“Stuff I Scanned” Week: Day 2

I just scanned some stuff.  For some reason a lot of people worry about this god dude.

“Stuff I Scanned” Week Begins: Day 1

First, I must thank my sister , Caroline, for inspiring “Stuff I Scanned” Week.  Her encouragement and words are to thank for this week. Whether that is good or not… well that is still to be seen.

Lastly, here is day 1 of “Stuff I Scanned” Week:

Some one gave me this leaflet walking on Hollywood Blvd about a year ago.  Is it just me, or are a lot of people starting to freak out about this 2012 thing.  If one more person talks to me about how there have been more natural disasters happening these past few years…I’m going to slap my own face.

Air recirculation: A hot button issue.

When do I think about this button?  Driving past bedraggled cow farms in Norco.  I try to press it before I get in too deep.  But always too late.  Now I’m just recirculating poopy air.

New Gorton’s Fisherman Campaign puts the “fishy” in fish sticks

Call me a sick poor loser but I will still tell you I love fish sticks. The problem today is that fish sticks are no longer very en vogue… probably because they cause gout.   It’s more likely that mom yells “Shut up and eat your bok choy” at young Johnny than serves up a tray of fish product, well at least if you live in California.  That’s why I was intrigued to see how Gorton’s would market their frozen fish products in their latest ad campaign called “Trust the Gorton’s Fisherman”.   If you’re not familiar with the campaign yet please see below:

Like I already mentioned I do like fish sticks.  This commercial is preaching to the choir and has to produce a fisherman that I only somewhat adequately have to trust.  Instead, this is the type of commercial that makes me doubt my convictions in buying fish sticks.

The first thing I don’t trust about this Gorton’s Fisherman?  His perfectly pruned beard.  I’m just not going to trust a fisherman unless he has a 2 foot long beard with wet cigarette butts hanging out.  I mean all the fisherman in this commercial look like they work aboard the Love Boat.  They probably also all have golden shower naughty tapes with under-aged children (I forgive you R. Kelly).  Judging by their facial expressions they are on a harbor cruise in the Bahamas.  When did commercial fishing turn into a quaint activity? I’m sorry but I don’t trust fishermen unless they are crusty old seadogs in a continual state of pissedoffishniss.

Second reason I don’t trust the Gorton’s Fisherman: Why the shit would you eat frozen microwavable seafood when you’re in the middle of the ocean? I’m sure I would be in heaven eating reheated scampi when I just spent the previous eight hours hauling in 8,000 pounds of fish.  I’m convinced at this point in the commercial that all the fishermen aboard this vessel are sado-masochists as well.  I understand Gorton’s is trying to channel some sort of image of authenticity through this campaign (they make a big deal of “Trusted since 1849″ on their website),  but can they at least try to make a commercial that looks a little bit less like it was shot with 1849 reasoning.

Now the final question I must ask?  Why does the Gorton’s captain look eerily like comedian Bob Odenkirk? Beneath a shiny, yellow fisherman suit and a fake beard, I truly believed that Bob Odenkirk was trying to hawk me fish sticks.  After watching this commercial, I felt that I had unwittingly looked into the portal of severe insanity.

Need New Pants

All my pants got holes in them.  Hole in the right knee.  Hole in the left knee.  I got a hole on the inside of my pocket, everything falls down the inside of my pant leg onto my shoe.  I got a hole on the outside of my front pocket.  I got a hole on the back pocket, my keys fall out.  I got a hole in the crotch area.  Time for new pants.

Dad’s bloody head

I looked at my right upper arm. There was a bruise on it.  Then I looked at myself and my bruise in the mirror.  I thought to myself, “How did I get this bruise?”.  It’s strange when you can’t remember any moment when you could have possibly got a bruise.  You wish you could watch replay of your prior day and pinpoint the exact moment that something clashed with your arm.

Then I thought about my dad.  He would be working on something and look up at me with a cut on his forehead, slowly leaking blood.  I would tell my dad, “Your head is bleeding”.  Then he would look at me and wipe his hand over his forehead, smearing blood over his face.

Cocksucker from Oregon

He got real mad after I gave him the “jerk off” gesture.   After pulling up to the passenger side of my car, he rolled down his window and started to yell.  I couldn’t hear a thing and gave him the “cupping of the ear/ quizzical look”.  He jerked his car close to mine. 

I thought: hey turd go ahead and dent your brand new Mercedes against my Ford Focus, see if I care two flying fucks.  As he sped away I saw his Oregon license plate. 

I thought of the state trooper that gave me a seatbelt ticket while sitting in the backseat of my friends car on the side of some highway in the Oregon hills.  That dude was a jerk.

December 18. Holidays. Christmas. The Nutcracker. Crackers. Nuts. Peanuts. Chocolate. Peanut M&M’s.

What’s sweeter than kids and candy?  Kids selling candy.

That’s what I used to believe.  I was WRONG.

I bought Peanut M&M’s from a kid and ended up with a cracked tooth.

Is that what I get for giving to charity.  This is how it’s going to go down God??? GAME ON!

The Rain Debate: CONTINUED

Never has rain been so hotly contested! Rain: Is it good or bad?  Today I received this shocking email!

“

To Mr. Reinhard,

My name is Samuel L. Jones.  I am the mayor of the GREAT town of Mobile, Alabama!  I have read your recent posts about rain and I wanted to chime in before YOU had the chance to.  Let me first provide you with some important information.  The great town of Mobile is the wettest place in the United States,  averaging 67 inches of rainfall a year.  That is almost 2X as much as the pussy city of Seattle!

Secondly, FUCK YOU.  I am tired of hearing how you are tired of rain.  You live in Los Angeles.  What…it rains like 5 times a year over there??? Suck it up poser.  Do you know how much 67 inches is??? That is like over 5 feet.  You could drown in that!

Lastly, I love the fucking rain!  I conceived two of my children in the rain and I’m not ashamed about that fact!  Down in Mobile we know how to party!  You know what is made of mostly water?  BEER! I fucking love beer.

Suck it,

Samuel L Jones

Mayor of Mobile

“

WOW.  This dude is rad.

Seattle is cool.

I would like to renounce my last, rather brash, post about Seattle.   Yesterday I received an email from Greg Nickels, the mayor of Seattle, that read as follows:

“

Dear Mr. Reinhard,

First and foremost I would like congratulate your success as a cutting edge blogger.  Many of us up here in the Northwest follow your blog with ardor.  We have a few internet wiz-kids up here as well.  Ever heard of Bill Gates or Paul Allen??   Anyway I digress.

I was excited to find what your latest post would deliver but was ultimately shocked to read about your profane laden blog about our fine town of Seattle.  You must realize that while we do receive our fair share of rainfall, 36 inches annually, our fine town of Seattle actually receives less rainfall annually than New York City!  Perhaps you should curse the Big Apple next time!

Although rain can sometimes become burdensome, the fine citizens of our fine town can enjoy the great variety of distractions that abound our fine town. Have you ever seen the view from the Space Needle?  It is absolutely magnificent!

I hope you change your mind about the fine town of Seattle and come visit us soon!  Have you heard of Grunge Rock????

Best Regards,

Greg Nickels

Mayor of Seattle

“

First I would like to say how much I appreciated this email from Mr. Nickels.  He seems like a cool dude.  And I must say that I enjoyed myself very much the last time I visited Seattle.  I think it barely even rained when I was there.  I like Seattle but FUCK NEW YORK CITY!