Comcast Xfinity digital cable starter package plus sports bundle: a review

Yours Truly is as American as any other red-blooded, gun-totin', hip-shakin', burger-grubbin, moo-moo-buckaroo out there--with the exception of guns, burgers, and the fact that my veins circulate nearly three parts blood to two parts Horchata. However, a void has persisted throughout the years of my young adult life, a missing gem of a cultural right in every home built upon these lands spattered with purple mountain’s majesty, from sea to shining sea: cable television.

That wonderful link that has captivated the minds of millions through clever beer mascots (we’ll never forget you, Spuds MacKenzie), heartfelt moments (I always knew Zack Morris would seal the deal with Kelly Kapowski, but I never anticipated the ebullient weeping on my account), and tender jingles (I can still recall the timbre of my mother’s voice as she’d tuck me into bed lullabying the Meow Mix theme), now, after a few years break, an azure glow washes over the walls above my sleepless body with promises of toll-free numbers for guaranteed acne-free skin, toned abs, or the only kitchen knife I will ever need. I am a Comcast customer with the Xfinity digital cable starter package plus sports bundle.

At first I met the resurgent presence of cable with slight trepidation, but seeing as the bare bones of basic cable were freely available (for the first six months) after signing up for internet, and under the observational charms of “Seinfeld”, glimpses of decent “The Simpsons” episodes, and the wit the cast of the breakout reality series “Pawn Stars” exudes under the helm of the all-mighty “Chum-Lee”, I had little choice but accept and scurry deeper into the rabbit hole.

Wishing to expand this service, my panicked life-partner dialed up the Comcast company to let them know we took the bait while I was on the floor flopping from Monday Night Football deprivation. After a series of billing information questions sandwiched between holding music (led by patience-inspiring alto saxes), they had granted us access to a premier television experience, or so we thought.

An “Unauthorized Access” message remained on the screen where I expected ESPN in the dwindling minutes of halftime and a fast approaching second half. At this point I dialed Comcast to discuss possible technical difficulties, but mostly I sought reassurance in my anxious mental state. After repeating billing information three times to affable operators, my telephone experience concluded with a meditative twenty minutes on hold--scored by the same saxophone-led and celestially smooth jazz band, still performing that unending ethereal theme. I was unsure whether they’d forgotten about me or some phenomenon had happened in which my line was no longer on hold but had been crossed: was I listening in on Jehovah’s house band at a cocktail party on the dark side of the moon? Possibly. 

Either way, my Zen-like state was broken by the urge to witness the remaining minutes of Monday Night Football. Trusting that whatever technical issues I had would be resolved eventually, I walked to an Irish sports bar across the street. Although I finally had the satisfaction of directing my vision globes at a television displaying modern athletic feats, this sports bar did not match the comfort my own home would have provided. The staff’s countenance was so much the opposite of what I’d expect the Comcast customer service representative’s beaming faces to be, and the patron’s slack-jawed stares and slimy auras were shown like badges proving their rights to exist on the crusty edges amongst the dregs of society. Where was my comfort? Where was the smooth jazz? O, Cable, where art thou? 

My girlfriend called not after long. Our Comcast Xfinity digital cable starter package plus sports bundle was in full swing. Comcast wasn’t ignoring me on the phone, they were testing the American fiber of my being. I raced home with the same enthusiasm a hungry orc might have upon hearing “Looks like meats back on the menu boys!”

We watched the final minutes of football and I found my form in bed resembling a beached whale.   I spent that night and the following days exploring my newly expanded entertainment horizons and I’ve realized there is much to ponder. Does everybody REALLY love Raymond? How did you meet my mother? Will honey boo-boo fulfill the ancient prophecies? Ancient Aliens? Is it all connected? Possibly. This is a lot to process. Good thing I have the rest of my life to while away the days, basking in the glow of carefully designed and focus group approved commercial programming.

For enlightening customer service staff and variety of bundles, packages, and options (being the only internet service provider in the region), I’m rating Comcast and their Xfinity digital cable starter package plus sports bundle one “beached whale.” I would reward more, however, I don’t feel as though they had forced me to buy enough packages. Only time will tell though, and what is there to do on this earth but consume?

