Science That Matters

// Hey, look! I've improved the Snuggie! See, my Snuggie isn't the same as everyone else's. Mine wraps around the entire body and has my college's name written on it. Also, mine is extremely portable. Sometimes, I'll even wear it at work - all day - and no one will say a thing! Isn't that awesome?

// I did myself a little shopping this past Friday. It was a retail therapy kind of thing. Lately, I've been winning the game of life and I decided to go sick. I ended up with some incense and a copy of GQ. Nevertheless, it was a nice little afternoon. While walking up and down Grand River Avenue, some inspiration struck me. Not "million dollar idea"-type inspiration, but still. It started with an iota of personal terror. I was listening to The B.S. Report podcast and enjoying a robust chat between Bill Simmons and SNL's Seth Meyers. (By the way, if you're not already getting down with 3-4 good podcasts, I highly suggest you start. There are soooo many great podcasts out there. They'll really augment your daily enjoyment.) So I'm listening to the podcast and the two entertainers are cracking wise about the show. Simmons said something particularly funny - I can't recall exactly what - and before I could recoil, a big idiot smile charged onto my face. It took me about three seconds to reel it in and another 5 minutes to calm down. Why? Because I have a weird thing about looking like a simp in front of everyday passersby. It's one thing to do something dumb in front of friends or family. I have no problem with that. In fact, I do it on purpose, and quite often. For whatever reason, I fear looking like a moron in front of complete strangers; people I've never seen before and will likely never see again. I'm not sure why that is. My brief personal moment of abject terror aside, I took away a valuable, if otherwise inapplicable lesson: don't listen to something that will make you laugh when you don't want to be seen laughing. The rule can also apply when I'm listening to Michael Jackson, whose ridiculously awesome songs always seem to make me dance embarrassingly. Countless times I've caught myself ambiguously grabbing my crotch in very public forums. Not good times.

Anyways, let's hit the inspiration I received. I would like a device that could eavesdrop on other people's iPods. Wouldn't that be fun? Not only would I like it for listening to other people's iPods, but I think I would enjoy knowing that other nearby people are potentially eavesdropping in on my iPod. I can imagine sitting on a bar patio and giving an occasional Broseph the patented "ess-eating-grin-with-subtle-acknowledging-nod" when I like a song the Broseph is jamming to.

I also like the idea of iPod eavesdropping (iDropping?) because of the effect it would have on our understanding of stereotypes. You see, I have two distinct thoughts concerning stereotypes. For starters, I love it when a stereotype is proven true. Miggy and I went down to Atlanta this past summer to visit our buddy J$. Our first night there, we experienced Buckhead's fairly robust bar scene. The stereotypical payoff? Every single guy there looked like one of those idiots from MTV's Two-a-Days. The silly hair, the complete lack of dress sense, the constant look of exhaustion; it was all coming out quicker than a post-Taco Bell dook, and I couldn't help but be amused when everyone I saw looked exactly how I'd imagined they would. By the flip side of the coin, it's also somewhat satisfying when a stereotype is debunked. A nice example of this can be found in the movie Finding Forrester. I'm referring to the scene in which Jamal approaches Forrester's assistant guy in the projects and the assistant reacts as if Jamal is eyeing his BMW for a gank. Jamal then procedes, quite cockily, to display his intellectual feathers and school the assistant guy on the history of BMW before adding for good measure, "...but you probably know that 'cuz you lease one." OOOOOHHHH!!!!! It was a good scene and it illustrates the point quite well. So stereotypes can be fun in both ways.

As far as iDropping goes, imagine the potential fun to be had when applying stereotypes! Picture this: you're outdoors, enjoying a nice wheat beer on one of those perfect early spring afternoons. Ah, what have we here? Down the sidewalk comes a very proper looking young lady. She's got the cardigan buttoned up, the 60-year-old librarian glasses, her hair in a tight ponytail; she really personifies conservative. Wouldn't it be weirdly neat if she was listening to something like 2 Live Crew or DJ Assault? Stereotype debunked! With authority! By the same token, wouldn't it be cool to witness a guy trying his hardest to look like Gavin DeGraw actually listening to Gavin DeGraw? Stereotype confirmed! I really wish someone would invent this. I'd stay out every night till 3 just checking people. Dare to dream...

// I've touched on it before, but I'd like to reiterate: I'm very interested in names. I like the thought process behind naming children. I like the responses certain names seem to elicit. I realize it's kind of a weird thing to be engrossed by, but such is life. I've recently found myself in a bit of a quandary. I'll preface what I'm about to say with something I believe to be inevitable: I'm going to sire only girls. I've always believed that fate has an acute sense of irony. Ergo me, a young man who loves his own last name and says it constantly to anyone within earshot, will not beget any sons to carry on the glorious surname. I've accepted this as fact. Anyways, a while ago my fascination with names inevitably led me to conjure up my choices for my own future brood. Keeping in mind the female makeup, I came up with the following (in order and I'm shutting down the factory if I'm lucky enough to get 3): Layla, Scarlet, Sheila. The reasons are pretty simple: Layla and Sheila are homages to the (Eric Clapton and Ready For The World, respectively) songs and Scarlet is my favorite color. I think they're great names, but fear is causing hesitation. My fear is that I'm not using my brain enough to consider all the potential ways the names can be marred and mangled into (sexual) puns. I don't want some future version of Booger from Revenge of the Nerds making sex jokes about my daughters. The last thing 40-year-old Mike needs is another assault charge, and by now it should be well known: I don't play. So, dear readers, if you would be so kind, can you please ponder potential zingers that make fun of my future daughters names? I'd very much appreciate the effort.

// Aw, Baby... Link Dump.
+ This Is Why You're Fat. Not too long ago, I might have pleasured myself to this site. Good times.
+ NSFW. A joystick that uses your own penis as the interface. The reason this post is titled what it is.
+ New Era Fantastic Four Pack. The Invisible Woman one is the coolest, with half the hat made to look like it's transparent.
+ Now here is something very interesting. Video games made to look like yesteryear's book covers. Huh.
+ Shark Fin Ice Tray. These would be perfect for a Buffett concert. Maybe I just wanted to brag that I'm going to a Buffett concert this summer.
+ An Amazon Customer Review of a Pen. In the same vein of this review of Dunston Checks In. I like the idea of leaving little jokes on the internet that people may or may not find.

// Hasta luego.