Retired Steve Jobs Unveils to Wife Innovative New Way to Sweep the Floors of Their House

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Retired from his position as Apple CEO for nearly a week, Steve Jobs unveiled to his wife what he called "an exciting, new and innovative way to clean the floors of their house." Jobs rented out the stage of a nearby convention center and took the stage to a crowd of just his wife.

He then vaulted into his presentation. "The iWife isn't a product, honey," said Jobs. "The iWife is a state of mind."  

Included in the two hour display were the usual Steve Jobs jokes and visual quips.  He was still very much in classic form.

Finally, nearing the presentation's climax, Jobs went back stage and grabbed the couple's current broom, a standalone straw broom. He held it up as an item to be rightly shunned. 

"If you use primitive tools, you get primitive results," said Jobs.  Jobs then smiled.  "But no longer..."

From the ceiling was lowered a shiny new broom partnered with an attached dustpan. The empty convention center erupted into thunderous, pre-recorded applause, at which point an irritated Mrs. Jobs finally walked out.

BEAT THE RUSH!

Came across this ad in my local paper.  Does this scare the shit out of anyone else? 

Better hurry up and learn how to carry a gun because there will be LOTS of people out there with guns!

...YAY!



(For now we'll overlook the improper use of quotations.  "BEAT THE RUSH"?  What, is this innuendo?  Are you saying this tongue in cheek?  Sounds dirty or dangerous.  I should probably carry a gun to be safe. )

Job Searching Is Tough

WANTED:  Bilingual Marketing Phlebotomist Copy Editor with minimum 80 years of Phlebotomy and Marketing experience to work in high pressure, fast paced environment!


Requirements

• Must be CNA and CNC certified
• Must have Commercial Driver's License (CDL)
• Forklift experience a must
• Ability to work in cold warehouse environment
• Ability to lift 100lbs over your head
• Ability to edit high volume of copy (roughly 100lbs worth) about Phlebotomy Marketing in 2 languages
• Ability to communicate with clients in more than one language while operating a forklift and shivering with 100lbs of copy over your head

TO APPLY:  Print out a copy of your resume, place it in a stamped envelope, and then place that stamped envelope in your nearest garbage.  Which you may also stamp if you prefer.

*I take full responsibility for this potentially ruining my chances on the Truck Driver Phlebotomist Account Representative position I just applied for.  Fingers crossed, though!

Steve Jobs Resigns As Apple CEO

Upon hearing the news, fearing that they may not have stuff to line up for anymore, Apple groupies began lining up in advance for Steve Jobs' funeral.  Hmm... iWake?

Pre-too soon?

These Libyan Rebels Are Playing Right Into Gaddafi's Shaking, Tear-Soaked Hands

When are these Libyan rebels going to wake up and realize the mistake they've made?  They've just woken a sleeping tiger.  A tiger who can kill indiscriminately even while running away like a frightened lamb.  This tiger's attack stance only looks like a small girl cowering in fear while breathing in a thick, sobbed mucus.

Gaddafi has been in power for over forty years and in that time he has trained extensively in the sniffling, groveling, and weeping martial arts.  He needs no weapons!  Only his dirty hands and floor-scuffed knees and tear-drenched cheeks.  The weapons given to him by God. 

Oh, all that calling and begging to God you thought you heard from Gaddafi while he ran from the hail of your gunfire?  He was sharing a joke with God!  Yes, he was laughing while being fired at!  Yes, to the point of tears!  Yes, to the point of urinating uncontrollably, suckling on his thumb, and screaming for his Mamma Gaddafi.  That's how he laughs!

And if he has weapons, God forbid, look out!  That box of Kleenex you saw him fleeing with?  That's approximately 500 sheets of absorbent weaponry in his grasp!  Yes, he's toying with you, the way a lion toys with an entire country full of angry, armed lion killers!

It's all part of the plan.  The tears, the shivering, the release of his bowels -- all intentional!  All designed to keep the rebels unbalanced and at rest in a false sense of security. 

Yes, rebels, enjoy your time while it lasts!

