Strange search-engine queries (313)

This feature operates on the following assumptions: that visitors to this site will leave behind a record that contains exactly where they came from and what they were looking for, and that they don’t realize (or don’t care about) that. Whatever the mechanics of it, there’s usually a week’s worth every seven days.

where is gasket on a 1994 mazda 626:  What gasket? You might as well point to a bucket of crawfish and ask “Where’s the claw?”

“only nine toes” sexy:  Have your date stick her foot in a bucket of crawfish.

mpv v6 p r n d s l:  B F D.

was there someone that died in the video of last friday night in 1887:  No. Everyone in it will die, but not right away.

something different with steak:  How about a cellular-peptide cake with mint frosting?

nicole kidman’s inseam:  Have tape measure, will travel.

how many people does the average person speak to in a day?  More than he wants to, you damn betcha.

down to earth, witty and likeminded sarcasm only…no deadpans! lol. I’m not a fan of typing copious lines about myself, so anything you want to know feel free to ask! please refrain from getting in touch via the instant chat on this website:  Not a chance. Do you realize how many people the average person has to speak to in a day?

consarn it:  Please address your query “To whom it may consarn.”

why do guys buy girls bras and thongs: You want they should buy them for themselves?

is “monokini” a back formation?  Yes, though not everyone is looking at the formation of her back.

citigroup yogurt $4.1 billion:  This is what happens when they say you’re “too big to fail”: you overpay for everything.

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A matter of little interest

Americans, we are told over and over, spend too much and save too little. Nowhere in this harangue will the dearth of incentives be mentioned:

According to the government inflation is running about 3% a year. According to me it’s more like 6%. But stick with the government numbers. If inflation is running at 3% and ING is paying 0.85%, then you are losing 2.15% on your money every year. That’s like paying ING $215 to hold onto your $10,000.

The Fed, of course, wants to keep those interest rates as low as possible, so as to make it possible for the government to continue to spend too much and save absolutely nothing. And I suspect they’d much prefer that we did the same, so as to “stimulate the economy.”

Here’s my own stimulus program:

  1. Build, as Newt Gingrich suggests, a base on the moon.
  2. Move the Federal government to this base.
  3. Activate the self-destruct mechanism on the vessel, making a return trip impossible.

Prospects should improve literally within days.

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The right not to get to work

Backers of Indy Connect, a bus-centered transit system for central Indiana, were aware that they could not under state law set up a tax election in the affected communities, and so they had gone to the General Assembly to get permission to hold that election.

And then the Ways and Means Committee killed the legislation that would have permitted that election. If you look to see who kicked this bill to the curb, you’ll see two distinct sets of footprints:

Lest you think this is all evil anti-transit Republicans, the transit measure failed because Democrats voted against it. The Republican committee chair insisted that the transit bill include a “right to work” provision that prohibited mandatory unionization of transit workers. Now, I think right to work is a sideshow myself. And I don’t think that Republicans should have insisted on what is clearly an ancillary matter and one they know would tweak Democrats. I would have removed the provision, especially as I believe it conflicts with federal law anyway. But for Democrats to throw transit under the bus because of it exposes the extent to which at the state level, the Democratic party is a wholly owned subsidiary of the unions. They’d rather have no transit system at all than a non-union transit system. The dyed in the wool blue urbanist crowd in Indy has expressed some surprise that Democrats opposed it — including, incidentally, Rep. Bill Crawford, who represents an Indianapolis inner city district that would benefit enormously from improved transit — but that’s only because they are naive about how politics works at this level. They should keep that in mind going forward.

I am of course amused by the idea of actual buses being thrown under the bus, but the disturbing aspect of this is that Indy Connect didn’t ask for any of it: they just wanted a simple up-down vote on their transit plan. It was legislative meddlers who turned it into farce. And apparently there’s a lot of that going on in Indiana:

Tax caps (which I support, incidentally) were one — but the rules go well beyond that to impose de facto spending caps on local government. The state has stepped up increasing control over school districts and now basically dictates per pupil funding around the state. Other busybody bills include proposals this year to limit the power of redevelopment commissions, strip state universities of their ability to set tuition, and to mandate a return to single class high school basketball. A lawmaker from Cedar Lake, 150 miles away from Indianapolis, wants to eliminate Indy’s at-large council seats. If there’s one common theme, it’s that this legislature has been more about taking away the ability of others to make their own decisions rather than doing much positive themselves.