Dirt Devil Scorpion Handi® Stick

During the hectic holiday season, many shoppers scamper to and fro in search of the perfect deal. Amongst the waffle makers and counter-top grills, my room-mate Mary was hypnotized. Her eyes glazed over with a sparkle- lust that only an HD flat screen TV could portray. The pixels in her eyes shined in such a way in which she could not see clearly. Words of LCD and 1080p echoed in her brain cavity and in this haze of bewilderment she purchased the Dirt Devil Scorpion Handi® Stick III.

 

This Handi® little demon is essentially the classic hand-held dirt devil with two attachments and a 20 ft cord. It securely connects to the extension arm and the rolling floor brush assembly. I was impressed with its ability to clean up confetti off of concrete and the convenience of cleaning between couch cushions without crouching. The Scorpion Handi® Stick III has eliminated the hassle of stealing the souls of innocent crumbs. Now I can finally put down my foot when it comes to soot.

4 out of 4 removable parts

 

My life in 2012: A REVIEW

     Well, its been a while, dear readers. The last post on this god forsaken blog was the beginning of 2011. I have chosen to review 2012 because it is fresh on my brain and also this is right now and nobody cares too much about last year and also I "technically" still owe Shelley "money" for her car that I "crashed" so I'm just going to forget about it, as all of you should.
     So, like, what happened? Time is crazy, and stuff. Families are dead somewhere. I came up with a good nickname for Mitt Romney, only after he lost: "Legit Mitt Rom Dawg."Maybe next year, big guy.
     Sports, what's up with that?
     Politics, r u 4 real?
     Weather has been weird in parts of the country says weather.com, so that has been bad for accessibility and other people who are not me.
     The end of the Mayan calendar is upon us and it's funny as a joke but it's not that funny of a joke anymore, maybe 3 out of 5 chortles in the right context. The miserable ones wish for apocalyptic terms, but the funny thing about life is death isn't planned conveniently as such and you're lazy if you want to die in an apocalypse. You're probably begging for death because you're so lazy, and this is funny to me.
     Rushed overview for things I would have reviewed had I been good at doing this:

• Bought a tape player for camping and recording, 3 out of 5 stinks.
• Played the new Zelda game for wii and it was fun but the the controls don't allow you to be human shit in your bed because you have to swing that mother fucker wildly about. 2 out of 3 triforces.
• This old Suburu I've been driving around is a real piece of shit, but it's enduring and I named it CHAMPION. The windows don't roll down because I had to bungee chord them up because they're not on the track and it rains a fuck ton up here and I don't want to smell like mold. I got a flat tire with a dead phone and instead of having a tire wrench there were 7 cans of kidney beans and a tequila bottle full of vodka. Priorities, right? 4 out of 5 golden horse's powers.
• A short while after I moved to the northwest I was walking back from this bitchin' thai restaurant and no more than 30 feet above my head I saw a glorious bald fucking eagle carrying a huge as fuck iguana in its talons. I'm pretty sure iguanas are not natural fauna in the area, so the conclusion I came to is some creepy kid was playing with their stupid lizard in their backyard and a BALD FUCKING AMERICAN EAGLE swooped that shit up and told the little nerd "You're pet ain't nothin'." that was a whopping 5 out of 5 life experiences.
  
  In conclusion, 2012 has been kind of a piece of shit, but instead of sacrificing the human race, the "Mayans" on "MayEnd" are sacrificing "MayTais." See you next time.
  
