Dear Entrecard,

Predator Press


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My first email was just a simple suggestion, and the Entrecard site says, quote: "We're very keen for any feedback you can give. Complaints about broken things, stuff you like, things you think are pretty or ugly, or even questions you'd like answered."

I can't bring my original query up because it wasn't in conventional email. But my suggestion was "Instead of subverting the ads we spent our credits on, why don't you just phase in "Paid Ads" after 120 seconds or so?"

Brilliant, right?

The response was this:

"Hi,

Thank you for your email. Please restate your question because I'm unsure what you're asking. We have the sponsor ads which Entrecard reserves 15% of the ad network inventory for sponsors.

Please let us know if you have any other questions.

Entrecard Support

This prompted my response:

"Seriously.

-You have NO IDEA what I'm talking about? How about forwarding this email to one of your supervisors?

Lemme simplify:

When you do a "PAID AD" (aka an ad where you subvert our credits for cash), how about making the "PAID AD" (the ad where you subvert our credits for cash) phase in after a minute or so? That way our "CREDITS" -the mystical crap you made up so we get something for spreading the word about your site- is still actually worth something?

-And PS: does EC even have 300 people a day I can "drop" on anymore????"

:)

Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Beautiful

Predator Press

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Marrying a hot chick should have inherent perks.

See on a scale of 1-10, if you factor in the charm, raw genius, and Adonis-like physique, I’m only about a 12.

But unfortunately, this makes my wife roughly a 19-22.

-Mathematically this equates being married to a big pain in the ass according to science.

See, a 19-22 such as my wife should regard a lowly 12 as pretty mediocre, right? I should be the jealous one. Sure I suppose it’s remotely possible a bunch of rogue, drunken supermodels might somehow not notice I’m married, taser me, inject me with drugs causing a thick amnesiatic fog, and toss me -kicking and screaming- into a van with tin foil covered windows in order to tie me up and live out sick and debauched fantasies.

But would that be my fault?

I think my slacker wife and drunken perverted supermodels with tasers, drugs, tin foiled vans, and a preternatural gift for skillful knot tying should share some culpability here. I mean maybe you could overlook the wedding ring, but shouldn’t this big, throbbing vein in my forehead be a dead giveaway to my marital status too?

Well apparently not.

Whenever Terri and I go shopping, I always have to stare at the ceiling joyces and lighting fixtures lest my eyes randomly fall in the direction of anyone even vaguely female. And how do you shop like that? I once went into a WalMart for catfood, and came out with six stitches and a mulching lawn mower.

-Despite the tongue lashing I gave the manager, that light fixture is still flickering and my cat hates me.

I’ll bet the lawn looks good though.

White House to Bail Out Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Predator Press

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In news that came as a shock to a sports world still buzzing over Rush Limbaugh’s failed bid to purchase the Saint Louis Rams, Hilary Clinton has announced her intent to acquire the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

“Guess what, you ****ing ****s,” she told press conference attendants. “It really was a Vast Liberal Conspiracy! Now unless it's Election Day, get the **** out of my face you ****-knocking piece of ****-eating ****stick -or I'll have your **** removed, and your entire family tree ****ed, ****ed, and ****ed.”

Details of the conference are garbled.

-My “*” key kept getting stuck.

Chicago Cubs File for Bankruptcy

Predator Press

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As a Chicagoan, I’ve been following the Cubs for years.

-Drafting them in my Fantasy Football League was the last thing they needed.

Jealous?

Predator Press

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I’m both puzzled and alarmed at the media distress over Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize.

First, it seems to me that a sitting American president getting one could only be a good thing in regard to global politics and the "world stage."

Second, who cares? Unless you were another nominee and screwed out of yours, I don't see this as much more than pointless whining and pining about something that has nothing to do with you anyway.

And didn't two American win Peace Prizes in economics this year? Haha -anyone upset over something 'Noble' isn't even spelled correctly on needs a nap.

But fret not! When you wake up, there's this cool place you can go to called a "trophy store" and buy a correctly-spelled Peace Prize. Or anything really! For less that a hundred bucks you can get a spiff one waaaaay bigger'n Obama's, and get it engraved with something cool like "2009 Superbowl MVP" too.