If you see this and think “Sounds like Congress,” give yourself a gold star. And do it quickly, before it’s confiscated for the Greater Good.

(Title from this Matthew Tully tweet.)

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More bits and pieces

What sells a pop song — or perhaps a classical piece as well; ask Ludwig about those four notes starting off the Fifth — is the hook, the part that sticks in your ear, the part that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up days or months or years later. I did a list of several hooks that I particularly cherished way back in 2004; since even the newest of those songs is now forty years old, it’s way past time for Part 2.

  • Ohio Players, “Love Rollercoaster” (1975): “Say what?”
  • 10cc, “Don’t Hang Up” (1976): Any number of 10cc tracks deserve mention, but this lovelorn song on How Dare You! ends with, yes, someone hanging up. The first time I heard it, I indeed gave out with a “How dare they?” Still catches me by surprise to this day.
  • Deniece Williams, “Free” (1976): I ordinarily complain about excessive vocal ornamentation (got that, Mariah?), but for the six minutes this track is running, I don’t for a minute think Niecy is overdoing it. (Neither did the late Minnie Riperton, but “Free” is better than “Lovin’ You” or even “Memory Lane.”)
  • Al Stewart, “Year of the Cat” (1977): One of the very few songs that could legitimately be made into an actual full-length film — think a more noirish Before Sunrise — what breaks me up about it is that long instrumental break in the middle, with acoustic guitar overlaid with electric, not quite enough of a pause to allow you to catch your breath, and the guitar part continues on saxophone. Audacious and dazzling. [Link goes to a live version, but it's the same arrangement.]
  • The B-52′s, “Planet Claire” (1979): “Well, she isn’t!” If Fred Schneider had never said anything else, he’d be remembered for that.
  • Godley and Creme, “Under Your Thumb” (1981): There may be scarier songs out there — I mean, there’s a suicide going on here — but I can’t think of any.
  • Rhoda with the Special AKA, “The Boiler” (1982): Except for this one.
  • Tears for Fears, “Head Over Heels” (1985): That opening piano bit is positively majestic. And “something happens…” — isn’t it always that way?
  • Cameo, “Word Up!” (1986): “We don’t have the time for psychological romance.” Never did figure out what that meant, exactly, but it had the Ring of Truth.
  • Crowded House, “Don’t Dream It’s Over” (1987): “We know that they won’t win.” And the organ is somehow reminiscent of Matthew Fisher’s, circa “A Whiter Shade of Pale,” which is always worth remembering.
  • LL Cool J, “Going Back to Cali” (1988): When you tell someone “I don’t think so,” this is the voice you want to be using.
  • Nine Inch Nails, “Hurt” (1994): The guitar/synth shriek under “I will find a way” goes on for eighty seconds, and you don’t start breathing normally again until it’s over.
  • Alanis Morissette, “You Oughta Know” (1995): This was notable enough for sounding nothing like anything in either of Alanis’ two Canadian-only pop albums, which veered too much into Debbie Gibson-land to suit her, but where it kicks into high gear is in the very last interation of the chorus, where the synth-strings come in and double the level of tension.
  • Faith Hill, “Cry” (2002): In the last chorus, she turns “pain” into a three-syllable word and makes it hurt that much more.
  • Emmy Rossum, “Slow Me Down” (2007): Best non-Enya Enya ever. I have no idea how many vocal tracks she cut for this, but they’re so soft and breathy and ethereal that by the abrupt ending (it’s only 2:34) I’ve got my arms out to catch her. Every freaking time. When you say “dream pop” to me, this is the song I think of.
  • Death Cab for Cutie, “I Will Possess Your Heart” (2008): That long instrumental opening is suitably menacing, but it’s the five-note (later varied) piano riff that keeps it focused, perfectly appropriate for a stalkerific number like this.
  • Tristan Prettyman, “Madly” (2008): If there’s a “power chord” for the piano, it’s played under the chorus here. I keep wanting to play it myself, despite the absence of any suitable instruments on the premises.
  • Freezepop, “Doppelganger” (2010): “Why don’t you see it?” might be Liz Enthusiasm’s sweetest vocal line ever, despite its accusatory context.
  • Rebecca Black, “Person of Interest” (2011): In the bridge, that teen-dream voice suddenly gives way (on “You should be mine”) to something more urgent, more demanding, more — adult?