   

boys night

So last night a few of our friends who are girls, decided to have a girls only "girl's club night." Feeling left out we decided to have our own party night. We made stir fry and watched the clippers game. Things were hot sweet and dandy at first. However after a prank on the house from the girls club girls our evening spiraled into a chow main cluster fuck. Our egos received an early blow and after one failed retaliation moral was real low. We argued of methods of pranks and tactics for a few hours. No clear prank was the stinkiest so we resorted to what guys know best. Big human dumps. Im unsure if this was a metaphor for our lives or just the night or what but we had a plan. Flip off the breakers, un-screw the light bulb in the bathroom, turn off the water to the toilet, and lay a big one. Wrap the toilet with a plastic bag then off into the night. We underestimated the better half of human genders. Our pranks were busted. Who knew a girl would know how to work the breakers or even know where they were. Even before we knew they were busted we got hit with several more pranks and arguments continued to dark places. Everyone leaves and Ryan needs to go home. So we take separate cars to see if they figured out our prank and to see if they needed our help. Or maybe it was to play another prank or to just reminess of a funny evening. On the way Ryan sees the ghost of his girlfriends car (probably going to prank us for the 10th time) and he hits the curb popping 2 of the tires in SHELLEY'S car. Only one spare, two tires done and we are fucked. Not much to do that evening except face the music and the music was really really really loud. We woke up this morning spent a million hours fixing 2 tires, had some breakfast thanks to Natalia (a joke i remember her name).

Everything is in order and then I check my voice mail. It's the cherry on top. There is no doubt in my mind about who is the smarter sex. Good job girl's club.

(a voicemail from colonics express.)

2 out of 1 million popped tires

Kevin the cat, a mewview

Yesterday after getting off work I decided to stop by KC and Corys casita house. While walking through the front door KC nonchalantly mentions he got a new cat. Upon seeing the tiny cat, I briefly thought it was Manga (Martha(sunny)), who recently went missing, except this cat was much smaller and his tail did not look like a bushy squirrel tail. He immediately bit me. His name is Kevin, which is a good name for a cat I think, or a guy who wears jean jackets with jeans. Kevin is good at jumping on stuff and ok at climbing things, except that the things he climbs are often people and he uses his tiny claws too much. This is a claw of a flaw, but one everyone is quite willing to overlook because we will all love him forever. We all have reasons to like Kevin. For instance I like his white boots. Kc likes his white tummy, and Ryan likes the white around his eyes. He is slightly stubby, low to the ground, a really fast runner, and sometimes after he bites you he licks you, which i take it is a small cats version of an apology. All kittens are cute and Kevin is certainly no exception, because hes cuter. Since he's pawing at my heart strings, three out of three chompin' kitts.

"Realistic" Cassette Recorder- a review

One night I was hanging out with a friend of mine and he told this really, really funny joke, and I would tell it to you, except that I can't remember what the joke was anymore.

It's such a bummer, and I decided I should start recording my friend's jokes and other things that aren't jokes too.

I invested in a hand-held cassette recorder, the brand is called "Realistic," which I thought sounded like a very promising brand name for a cassette recorder. Custom manufactured in Thailand. For Radio Shack. What could go wrong?

Well, apparently a lot of things. Everything sounds all muffled and it records all the wrong things entirely. Battery life blows, too. Unless you are trying to start a low-fi experimental punk side project, I would recommend something else.

Two out of five bad mix tapes.

Ryan's driving: a review

We stood carrying bags and jackets at Ryan's driveway, he came out of his house, naked for all the world to see, he wasn't expecting us so soon. This struck me as odd considering he was the one who had planned our departure time. He jumped back into his house, which gave Carlos, Ian, and I a few minutes to inspect the vehicle. Books, jewelry, pamphlets about the existence or non existence of God, spray cans, empty CD cases, ancient french fries, straws, loose change, one pepper shaker, one flip flop, one unopened can of Simpler Times, one black shoe, jewels, socks, tapes with no cases, cases with no tapes, beanies, loose papers of homework, belts, drug paraphernalia, and some other items which had questionable identities.

We were headed to LA for an art exhibition by some artists called the Date Farmers, because we wanted to prove to everyone how cultured, open-minded, and well-read we all were. And to hob knob. Because it sounds cool.