Besides, having the "But I've got a Peace Prize" phrase in your chamber is fantastic against counter arguments: case closed, end of debate, nothing torpedoes logic more effectively. So relax. I'm sure this White House -as would any other- will be putting that baby to good use almost immediately. I myself have three or four Peace Prizes for precisely this reason.

-And that isn't counting the one I sent back when the delivery guys scratched it on the ceiling fan either: once my “Just for Bein’ Kickass” Peace Prize is replaced, I think I'll have five.

But that one is my favorite.

I'm golfing on that one.

Frozen Ted Williams Head Sparks Controversy

Predator Press

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Alcor, the company facilitating storage of baseball great Ted Williams' frozen remains, is reeling under media siege due to scandalous allegations of post-mortem abuse to the decedent put forward by former employee Larry Johnson.

Cryonics is a process where remains are frozen and preserved in hopes that one day medical science –once sufficiently advanced- may be able to revive and cure the deceased.

“I wasn’t the slightest bit suspicious until the company picnic,” claims Johnson. “But finding that Red Sox cap in my daiquiri really got me to thinking.”

While Alcor has thus far refused to talk directly with mainstream media, Predator Press got an exclusive interview with Chairman Charles Platt.

“We are flatly denying these shocking and baseless accusations, accusations made by a clearly disgruntled former employee,” says Platt. “We have begun an internal investigation regarding numerous recent record-setting three legged race results. But that is purely a coincidence, and you would be a fool to think otherwise. Crap. I said that out loud, didn’t I? Oh, look behind you! Britney Spears!”

Kanye West has yet to comment on the unfolding drama, but I might have missed it when I was looking for Britney Spears. Still, I feel confident West would have concurred with my gut instinct that a baseball player that wants to make out with space chicks wasn't a very good story, and that Predator Press readers would prefer some good, juicy dirt on Kevin Federline. Heck, what was Britney Spears doing here anyway? Was she going to freeze her head too?

Unfortunately, it appears Britney Spears is very elusive when it comes to interviews and I never found her.

Ah screw it.

Never mind.

I’ll Take a Case of Those Baskets, Please

Predator Press

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This post comes with a battery of "hat tips." First, that image was found at CrownDozen.com -an interesting-looking site I'll certainly be exploring in some greater depth.

Second, this post is inspired by a podcast by Adam Carolla and Larry Miller; it was they who made the astute observation I’ll distill simply as “In ‘70s cinema, there wasn’t anything not to susceptible to demonic possession."

This goes for cars, dolls, kids, dogs, severed appendages, televisions, statues, totems, jewelry, clothing … ah cripes, that list just goes on and on and on.

Everything in the ‘70s would at some point would try and kill us. And if it wasn’t due to an outright demon possession, it was some crazy recluse exercising some unexplained mind control, sicking killer bees or hounds or something on some hapless and well-intended yet far-too-nosy tourists. Or a monster or robot that inevitably turns on it’s “master.”

Again, I’ll return to paraphrasing Adam and Larry’s funny dialogue: it starts with the indignant “How dare you! I made you!” But this former minion is undaunted, having gained some insight to it’s own evil misuse: right smack in the now-burning “control center,” it would kill the puppet master -and itself- even as the evil human mastermind unconvincingly screamed ”Noooooooooo …!”

The people who voted on the Oscars –“the Academy” or whatever- in the ‘70s must have been very, very bored and overpaid.

Still, another ten years or so of the ‘70s would have produced some fairly interesting results ... On that trajectory, a movie about robot zombie space piranhas would have been completely inevitable.

[*sigh*]

-Now I can’t get anyone to look at my screenplay.

How The West Was Spared

Predator Press

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Jesus' Friends Were Jerks

Predator Press

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Look, I’m only sayin it because I’m right around His age when everything went south.

-Right about now, Jesus is planning for a World Tour to spread His Message. So He’s packing, going over travel plans, hiring His security detail, checking His itinerary against His reservations, and verifying that His passport is in order.

But then His buddy Bill comes in.

“Word up, JC,” says Bill. "I brought the water."