I’m hoping the links don’t rot away too quickly — and that you’ll kick in some of your own favorite bits.

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Who gets to be the bow?

The Feline Empress of Evil [© McGehee] passes Go:

Monopoly Hello Kitty version

The board locations, of course, are in Kitty’s hometown of, um, London. Also available: Yahtzee and Connect Four.

(Via Finestkind Clinic and fish market. Picture from Sanrio.)

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Crucking phasey

A new addition to the extensive variety of Australian bar snacks:

A nutty snack company in Australia has won the right to call itself Nuckin Futs, despite an official ruling that it was offensive.

The Trade Marks Examiner had ruled a year ago that Nuckin Futs had to be rejected because it was scandalous and offensive.

The company appealed the ruling:

A solicitor representing the Gold Coast company argued that the name was not offensive because the words it suggested were commonplace in everyday Australian language.

Whereupon the Examiner, I imagine, went out and got totally fit-shaced.

(Via Language Log.)

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For all you SOPA fans

The GOP is never going to outgrow that “Stupid Party” tag so long as its members keep coming up with things that are manifestly, well, stupid:

A Hawaii politician who proposed requiring Internet providers to record every Web site their customers visit is now backing away from the controversial legislation.

Rep. Kymberly Pine, an Oahu Republican and the House minority floor leader, told CNET [Thursday] evening that her intention was to protect “victims of crime,” not compile virtual dossiers on every resident of — or visitor to — the Aloha State who uses the Internet.

Pine wants you to know (1) that she’s amenable to minor modifications and (2) that this has absolutely, positively nothing to do with the inexplicable existence of KymPineIsACrook.com.

Lamar Smith (R-Disney) was not available for comment.

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Orange zest

It’s an extremely simple dress — normally it covers both shoulders — but Milla Jovovich makes it look amazing:

Milla Jovovich for Marella

This dress (“Califfo”) is from the Marella collection for Spring ’12. The brand description, according to owner MaxMara:

Marella offers a complete and diversified collection with a fresh and contemporary feel in line with today’s moods and lifestyle.

Coats, jackets and suits are a must, to be combined with easy chic separates: seducing and easy to wear proposals for refined, dynamic and positive women who want to like themselves and be liked.

Um, okay. I’m pretty sure Milla’s having no problem with her self-image.

(Via Fashion Gone Rogue. Photography by Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin.)

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Nothing to do? It’s up to you

It started with an admission that nothing much was happening:

I ran into a colleague while in the break room to grab eyeglass cleaner and cold medicine. She asked what I had planned for the weekend and I shrugged. Nothing. She looked at me dismayed and said that she figured I’d be going to some amazing party somewhere that no one knew about. No. I was going to do some amazing cleaning and sleeping and I was going to rock my Netflix queue. She shook her head because here I was this 28 year old woman. Childless. Single. Completely free. And I was going to spend my weekend scrubbing my kitchen floor. This could not stand, man. She told me that I really needed to … you know … get out more.

You’ll need to read the whole thing to see what happened when she got out.

(Which reminds me: my kitchen floor needs cleaning.)

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Nuts behind the wheel

There are plenty of lists of the Worst Cars Ever. Doug Ross, seeing an opening, has compiled a list, perhaps somewhat subjective, of the 10 Cars with the Most Obnoxious Drivers, some of which are perfectly respectable motor vehicles.

For instance, the Mercedes-Benz C-Class:

Dude, it’s a C-Class. The entry-level Mercedes. It’s the Sentra of Mercedes. I know, you think everyone is jealous of you. Here’s a helpful hint: they’re not. In fact, all Mercedes owners look down on you for driving the brand’s Corolla. And drivers of other makes just kinda feel sorry for you, because. Well, You’re. Trying. Too. Hard.

