I came across this music mashup while searching the web for news on web mashups. I don’t know if the guy who made it plays an instrument, but he’s a musician. It takes a lot of talent to do something like this and while the video editing is pretty good, the crazy part is the song is great.
Enjoy.
One day I’ll actually write that book about Freddy and his daddy and the death business. You know, where Freddy and his daddy don’t see eye to eye because Freddy wants to sell burlap bags and peach trees instead of fiberglass and metal coffins? The problem, of course, is that Freddy doesn’t know a whole lot about marketing and target audiences, because the people in his town are factory workers, not tree huggers.
I’ve been watching Six Feet Under
You are reading this post.
Ever since I watched The 40-year-old Virgin, I’ve been obsessed with telling people how I know that they are gay. And this is a little awkward too since Ann likes to point out how I listen to Coldplay.
Other bad habits taught to me by the movie:
And for those that don’t know what the hell I’m talking about:
So we have this empty office at work, and we’ve papered the windows so no one can see in. The women with nursing babies at home use the office to pump breast milk into little bottles. The office used to be in one corner of the floor, but someone moved in there, and they had to move the milking station over by my desk.
So when I spotted a dude coming out of the office, I said the first thing that came to my mind, and I said it loud: “Are you milking?” This was followed by loud jeers of laughter and the instant embarrassment that I had yet again blurted something inappropriate at the office.
It happens to be bowling night, so lots of people change into their jeans and team shirts before they head out to the lanes. The guy was just using the milking room to change clothes. But he and his buddy were ready for some brewskies, and they thought this was the funniest thing they’d heard all day. I didn’t stay embarrassed too long, especially after they told me I’d just said the “joke of the day.”
At first I thought it might be bad since one of the nursing mothers was probably in hearing distance, but then I realized I didn’t really care if she was offended. After all, she’s the one with the racist baby pictures flashing across her screen saver. But that’s another story altogether.
I swear I remember snow falling within the past couple of weeks. So why did I just decide to go put on some shorts? Maybe its the sweat all over my shirt. I dunno.
I wrote a blog post about Jimmy Wales, the co-founder of Wikipedia, being accused of editing a post in exchange for a $5,000 donation to the Wikimedia Foundation. Turns out this isn’t the only time he’s been accused of editing a Wikipedia entry in a not-so-ethical manner — he also edited his own entry to remove references to Larry Sanger as the co-founder of Wikipedia.
So, reading from Jimmy Wales’ Wikipedia Entry, why am I not surprised to find out that he’s an Ayn Rand fan?
While pouring myself a glass of root beer, it suddenly occurred to me that there are times in life when it is tough to separate the fuzz from the labels.
So the theme we had before was god-awful, and I went on a quest. I searched high and low, looking for just the right theme for DAnnisms. I downloaded a lot of maybes, and I was about start trying them out, seeing if I could start tweaking one to be exactly what I wanted.
When the banana appeared to me, I couldn’t believe my luck. It’s big, it’s yellow, it’s a mighty tasty treat. The Fates have blessed us once again.
I was reading Genius Types yesterday and Brian Lee was talking about how it wasn’t a traditional blog because he didn’t post enough. He went on to say how he didn’t like the whole one-post-a-day mentality.
I completely agree. I think the post-every-day drive of many bloggers leads to a lot of crap being posted on the web. I don’t think there’s anything worst than going to a blog and reading the latest post only to find out that the author was just flinging some words out to meet a goal.
Well, okay, maybe kid pizza is worse.
Now, over at Web Trends, I do try to write every day. But that’s because I’m trying to keep up with that news stuff. And news-oriented blogs should have the content to do the one-post-a-day thing because news tends to happen on a daily basis. (There was that one time in the early 90’s that a whole week went by without news. But then again, I also lost a complete year back then, so there were definitely some time-space anomalies happening that decade.)
But typing something up just to have typed something that day… I’m just not a fan.
Next thing you know, people will be pulling up Paint and drawing some stick figures as a substitute for substantial content. And where will that get us?
I know this is in really bad taste, but I often check this Web site to come up with ideas for my next Halloween costume. I didn’t know until I read it today that Jeff Healey, the blind guitar player from Road House died this past weekend. He was only 41, and he died of cancer. And coincidentally enough, it seems that Patrick Swayze, the star of Road House, also has cancer. So my really tasteless question for today is this. When people get sick with horrible diseases, is it still OK to make fun of them?
Did you ever have that moment where you ordered a slice of pizza at a fun park and realized you were now too old to enjoy kid pizza? Not baby goat pizza. Not pizza with chunks of human child. What I’m talking about is that particular flavor of pizza that you liked as a kid but once you got grown-up taste buds, it just turned nasty.
I have a list of things I liked as a kid, but I can’t stand now, including Big Macs, Capri Sun and anything by Chef Boyardee. I still like Tang and Pringles potato chips, though. Mmmm, delicious.
