Posted on January 17th, 2009 by Brad, Head SOB in Uncategorized
Fat, festering boil Karl Rove is soliciting letters of thanks and congratulations for George W Bush as he packs up the china and turns off the light in the Oval Office one last time. You can send letters to gwbfarewell@gmail.com by 6PM on Monday and Rove will deliver them to Bush. Kind of a nice way to give him a proper send off.
Here’s my letter.
To: gwbfarewell@gmail.com
From: brad@gdsob.com
Subject: Thank you for your service, Mr. President
You managed to outrun the Curse of Tecumseh and the Earth did not crash into the sun on your watch. I’d call that a successful term in office.
Crack open a beer and put your feet up. You deserve it.
– Brad
It took some time to compile, but I got yer results right here. When I looked back this morning, I lost a friend along the way, and my count as it stands right now at 199. So, it’s not REALLY accurate, and was this gonna be scientific anyways? I wasn’t wearing a lab coat, and had Erlenmeyer flasks bubbling over a Bunsen burner or anything.
Without any further adieu, here is my quantitative breakout of Facebook friends:
Total: 200
Male: 95 (47.5%)
Female: 105 (52.5%)
Friends I’ve worked with: 38 (19%)
Current coworkers: 12 (6%)
Former coworkers: 24 (12%)
Vendors/suppliers: 2 (1%)
Friends I know from school: 126 (63%)
Bentley College: 69 (34.5%)
Pinkerton Academy: 34 (17%)
Hood Jr. High: 11 (5.5%)
South Range Elementary: 10 (5%)
Nutfield Preschool/Kindergarten: 2 (1%)
Friends I’ve smoked with: 3 (1.5%)
Friends I’ve drank with: 101 (50.5%)
Friends I’ve seen in their underwear: 12 (6%)
Friends I’ve drank with in their underwear: 4 (2%)
Friends I’ve skied with: 21 (10.5%)
Friends I’ve hugged: 28 (14%)
Friends I’ve hugged while skiing: 0 (0%)
Friends met on the internet: 15 (7.5%)
Friends I’ve never actually met: 10 (5%)
Friends I’ve only seen once: 3 (1.5%)
Friends whose voices I have not heard in 10 years or more: 68 (34%)
Friends I’ve slept with: 28 (14%)
Friends with whom I have some kind of regret: 5 (2.5%)
Friends who have run over my foot: 3 (1.5%)
Friends who have run over my foot more than once: 1 (.5%, but 33% of the above)
Friends whose mom has bossed me around at some point: 4 (2%)
Friends I’ve made a border crossing with: 2 (1%)
Friends whose toothbrush I have used by accident: 2 (1%)
Friends who have heard the Croatian hermaphrodite story: 10 (5%)
Friends who are the mother of another friend: 3 (1.5%)
Friends who I thought I heard the last of until Facebook came around: 12 (6%)
Friends I only know through SWMBO: 5 (2.5%)
Friends who have put up with my shit in some form: 200 (100%)
Friends who have farted in front of me: 6 (3%)
Friends who know another friend in an inexplicable way: 4 (2%)
Friends in my freshman seminar class with me: 3 (1.5%)
Friends I’ve gone to the mall with: 6 (3%)
Posted on January 13th, 2009 by Brad, Head SOB in Census
I’m holding tight at 198 Facebook friends, and as soon as I hit 200, I’m gonna publish the census I’ve been working on. I chose 200 because, well, it’s the nearest milestone kinda number that I can easily calculate percentages from. And saying that I’ve smoked a cigarette with 1.5% of my Facebook friends sounds better than having to round up to 2%.
Look for fun categories like the number of Facebook friends I usually see on Christmas Eve, know only from the internet or have seen in their underwear. Totally quantitative findings, not spilling any beans about who I know from where or whatever. It’ll be fun, and when I hit 200 I’ll publish it.
Posted on January 9th, 2009 by Brad, Head SOB in Entertainment
CBS owes him a lot. If he didn’t do the CSI’s, Without A Trace, The Amazing Race, and Eleventh Hour, they’d be running a distant fifth behind The CW. Everything the man touches turns to gold.
Let’s look at his movie resume. Top Gun, the first two Beverly Hills Cop movies, Bad Boys 1 & 2, the three Pirates of the Caribbean movies, Crimson Tide, Con Air, The Rock and more. All of them kick ass movies with ’splosions or memorable performances. I’m intentionally omitting Pearl Harbor because of the Affleck factor. And the fact that his character took a train to England.
Why in fuck’s name is he behind Confessions of a Shopaholic? Unless Isla Fisher has to stop a terrorist plot armed with an MP5 and a pair of Manolo’s, he’s lost his street cred with me.
Posted on January 8th, 2009 by Brad, Head SOB in Frustration
Dear sir/madam:
You drive a short little sedan. Don’t be a lazy prick and CLEAN THE ICY BUILDUP OFF YOUR ROOF.
Yeah, I know, your cousin fucking mother left you with webbed fingers at the end of your stubby T-rex-like arms when she went out for a carton of smokes and never returned. Life’s tough enough for you as it is. Don’t drag those of us driving behind you down with you. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is, but dodging tumbling airborne ice sheets that look like the damn phantom zone with Zod, Ursula and the dude who looks like Bull from Night Court with a beard while reaching for a pacifier in the back seat is unacceptable.
I can forgive a little old lady in a van, or an SUV with a roof rack, but c’mon. You’re an inconsiderate douche.
Drive into a bridge abutment and remove yourself from the gene pool.
So, when I first heard about this possible appointment, I thought it was an Onion article. I mean really, who’d a thunk it? It’s not that big a stretch, I suppose. I mean Tony Snow took the press secretary gig, so if you call that logic, it seems to hold. It seems like they want to make the surgeon general gig more hip and fun.
In a similar vein, I have some other recommendations for cabinet positions:
Secretary of the Treasury: The Deal or No Deal Banker
Secretary of State: Samuel L. Jackson.
Secretary of Agriculture: Snoop Dogg.
Head of the CIA: Pinetta is out. Jack Bauer’s in.
Health and Human Services? Dr. Drew, baby.
Posted on January 5th, 2009 by Brad, Head SOB in Entertainment
Dennis Miller once said that the easiest job in the world has to be coroner. It’s surgery on dead people. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Maybe you get a pulse.
That’s what the Bahamian medical examiner thought. I’m the luckiest guy in the world. Got a nice easy job, some place tropical. I’m in heaven. Wait… Anna Nicole Smith died under somewhat dubious circumstances? The eyes of the world are on me? Ahhh shit. But that can’t happen to me again, can it? I got maybe five years to go until retirement. I can skate through on that.
(Two years later)
John Travolta’s kid died? In my jurisdiction? Oh, fuck me. Did he or didn’t he have autism? I don’t know! Get those cameras outta here. I gotta 3:30 tee time and a frozen drink with an umbrella in it with my name on it. And don’t go dragging me into the Scientology angle. I didn’t sign up for this shit.
After some thoughtful deliberation, I’ve come up with my four resolutions for 2009. Like to hear ‘em? Here they go:
1.) Be more patient, tollerant, and show my love and admiration for those nearest and dearest to me every day in every way.
2.) Lead a middle class revolution. Everyone, drop your shit and get to http://adaywithoutthemiddleclass.com right away.
3.) Give up smoking once and for all. If it were easy to do, I wouldn’t have already done it ten times by now.
4.) Polish off one of my scripts and get it under contract. So, if anybody knows any pornographers who are looking for an AVN Best PIcture of 2009 award, drop me a line. Hint: It’s a skin flick based on my time at the airport entitled “Private Screening.”