Ross may have to amend this if, as promised, the B-Class shows up on our shores this fall. (The Canadians already have it. Go figure.)

And he does have a disclaimer: “Hey, but if you drive one of these, I’m sure you’re the exception…”

(Via Roxeanne de Luca, whose own vehicle is not mentioned in the list.)

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Fleischer than thou

Now you may say it’s spinach, and you may say the hell with it, but I’m willing to endure four minutes of Wilco to see a brand-new Popeye cartoon done up in the classic Fleischer Studios style:

The only really offputting aspect, I think, is the attempt to simulate digitally the somewhat-damaged look of Really Old Film.

(Via Uproxx.)

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World’s fastest scoreboard

This figured to be a high-scoring game, and Royce Young’s Pregame Primer observed astutely: “The Thunder need to hold [Stephen Curry and Monta Ellis] to something like a combined 12-30 for 40 points and not something like 18-35 for 60.” At the half, it seemed like this was within reach; between the two of them, they’d snarfed about five points. (By coincidence, the Thunder were up five at the time.) This couldn’t last — or could it? The Warriors pulled to within three a couple of times in the fourth quarter, before OKC started pulling away, and when the smoke cleared, the Thunder had run out to a 120-109 win.

Double-doubles all over the Thunder box: Kevin Durant had 37 points and 14 rebounds, Russell Westbrook 28 points and 11 assists, Serge Ibaka 20 points and 12 boards (but not even one block). James Harden started the third quarter, Thabo Sefolosha having messed up one foot; The Beard got 19 points in 35 minutes. Rebounds weren’t even close (53-34).

With Curry and Ellis held to 11-33 for 28 points, other Warriors stepped up. David Lee, always a threat, came up with 19 before fouling out; rookie swingman Klay Thompson led the bench with 14; Dorell Wright made 6 of 9 from three-point range for 23. In fact, Golden State tried a total of 28 treys on the night, making 12. (OKC managed only four of 17.) Nobody really took care of the ball: the Thunder turned it over 22 times, the Warriors 20. And it seemed like the happiest man on the court was Nate Robinson, bought out by the Thunder and then signed by Golden State; he got to play 14 minutes, which he wouldn’t have in Thunder blue, and got nine points, including a crowd-pleasing trey.

Still, here’s your telltale statistic: OKC, 42-88, 47.7 percent; GSW, 41-87, 47.1. The Thunder won this one from the foul line, hitting 32 of 37. (The Warriors went 15-19.)

Next two games are on the road: the Clippers on Monday, the Mavs on Wednesday, followed by one home game (against Memphis) on Thursday — then five more road games, all against the West, and not a pushover (okay, maybe the Kings) in the bunch.

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Manic Pixie Dream Girl Alert

I know, I know; these mythical creatures aren’t supposed to exist except on celluloid, generally played by either (1) Zooey Deschanel or (2) someone who looks vaguely like Zooey Deschanel; one generally tends to lump them together with other presumed-nonexistent creatures such as Rodents of Unusual Size.

Except for the minor detail that Andrea Greb knows one (an MPDG, not an ROUS):

N is, without a doubt, the happiest person I’ve ever met. She’s always smiling, always laughing and everything is always “AMAZING!” Sometimes I feel like she really shouldn’t exist, because she does seem to be the embodiment of a male fantasy — the pretty, socially functional computer programmer. As someone who went to an engineering school, I can tell you that cute girls who code are a rarity, and cute girls who code and like sunlight and have a consistently positive attitude about life? N’s the only one I’ve ever met.

For her to be a true MPDG, things must happen to her that simply don’t happen to other people. Check:

The first time she went to a concert by her favorite singer, the night ended with him singing her favorite song to her at the afterparty. The next time he was in town, he got her tickets to his sold out show, she got up on the stage and danced and he invited her back to his hotel, but she didn’t go, because not only is she cool, she is classy. She’s the kind of person that not only takes the bus (in southern California, no one uses public transportation!) but will meet a guy on the bus and manage to find and friend him on Facebook without ever talking to him, and when she finally does talk to him, he’ll ask her out and they’ll date for six months. She once met a guy from Craigslist to sell him a ticket to an event, realized after he had walked away that he was really cute and actually sprinted down the street after him to ask him out.