Ryan's mother walked outside, long hair and socks, and asked just one thing of us, "Please make sure Ryan doesn't get any parking tickets, I can't afford anymore." And with that she walked back inside. Ryan's little brother covertly peeked his head diagonally out from inside the front door, and I walked over to say hello. He almost frantically replied, "No habla ingles." Then uttered some other Spanish phrases which weren't coherent enough for me to bother translating. I kind of half-laughed, walked away, confused, back to the comfort of my friends.

Ryan walked outside, now fully clothed. "I thought you would have cleaned out your car before we left" I joked. Ryan replied, "I did clean it!" Which I somehow believed. His trunk held a wide variety of larger items, we crammed our bags in and they conformed to whatever shape the remaining space allowed, coats, hats, cameras, more books, art, more tapes, more drug paraphernalia, towels, blankets, pillows, slammed the trunk shut before everything fell out, and we hit the road.

The sun had melted the sky into an red hot orange and violet watercolor. Almost immediately Ryan packed a bowl, and we got super stony, The Talking Heads tape Ryan was playing suddenly made sense, and everyone sat quietly in a little car bubble of appreciation. We had to stop in Cabazon because Ryan had not eaten all day and needed a large burrito. This was inconvenient, and it gave Ryan heartburn. The rest of the drive consisted of angry, sludgy punk music. In Los Angeles Ryan calculated a beautiful display of parallel parking. One straight shot, beautiful composition, equal amounts of space in front and back, not to mention the consistency in the measurement of space between the curb and car. We were impressed.

All in all, a pretty decent experience. Ryan almost forgot where his car was once, but he found it quickly. He did lose his glasses once, but he found them rather quickly also. He also likes to pack bowls and smoke them while he is driving. But he does this rather well. So if you really like listening to the Talking Heads or the Grateful Dead, and you don't mind getting stoned while you're at it, and you enjoy burritos and don't mind the smell of cigarettes, then Ryan is the perfect driver for you.

Three out of three doobies.

Indian Wells Reviewed

On a daily basis some of you pass through what has recently become known as Indian Wells. I reluctantly frequent this destination five days a week for work. This city seems to have allusive boundaries: a small strip along hwy 111, the tennis garden (which seems like it should be a part of palm desert), and mysterious housing developments against the mountains. I wonder what it takes to become a city? It seems like all you need is a bunch of money and a city hall. Even the cities website seems as if it is for some spa get-a-way. For those of us who can't afford the million dollar homes and who don't care for gorgeous golf courses, what is this city truly? Is it merely one more place to get pulled over driving from Indio to Palm Springs? Well pretty much, however it does have other things to offer. It is an area where pursed lipped ladies, and people who don't know how to tip at restaurants, can purchase million dollar homes. I can't think of any better place to drive 10 miles per hour under the speed limit in a foreign car. For me this well is half empty,

5 out of 5 motorcycle dicks

Cory's blog review: a review

Lets not kid ourselves here, ODPD isn't exactly serious, relevant, or helpful in many ways, but I'd like to at least say we try our best to deliver some sort of truth and opinion while maintaining a level of interest and entertainment. Though Cory has had his journalistic gems in the past his recent review of our blog didn't amount to the standards we've strived for, and for this I apologize on his behalf.

The content of the post is shamefully lackluster especially since the potential is very clear, a great idea for a review which should have been able to write itself, or shelley should have written it as it WAS her idea. So, again, I apologize on Cory's behalf to Shelley.

I must also point out the disregard for our standard picture rating system in this particular post, which our 8 followers have praised us for in the past. This flop was full of structural neglect in general.

If anything Cory was lazy, and as an American citizen who has had his bouts with lazy demons (as many of us have fallen victim to in this blessed nation), I understand and forgive him as we all should. Nonetheless this dick is at half mast, coming in at 1 literal penis out of 5 Dicks.

