Life Without Garfield Is Totes Postmodern, Tragic [Like My Constant Usage Of The "Word" "Totes" In Sentences]

This is not the first encounter DivMo's had with Garfield the cat (and no I'm not talking of the fat, Italian variety). There is something about the World's Most Syndicated Comic Strip that makes it infinitely more entertaining when set to live-action video-reenactment or, in the case of my new favorite internet find Garfield Minus Garfield, when Garfield is removed from the strip entirely:

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life? Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness in a quiet American suburb.

Um, genius! Here are 3 of my favorites, though the whole site is full of these hilaritragic gems:

Music Video Proves Working Out In A Thong Burns More Calories: Some Waxing Required [Abandon All Hope Ye Who Exercise Here]

There were 74 people in my kickboxing class tonight.

That's right: Seventy fucking four people. This in a room were 40 people feels packed.

Come on guys, who are we really kidding here? Why year after year do you need to make the cliched resolution to go to the gym and get in shape? You know how many people will be in this class come March? Fifteen, on a busy day. I watched it happen last year and it sure as hell is going to happen again this year.

Haven't you learned by now that resolutions are made to be broken? You are doomed. Dooooooomed!

That's why this year my two resolutions were 1) to only drink champagne straight from the bottle, and 2) to get some.

The beauty of the second resolution is that even if I fail (which would make for a very sad 2008 indeed), I wouldn't actually be failing at all. Why just this morning I 'got some' coffee. And once I finish this post, I'm going to 'get some' sleep.

I really should 'get some' prizes for my brilliance. (I would accept the Nobel, Pulitzer, or smooches.)

And now, to brilliantly tie together my gym rant with my 'get some' resolution, I give you the music video to the techno remix of Steve Winwood's "Call on Me."

Anyone else make an amazing resolution this year that they'd like to share with the class? How long before you broke it?

Freedom to Protest Farting on Airlines: Or Why Cary Tennis Should Be Your Favorite Writer Too

If you've never checked out Cary Tennis' Since You Asked column in Salon, consider this my plea--nay, demand!--that you to do so immediately. Upon first launching into the dark unknown of the blogosphere with my Google Reader's engines pinging away, Cary's column was one of the few stars I found myself orbiting around more than once. Now I find I can't miss his answer to a single question whether it be what to do when you realize you've stopped doing your job, how to deal with an intense hatred of buzzwords, or what it means when a man farts in your face on a crowded airplane and you say nothing.

That's right, Cary Tennis deals with the tough topics--the farts in your face--pulling from the (pungent) air greater truths than the questioner ever imagined learning. Take for example, his response to the airplane question:

But let us get beyond the farting, the rudeness, the olfactory assault, my fellow passengers, and ask the larger question: Are we not sitting idly by every day as powerful people fart in our faces with impunity? Is there not a terrible stink in the national air about which we are saying nothing? Why are we filled with outrage and yet unable to raise our voices in protest? Are we not feeling mute and discouraged in our daily lives as we watch the news? Why is that? Is it because we feel vulnerable to the commands of the captain, fearful of being incarcerated if we raise a stink, pardon the pun, fearful of the consequences if we simply call attention publicly to the fact that a man is standing in the aisle farting in our faces?

Every day a new question, every question another attempt at seeing life's bigger picture. It's amazing really, the work that he does. There is no ivory tower here, no shack on a Greek isle completely removed from his audience while he creates his work. No, Tennis rides the bus like the rest of us: face pressed up against the window, teaching us how to focus our eye on the once-blurred beauty before us.

Your Weekend Movie: Four Eyed Monsters

I just watched an entire 70min movie on Youtube. I didn't even know it was possible to upload that long of a feature until today. The movie is called Four Eyed Monsters by Arin Crumley and Susan Bruice. (Title comes from Arin's great line on couples: "They have four eyes, two mouths, eight limbs that wrap around themselves in narcissistic self-adoration. It's disgusting. ...And I can't help but envy them.")

It's a really gorgeous movie about the processes of creating art and relationships. It has the charm of Amelie and a depth you don't usually find in movies about relationships. There is no montage where the relationship is built in snippets of cut-away shots while the music swells romantically. This is the glorious, messy, terrifying business of falling in love. Which looks a lot like the glorious, messy, and terrifying business of creating art. So it's the perfect fit that Arin and Susan turned the cameras on their own relationship as the inspiration for their creation. It's stirring and remarkably honest.

I think it's only up for a week on Youtube so be sure to check it out before it gets taken down.



Because they're young artists living in NYC, they've accrued a substantial amount of debt in the process of making the film. Spout.com, a social networking site for movie lovers, has offered to donate $1 (up to $100,000) to Arin and Susan for every person who signs up for a Spout account. (As of this post, they were up to $6,518).

And since I'm going for the world record for membership in social networking sites (joined 2 today alone!), I was very OK with turning over my email address to help Arin & Susan get $1 dollar closer to their debt-free dreams (at least until their next movie).

Tattoo Me!

So I had this brilliant idea tonight for this super cute lower back tattoo inspired by R. Kelly's "Sex Planet"

What do you guys think? Super cute right?!! Here's the close up of the design:


And then I put it on a model so you can get an idea of what it would look like on my lower back:


What do you guys think? Should I add a little arrow to the crack? I wasn't sure if the message was clear enough. But super cute, right? Oh, and for the record, that's exactly what my butt looks like. Pooping is like way overrated.