This sort of woman would take five, ten years off my life, I just know it. And I’d probably thank her for it.

Bonus punchline: Greb’s article appears on a site co-owned by Zooey Deschanel.

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Tenured anniversary

I wasn’t quite expecting this revelation from Fillyjonk:

It doesn’t seem like it’s been ten whole years. I remember why I started the blog. I had been following a few blogs — like the one called #!/usr/bin/girl (Which is apparently now on permanent hiatus; the last post I see was in 2009).

I still have that one bookmarked, and if you were here for the Big Host Move on New Year’s Eve 2001, you know why:

In addition to running Stormwerks, Zannah is part of the mysterious cabal (yes, I know, There Is No Cabal) called New Dream Network — one of whose partners is the aforementioned [WebRing founder] Sage Weil.

Being weary of old dreams myself, I duly signed on with New Dream Network’s DreamHost service. The price is a little higher than I’d been paying, but the package I bought should exceed my needs for some time to come. And I have to figure that any organization that has room for people like Sage and Zannah is probably worth the few extra cents.

Both of them have since moved on to Other Things. I note that Zannah is occasionally writing at Vox Machina, in case you missed her. (And isn’t this so much more useful than simply emailing someone a link?) My host account remains at DreamHost, now repriced to about half what it used to be.

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Which clips can I take?

Bill Genereux of TechIntersect put together this little montage of the short (so far) history of Rebecca Black:

YouTube, however, apparently found nothing to laugh at in Genereux’s video compilation:

It includes around a minute of Rebecca’s famous “Friday” song before moving into the parodies & spoofs and the YouTube copyright algorithms tagged it as infringing. I filed a counter-claim that it was an educational fair-use, it doesn’t use the entire video, and provides a commentary on the work. Ultimately, they restored my video online.

Note that this was an automated takedown, not a DMCA request from a copyright owner. Still:

In the digital world, you are already presumed guilty until proven innocent.

Expect things not to improve after the election.

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The fast and the fizziest

I have just finished reading Inside Coca-Cola by Neville Isdell with David Beasley (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2011), which I undertook mostly because I wanted to figure out what the hell happened to Coke after former chairman Roberto Goizueta died in 1997 and the company went into some sort of stasis field. Isdell, who’d started his career at a Coca-Cola outpost in Zambia back in 1966, did four years in Atlanta, and his book is a bit dishier than I expected. I knew, for instance, that Coke and Pepsi were bitter rivals, but I had no idea they were this bitter:

One of the first things I noted upon arriving in the Philippines [in the early 1980s] was that there was a game going on between Pepsi and Coke. Both companies were “stealing” each other’s bottles in an attempt to drain the competitor’s assets by forcing them to purchase more glass. Both companies had mounds of their opponent’s bottles stacked in vast fields. And because of the damp tropical climate, weeds soon covered the fields and rainwater — followed soon after by algae — filled the bottles.

What threw me, though, was the search for a new general counsel after Isdell took over in Atlanta in 2004 with Deval Patrick’s resignation already on the table:

The Boston Globe reported that Patrick had resigned after [Isdell's predecessor Douglas] Daft reneged on a promise to approve an independent investigation into allegations that Coca-Cola hired right-wing death squads to terrorize union organizers in Colombia.

[BBC report on said allegations.]

Besides, Patrick was commuting from Boston, which can’t be fun. Then came this blockbuster:

We began the search for a new corporate counsel, seriously interviewing Eric Holder, the current U.S. attorney general, until he withdrew from consideration.

One may assume Eric Holder would not employ death squads, at least from the right wing.

As to what had happened to Coca-Cola after Goizueta, Isdell minces no words:

Doug Ivester … did not last long. He resigned as Chairman and CEO after slightly more than two years. Daft survived for more than four years, although frankly, he probably should have left earlier. I believe he stayed as long as he did, in part, because the board did not want to fact the grim reality that two successive choices for the top job had failed to get the company back on track.

And really, how do you follow a serious overachiever like Roberto Goizueta? Almost anyone, I suspect, would have been something of a letdown.

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