Gillette Odor shield: a review

Today I went out and bought a Gillette gift package, as a gift for myself. It included the following items:

future glide pro Gillette razor

blue glide moisturizing shaving gel/creme

heated ex-foliating facial wash and scrub

Gillette Odor shield deodorizer stick

All of the pre-mentioned items were up to par except for the deodorizer. Its sticky white consistency left my armpit area looking like a yucca plant covered with clumpy snow. In addition, something amongst its many bizarre ingredients seemed to make me sweat more than my usual amount( which is already a lot). However the deodorizer's scent complimented my natural musk. Which is commonly described as perfume combined with BO. Unfortunately I am stuck with this stick. 2 out of 2 pit stains.

one dick per day: a review website reviewed

About a month ago Ryan and I had the idea to make a blog reviewing things that happen in our day to day life. We joked "Yeah we can like review the weather and like stuff no one cares about." Unfortunately our joke turned reality. Seven posts later we went live(posting it on facebook). We are now 6 followers strong and have an average of 7 views per day. This number seems like it should be higher considering the fact that I view it at least 6 times per day. I began to wonder what keeps this number so low? Is it the fact that our daily blog only has posts every 4 days. Or maybe it is the concept of the blog itself. A blog of things that no one cares about. I wonder what people think when they hear the name. "Is this one of those blogs that shows different pictures of dicks every day?" Maybe this impression might lure people in. Who knows? Who cares?

1 out of an infinite amount of blogs.

Thanksgiving: a review

Thanksgiving is a time to share with family, celebrate the harvest and the coming holidays, and of course, to give thanks. Its a celebration dating back to the foundation of this country i.e. slaying natives and the oppression of those weaker than ourselves.

My holiday was consistent of years passed, my grotesquely overweight family gathered around slop, grandma blathering about the weather in between racist undertones with her arm fat dancing wildly in the autumn light, dad's passionate yelling at the television, the daggers in the eyes of my step mother and the falsehoods i lay in conversations about returning

to school while simultaneously pretending to know about sports.

If you enjoy your family covered in boatloads of gravy this holiday is for you, but this turkey aint basted. This celebration gets 3 big ol' fat guys!

my moms new food processor(Cuisinart DLC-10S Pro Classic): in review

yesterday, as i was feverishly cooking soup in the kitchen, i decided i wanted a creamy soup rather than chunky. i debated between using the blender and the old food processor to get the job done, but upon learning that there was in fact a brand "spanking" new one waiting restlessly inside the cupboard i curiously reached for it. purchased at macys recent "black friday" sale, it was shiny, white, and childproof (you have to put the part that sticks into the little hole in top in place even if you don't want to to make it work), and the base of this machine weighed in at an annoyingly estimated twelve pounds. it received the immensely hot soup quite well in its 7 cup capacity plastic body. the blade, however, did not fall correctly into place and caused my soup the shame of some leakage, and required me to put my delicate fingers into the still very hot soup to fix it. pushing the pulse button, i blended vigourously for less than a minute before satisfied with the outcome. wonderfully creamy, steamy, and not a chunk left un-chunked. not to mention how delectable my portabello/sweet potato soup turned out. if you don't mind some heavy lifting and want to deal with the problem of having to wash a bunch of different tiny components after use, this food processor is for you. two out of five happy houswives.

My neighbors party: a review

Last night during a seance, lindsey and I heard loud music coming from a house near by. We decided to join in the festivities. So we finished our drinks and refilled them and headed over. We were immediately disappointed, when we snuck in the gate, that no one was dancing at this poorly djed party. We started suspiciously dancing in the back. We received awkward stares and were finally approached by the host. It was her deployment party and it sucked. What a terrible way to spend your last day as a free laday. However we quickly located the alcohol and began helping ourselves. The only thing that this party had to offer was nice mood lighting( a series of xmas lights coming to a point above the drive). The dj was playing terrible songs that were near impossible to dance to and the guests were already unwilling to dance. In between songs I plugged in my ipod and played "You can call me al." There wasn't a paul simon fan in the house. Finally we were kicked out for having too much fun and drinking all the rum. A stinky party for stinky people, but I'll take my memories. one out of thirty wasted nights of november.

