Babyfight Dispensing goo since 1999

15Mar/071

another think

Since this seems to be an all-Charles day thus far, this story on The Onion made me think of him.

Man Who Plays Devil's Advocate Really Just Wants To Be Asshole
March 9, 2007 | Issue 43•10

COLUMBUS, MO—Though area graphic designer Derek Sills says he plays devil's advocate to help his friends better understand opinions different from their own, sources close to Sills claim he takes on the dissenting role merely to be an asshole.

"Now, I don't actually believe this or anything but, for the sake of argument, let's say your girlfriend is just dating you for your money," Sills said at a party last Saturday, after asking a group of friends to consider that the telephone may have been a "stupid invention." "Just playing devil's advocate here, guys, but perhaps slavery is the reason African Americans are so successful in sports these days."

According to sources, Sills "crossed the line" when he asked if their friend Jamie's mother might have deserved to die.

That is funny shit.

Filed under: assholes, charles, onion 1 Comment
8Mar/071

Wednesday lyric

I know it's Thursday, shut up. Charles harrassed me for a lyric, so I let him pick one out. Normally, he can only muster enough concern about me to not stab me when I'm not looking, so this is a major breakthrough on the stabber-stabbee relations front. Last night I was in bed and some d-bag in the parking lot ran into a parked car, and then went in their garage and ignored it. I took down their license # and left it on the car that got hit. I crept around in the dark too because I'm a giant scared vagina.
Speaking of which, here's Charles' lyric!

The Engine Driver
The Decemberists

I'm an engine driver
On a long run, on a long run
Would I were beside her
She's a long one, such a long one

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

I'm a county lineman
On the high line, on the high line
So will be my grandson
There are powerlines in our bloodlines

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

I'm a money lender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured

And if you don't love me let me go
And if you don't love me let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have hoped on

And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

(And if you don't love me let me go)
And if you don't love me let me go
(And if you don't love me let me go)
And if you don't love me let me go