Deep-Frizzlin'

I deep fried a turkey last weekend, it was pretty awesome. We were at a party and thought shooting a .22 rifle and deep-frying a turkey would be a good idea. Turns out we know a good idea when we hear one.

Academics need to stop trying to have their cake and eat it too. When doing some sort of statistical analysis people are quick to point out "Oh, my estimates aren't causal" or "This is just an association, not causation." The rhyming is intended to scare away white people (90% of academics) so it normally lets them get away with it. Fine. But then they make a conclusion like "Since X and Y have this relationship, let's give people more X to make them have a more desirable level of Y." This implicitly means that they are treating X as causing, in some manner, Y. After saying "This is not causal" they go ahead and make causal recommendations on policy, etc. The irony would be delicious if it weren't something I am served up daily.

Causation, nooooo!

Cool Place to Park

Ok, ok, so what? I didn't post for a couple months, cut a brotha some slack. I've been busy with... stuff... Like, you know, all that stuff I've been doing.

What have I been doing? Oh, I dunno, maybe listening to wicked new music:

Austrian Death Machine. Hilarious metal band, based entirely on Ahhh-nuld movie quotes. Check out their newest hit single "I need your clothes, your boots, and your motorcycle."

The Ravonettes. I had not heard of them before, but they aren't new. Good driving at night in the city music. Check the song that got my attention in my buddy's car. The video kinda sucks, but the music is all you need, so put it on and open a new tab.

Ya, that's pretty sweet, but what else? I've not been playing new video games.
"What's that?" I hear you asking in your mildly bemused yet superior tone, "BFG gave up on playing video games? Maybe he is finally growing up." Think again mothefucka. I'm playing OLD video games. If anything, I've regressed back to a point in my childhood so long gone that I am going to be the first person in history making negative maturity progress. How? The FC Twin, that's how. This borderline legal piece of equipment plays all the old hits for NES and SNES. Let's just say I'm bringin' back Contra. My boy comes over once a week and we take a go at Super C. They just don't make punishing games like they used to and we can get to Area 7, a feat I never accomplished in my childhood.




I dare you to play Super C. I fucking dare you. It will humble you.

"Next Blog"

I clicked on "Next Blog" up at the top of the page a couple of times to test what came up. Let's say I did this about 10 times. 6 of those 10 times, the blog that came up revolved around food, exclusively food. One was some single mom sharing recipes, another was a couple and their food-related travels, and another was a guy that really likes bacon.

Avid food blog reader.

3 of those 10 blogs were religious in some way. The 3 I saw were Christian, but I am sure there are Islamic, Jewish, Hindu, Sikh blogs, etc. These were the boring ones.

1 of 10 was a completely pointless blog that I didn't want to read. Kind of like this one. Which led me to wonder, what makes a popular blog? There's the obvious: Being famous, appealing to a subculture, being associated with a bigger more popular website. But what is a small timer to do? Here's the answer: Nothing. There is nothing desirable about having a popular blog. A wise man once said "Fans are clingy complaining dipshits that are never happy no matter how many concessions you give them." Why would you want a bunch of people reading your blog that you don't get paid for? So they could say things like "Gee whiz, that was a long time since your last entry, why don't you type entries most regularly so that I can complain that they aren't even MORE frequent"? You don't need that!

Get away from us, we don't like you anymore.




Anyway, point of the post: We, as a people, need to stop being so fucking obsessed with food that we devote entire blogs to it. What the fuck?

The True Meaning of Christmas is...

... Beating Resident Evil 4 on Professional difficulty, obviously. I often think about these time-honoured traditions, such as battling the Village Boss (whatever his name is) to get the eye and dying a couple of times because I am too cocky, and I think "How could I ever have these valuable rituals if I had kids?" The answer is that I couldn't, they would be eating the controllers and shitting all over the game.



He's comin' over to babysit.

My dear friends recently had a little girl, some other friends of mine (less dear, but still okay) recently announced that they are expecting a round little baby. The first couple don't play video games so the baby can be their new hobby, but the second couple are pretty selfish! I mean, coooome on. This guy is late to everything! How is he supposed to look after a baby when all he wants to do is play Arkham Asylum?

Anyway, all babies and video games aside, the true meaning of Christmas is to watch Christmas movies just because you can. Cancel your motherfuckin' plans, sit your fat ass down, and watch the greatest movie of them all "A Christmas Story." Not because it is a good movie, because you have nothing to do. It's even got rabbits!



Oh Aunt Martha, when will you learn?

I can hear you now "O, BFG, I would if I could but I have to do X, Y, and Z." I don't care, cancel that shit and chill out. Christmas break isn't about doin' stuff, it's about doin' nothing or slightly more than nothing, such as beating a game you basically have memorized for the 80th time.

Whoa whoa whoa... Whoa

The posting of (potentially) fat chick titties is taking your comeback tour one step too far, LF.

Bunnies and Football

Unfortunately, Rocktober is past -- leaving us with November, a month which can only claim fame as the month political assassinations go down, or harbor bombings are plotted.

Fortunately, we can remember the spirit of Rocktober (or at least the picture of it) with this similar poster, as stolen from a fine competing blog to this humble one. Let this be my ode to professional football in all of its sorts, especially the amateur-esque qualities of CIS football.



And, as well, a cute bunny photo, to liven things up more, as stolen from cute overload. Did things ever get sappy here while I was gone. Perhaps I'll break out the recipe book for my favorite brownies next.

Bunnies

They're pretty fuckin' awesome.