Virtual Girl: Reviewed

A few months ago I stumbled upon(not using the recently popular website) an interesting screen saver type program. It is called virtual girl and it features scantily clad babes dancing in the corner of your computer screen. I thought it was the perfect addition to my computer and i wondered why it wasn't pre-installed on it when i bought it. The girls featured are dressed in leopard print clothes, leather, big shades and the like. The free version features a few girls and more download automatically each day. They also remain clothed unless you upgrade to premium. To my liking the girls change after 30 seconds and remain in view at all times pleasantly distracting you from what ever your doing. If it wasn't for this program there actually would be one dick per day. This saved my screen from a boring existence, 4 out of 5 sexy poses.

Carlo Rossi Jugged Sangria: a Review

For the passed five nights I have been purchasing and consuming Carlo Rossi Jug wine. Its a quantity AND quality scenario. Its fruit flavor is tremendous and it is sweet nectar for my awful life. It is the midnight fuel I need to function in this crazy world. Slowly sipping sangria and eating a pomegranate in a white shirt is a slight step away from heaven. With purple teeth, red lips, and a stained shirt I have been laughing my days away. I have even been given the nick name "Big Jug" by my peers. I will definitely purchase this product many more times especially on holiday occasions(even ones I don't celebrate). This beverage is 98% angel 2% devil and 100% delicious. 5 out of 5 annoyed friends. 0 out of 5 bad nights. 3 out of 5 hangovers the next day.

Cory and KC's wolf puzzle: a review

Tonight after a busy day i was looking to wind down a little bit, maybe enjoy my night merrymaking and doing generally

interesting things with my friends. To my great disappointment we did a puzzle. Though at first i was willing, and maybe even mildly entertained by the idea it proved to be too much fuss for too little pay off. I guess the up side of the puzzle is the design, 5 mysterious wolves in their natural snowy mountain habitat, but they camouflage well in a color scheme already lacking diversity making it difficult to distinguish anything in this 500 piece enigma (actual piece count coming in at 508). In conclusion, I'd howl with this wolf pack for 2 full moons of 5.

Cory's Computer: a review

Today I started writing a review of two and half men, and never finished... I was typing on Cory's computer, which seemed to be fine and easy to use at first until i left for a few moments and it fell asleep. I couldn't figure out how to turn it on or wake it up though it was humming and making noises, I gave up and forgot about it completely and then it turned on again, my brilliant critique on Charlie Sheen and his gang gone, forever. Even now its giving me trouble with the pad and mouse accessory being so sensitive that i accidentally rub against it and I find myself typing in the middle of a previous sentence. Also the internet goes in and out. This PC's windows are closed for business. In honor of Charlie Sheen's loss, this computer gets only one and a half men out of two and a half men.

Tempur-pedic mattress:

Last night i decided to go to sleep in my carefully arranged mattress scenario. When the sand man finally knocked upon my eyelids i was pleased to find my head rested on what seemed very similar to clouds. It was quite pleasant, however I felt as though something should have been wrong and when it wasn't i was disappointed. lambchop would agree, five sheep out of five.

Jenga a review:

The other day Lindsey my roomate suggested we do something to spice up our boring lives. That day we went out and bought Jenga. Although it was very fun at first I was disappointed when Lindsey knocked it over right away. I felt like it was a big hassle to set it up each time and the entertainment received was mild. I would much rather spend my time playing Operation, a game that lights up and buzzes. The rubber band is so hard to get and Lindsey couldn't do it. I won and I was really happy. Jenga on the other hand just couldnt stand up. one out of five puzzled players.

Daisy Buck Bb Gun:

Capacity: 150 or so bbs

Range: 100 meters with accuracy fleeting after 50

Accuracy: poor

Weight: 30 g

Durability: excellent

Today I decided to shoot bbs in the back yard. I chose to use my Buck bb gun rifle. I found that although it was very fun there were a few things that were disappointing. It seemed to be inaccurate from any distance. The capacity of bbs was a slight issue as well. In the middle of a heated shooting competition with Ryan i had to stop and reload. Ryan continued shooting and having fun while I was stuck refilling. The durability seemed to be okay. I performed several test and it passed most of them. It is slightly smaller than other bb guns in its category and it could be described as a dangerous toy. This bb gun is not a sure shot, 2 out of 5 rounds