“Word,” says Jesus. "Look, I'm really busy. Just set them in the corner, and I'll change them into wine as soon as I can."

"Cool," replies Bill. “Whatcha doin?”

“I’m making ready to spread My Sacred and Holy Message, that I might save the world.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“I don’t know,” says Bill, scratching his chin.

“You don't know what?”

“Well, any religious nut can go on tour. I mean you might as well walk around wearing one of those sandwich board signs that says ’THE END IS NEAR’.”

“What do you suggest, Mister Smarty Pants?”

Bill thinks quietly for a moment. “I think you need to think big. What if you get betrayed, captured, beaten, whipped, skinned alive, crucified, and your remains are subsequently squished through the mesh of a screen door, thereby absolving Humankind of all their sins?”

“I rather like My idea better,” says Jesus. “Look at My tour schedule. I’ll be in Cancun right in the middle of Spring Break!”

“It's been done. Look J, this isn’t, like, B.C. anymore. In these modern times, people are a lot more sophisticated. They need something dramatic."

“We could do a bake sale.”

“Meh,” sighs Bill. “You know these wacky Romans … someone is bound to lace some brownies or something, and then there’s a huge chariot pileup. Then there's an investigation, and it finds who responsible? You. The insurance liability alone just makes me shudder. Don’t set yourself up for failure like that.”

“I don’t know, Bill. Maybe I could-”

“No,” Bill interrupts, grabbing Jesus firmly at his shoulder. “Look, you're the Messiah. And as the Messiah, one has certain obligations to go beyond sermons and bake sales.”

“So I’m supposed to let them kill Me!?”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I didn’t make you the ‘Son of God’. I’m only telling you all this because I’m your friend.”

“Yeah, I know," sighs Jesus resolutely. "Thanks.”

“No problem,” says Bill. "Now how about them buckets?"

This Crack Me Up Long Time

Predator Press

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Now I'm as guilty as anybody butcherin' our fine American grammar, punctuation and spelling good 'n proper.

-Perhaps doubly so, because "American" is my first and only language: if you laid all the English teachers and editors I've driven to suicide end-to-end, they would doubtlessly stretch to somewhere in the middle of New Mexico.

But in my defense, Predator Press, like GM, doesn't sell anything.

Besides, have you seen New Mexico lately? I'm sure they would welcome the companionship.

So Terri and I got a good laugh out of this:

"Finding Ease in Getting Number of Traffic Visitor in Our Site. Business is the need of every human being, especially to establish a life in a household, and also it can add business income from all of us. By doing a business we will have a lot of money, and also when a business has a lot of visitors, was able in making sure that the money generated will be abundant."

"Just what are they selling?" Terri giggles.

"I don't know," I says. "But it was $860 for three of them."

"What!?!"

"Oh come on. When is the last time you saw something that hilarious? This will doubtlessly provide us with endless amusement."

Terri scowls. "I took your credit cards away months ago."

"Tell me about it," I says. "It wasn't easy to get them to take a check."

The Predator Press IQ Test

Predator Press

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The worst economy in the world is associated with:


a) Calcutta

b) California

c) Entrecard


Who loves the most people?


a) Oprah

b) Jesus

c) David Letterman


2+2=


a) 3

b) 5

c) Playing Pictionary with our geeky, jackass neighbors who never bring food, and don’t know **** about ****.


“End of Second Quarter” is another term for:


a) Halftime

b) Twenty-five cents

c) Oh holy crap I hope there’s nobody in the bathroom



If a black hole the size of Manhattan appeared in Pennsylvania:


a) The ACLU would sue it for defamation

b) The price of #2 pennsyils would skyrocket

c) Jon Gosselin has hope for new realty TV series



Result:

IQ=957

See? ALL Predator Press readers are GENIUSES

(Except for guys named 'Travis.' I hate those jerks! Know why King Travis the Second never conquered Rome? 'Cus there never was no King Travis -First, Second or Third: it's a name we just made up, like, twenty years ago! If you're going to bother making up names, try something with cajones .... like 'Chainsaw' or something. Unless you're a guy. If you're a guy, go for 'Todd.')