Today On A Very Special 'I Am Andy McDonald': Money

"...a money tree.  It had twenty-dollar bills for leaves.  Its flowers were government bonds.  Its fruit was diamonds.  It attracted human beings who killed each other around the roots and made very good fertilizer."  - Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut

Why do we want a shit ton of money?  Outside of paying for the necessities and living a fairly comfortable life, why do we want a shit ton of things and money that we can sit on like Conan the Barbarian guarding a bloody hill of conquered skulls?

Then what?

More, more, and oh what the fuck let's have a little more still.  How much money is too much money?  At what point do you stop and go, "You know what, I'll be fine from here on out"?

We're racing to the grave with as much loot as we can carry with us, as if there's a scoreboard at the end waiting.  And let's say there is. And let's also say that you're at the top.  That's right, you did it!

Then what?

Maybe you get into the Heaven VIP room!  Yeah, nice work, you'll get to meet all of heaven's heavy hitters.  Shmooze it up with Billy Mays the Oxyclean guy or some rich sap from the Titanic!

Wait!  Colonel Sanders just came up to you and invited you to Heaven's champagne room!  Imagine all the rich strippers!  They don't even need your money.  They'll dance for you for free!  Of course, you think, that's why Colonel Sanders was so obsessed with thighs and breasts!

This is it! Yeah, now you're with the cream of the crop!

Then one of the strippers whispers something in your ear about a super, double-secret, uber rich group of people in Heaven.  If there was anyone to have won at life, it was this group.  They died with so much money it was used to embalm them.  Their last remaining years of life made nurses rich, not due to the expensive care provided, but rather the incontinence causing them to literally shit money against their will.

Yes, this is the group you want to be a part of.  Heaven's Hall of Fame.  If your money could choke you during sex, you would perhaps be the happiest life form in the universe.

Then again, maybe there is no Heaven.  So perhaps that pile of money you're guarding or seeking is all you have.  Hold onto it, dammit.  Hold onto the prize, or hold onto that quest for the prize.

Then when you die, we'll all gather around and say, "Jesus, that guy was rich as shit."  And we'll all lightly chuckle because you were shitting money towards the end due to your incontinence.

And then we'll take all you had and mangle your money-pooping corpse for our own sport and amusement.

Now, If You'll Allow Me To Bring The Maturity Level Way Down

Hanging out with friends so often results in genius ideas.  And when there's beer involved, the likelihood of genius ideas increases by ten fold.  That's scientific fact.

Enter: Boner Beer.

The name of this imaginary beer actually originated from a buddy of mine misunderstanding something I said.  I was talking to him about a beer I had just tried called Raging Bitch, by Flying Dog Brewery.  He thought I said Raging Boner.  The boner beer jokes erupted.

• "Ah, nothing like suckin' down a few Boners."
• "Um, yeah, gimme a Boner." 
• "This asshole wants a Boner, but he's not gettin' one from me!"
• "Did you shake this Boner?  It blew up all over me!"
• "Tough day?  Here, take it easy, wrap your lips around this Boner."
• "Dude, you knocked over my Boner."
• "This is what it's all about... just a bunch of guys playin' poker, Boners all around."
• "Yeah, that Boner's gettin' nice head."
• "That Boner's just not sittin' right."
• "Good talk, dude.  The only thing missin' now is two tall frosty Boners."
• "Ugh, this Boner went completely flat!"
• "This is relaxing... TV remote in one hand, a Boner in the other."

Okay, you get the idea.  And with that, a pretend beer brand was born.

Other ideas from subsequent friend hangouts where we talked about Boner Beer and boners...

• Tappers shaped like boners.
• Some suggestive gesturing to get the beer to pour.
• Balls on tappers?
• After one mug, the tapper needs 15-20 minutes before it can be tapped again.
• To the drinker who finishes the keg, the tapper drops cab fare.

Shared credit for making Boner Beer what it is today:
Jon, Shane, Aaron, Tim, Csaba, and Angel.

Marcus Bachmann Will Help Get Gas Prices Straight Again

Presidential candidate Michelle Bachmann says if elected, she will get gas prices under $2 again.  She didn't go into detail, and many experts wonder how she'll accomplish this.

My exclusive, inside sources tell me her secret weapon is her husband, Marcus Bachmann.  Through his extensive knowledge of heterochemical engineering, Mr. Bachmann will get gas prices straight and in line again.

Oh, I'm sorry, I misread.  "Petrochemical engineering."  Petro...

