March 26, 2007 by ignatiof.

Here’s my first review review. Today I’m reviewing Karl Wells’ review of the Red Pepper, a restaurant where you choose what gets stir-fried.

Mr Wells’ review reads more like a story than a review. He goes into considerable expository for the first half of the review, then settles into a sensible critique near the end. He could have easily shaved off half the words and still gotten the point across. If he can get away with that, then I can do this: the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the, and everyone’s happy.

For the most part his review is sensible, although I have a few concerns. He finds several significant issues with the restaurant, yet still gives it 8/10, which, if you have ever attended any kind of formal schooling, is purty darn good. Yet, oddly, in his review summary, his major problem with the place is their cardboard-tasting dessert. Like he says, no one goes there for the dessert, and suggesting it’s the biggest area for improvement is premature if you haven’t tasted the dessert more than once. Maybe the baker was having a bad day; mixed in some gyproc instead of flour.

So in summary, I give this review a 6.5/10. It’s too damn long, contains superfluous information, and the score is too high.

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March 26, 2007 by ignatiof.

Everyone loves writing about their experiences. That’s why there are so many reviews on the Internets, and why there are so many reviewers. Writing reviews takes no credentials, no experience, and pays nothing. It’s much like sex, unless you’re a prostitute.

Now don’t get me wrong. Some reviews are useful. Take an automobile review, for example. When you’re paying $25,000 for a car, you want to know a bit about it unless your name is Angus. On the other end of the scale, there’s reviews of rock concerts. The show is over, there’s no opportunity for anyone in your city to go see it, so why the hell are you writing a review of it? If you answered, ‘to make your friends jealous about how lucky you were to score front row seats and backstage passes to see ‘, then collect your $10,000.

So to add to the universe’s leximass, I’m going to start a review column here on my blog. What am I reviewing? You guessed it - reviews.

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March 26, 2007 by ignatiof.

Does Prison Break equal chess? Well, no, since chess is a turn-based game played by two players on a 64-square board, while Prison Break is a weekly drama about prison escapees on the Fox network.

But there are some similarities:

1. Lincoln Burrows is the King. If he dies, it’s game over.
2. Michael Schofield is the Queen. He has all the power, and the show is about him, but it could conceivably continue without him.
3. Then there are all the helper characters (rooks, knights and bishops), like Sucre, C-note, and Sara Tancredi.
4. And let’s not forget all the pawns. The many, many pawns.

Well that’s all I got.

Hmmm, now that I have it written down, maybe they’re not that similar.

Next week’s article: how Australia is like a Bunsen Burner.

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March 24, 2007 by ignatiof.

For the past few weeks as my MSN personal message, I’ve been gradually rising up the evolutionary scale. It started off something like this:

• Day 1: Organic molecule
• Day 2: Amino acid
• Day 3: Simple single celled organism
• Day 4: Complex single celled organism
• Day 5: Algae

And the finished up this past week with this sequence:

• Monday: Macaque
• Tuesday: Gorilla
• Wednesday: Rosie O’Donnell
• Thursday: Chimpanzee
• Friday: Homo sapiens

So there it is, the Rosie joke with the longest setup in the history of the world. I feel proud.

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March 21, 2007 by ignatiof.

Last week, we called the Cat Delivery Service (TM), and had a kitten delivered to our house. Pretty convenient, hey?

We’re thinking about keeping her, as a companion to our existing cat. Now the cats don’t respond when we call their names, so for the sake of clarity, we’ll just refer to them here as Black & White Cat and Brownish Cat. Here’s a picture of Brownish Cat.

Isn’t she beautiful? Now when the two cats started to get friendly, they smelled each other’s cornholes. What is with that? And why don’t human females sniff each other’s butts when they greet? I know a lot of people who would pay to see that. Not me, of course. My fiance would find out about it, and I’d get in trouble.

Brownish Cat was called Chloe by original owners, and we are probably going to keep that name. It’s a nice name, but I still have memories of watching Three’s Company in which an episode of the show had Jack dating a woman named Chloe with large breasts and he kept calling her Chesty.

So in summary, 1 cat + 1 cat = 2x as much poop to scoop.

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