A New Fist Bump: The Meteor

Sometimes the world of fist bumping is visited by a new, extrafistrestrial entity.  It interrupts the everyday mundane fist bumping on the ground with a fiery ingenious spectacle in the sky.  I believe this fist bump of my own creation to be such a spectacle.

Please, enjoy.

Receive the person's fist from a downward angle, make no contact, and create the rumbling sound of entry into the atmosphere.  You may also call it the Un-Dinosaur Handshake.

Back From a Trip Up North

Visiting Santa's lair.  No, actually visiting Door County.  Where Santa's summertime lair resides.  He says hello.  Anyway, sorry you had to go that week without a fresh injection of Andy to inoculate you against rampant boredom. 

The CDC (Center for D-level Comedy) is back on the beat!

A New Social Networking Site: Macebook

I want to rejuvenate the social networking site industry.  Let's present this idea in the journalistic who, what, why, when, and where format.

WHO?  I'm Andy.  That's my name at the top of this page you are reading.  Hello.  You're fun.

WHAT?  It's called Macebook.  It's just like Facebook, except that all pictures must include a face that has just been shot with pepper spray.  Whether it's photos of you pushing your child on a swing, or you blowing out the candles on your 50th birthday cake, all must be maced in the face.

(Click to view the larger, creepier version.)

That's the base look for Macebook.  Any case of any face in the photo space, regardless of race, must include a trace of mace or the placement of macement.

WHY?  You shut your mouth.  ... And open your eyes to my can of mace!

WHEN?  Always mace in the face.  Always.

WHERE?  You mean where the site address is, or where the mace should be sprayed?  I'm thinking Macebook.com, because it looks available.  As to your other question... in the face.  Mace goes in the face.

This Will Make My Resume Unavoidable

Job searching can ironically be one of the toughest jobs out there.  So thinking of ways to ensure that your resume will be read becomes a Herculean task.  Well, if Hercules wasn't a juiced-up freeloader, living off daddy.

I call this Saw-inspired trap... Dis-Qualified.  No, wait, let me "1,000 Ways to Die" this up a notch...

Here's how it works.  Once submitted, my resume must remain at the top of the pile of resumes.  Putting anything on top of my resume will cause the deadly neurotoxins hiding within its pulp to be released in a gaseous plume.  After unavoidable inhalation, you as the employer will become instantly and completely paralyzed forever, but remain conscience.

However, you will not only inhale a deadly neurotoxin, but an army of nanobots as well.  Up until the moment when your body completely shuts down from lack of food, water, etc., your retinas -- now home to nanobot squatters -- will have ceased transmitting images of the world around you and will instead transmit a single image into your field of view:  my resume.  In PDF form.

And since the nanobots will need to install Adobe Reader into your central nervous system in order for you to properly view a PDF file, data space will need to be created in your brain.  All happy and pleasure-giving memories, whether people, places or events, will be deleted to make space for the latest version of Adobe Reader, with all the extras.  The nanobots will download the largest version available and click "Yes" to any and all Adware tacked on.  Annoying search bars, useless irritating desktop applications, random pop-up surveys -- all will haunt your cerebral cortex until the end.

Whether your eyes are open or closed, it matters not.  You will have only horrible, boring, and horribly boring memories left in your brain to ponder, and only one image in constant view.  You will see only my resume.  And you will see that I am qualified.

And also pop-up ads for coffin businesses.

Andy's Happy Robot Funtime Cheetah Adventure News Post

That incomprehensible title says it all.  I try to read a lot of news everyday.  Here are some news stories that caught my attention.  And I thought you might like them.

The Dirty Little Secret About Childless Couples
Spoiler: there's no Santa!

Kim Kardashian Wears See-Through Leggings
How is that different from, say, I don't know... skin?

Man Dies From 12-Hour Xbox Marathons
He is in death as he was in life, not really moving a lot.

MTV Is 30 Years Old Today
Oddly enough, this news story contains videos.

Cure For Memory Loss Could Be One The Horizon
Now if we could just remember where that horizon went...

Tea Party Not Happy With Debt Ceiling Deal
Well, when your default position is tea bagging, you can't expect a lot of people to jump into bed with you.


Go, injection of topical events reporting for the purpose of laughter discharge!