Sam Diss

New Diets for 2013 (pt1)

Mon, 10 Dec 2012 05:47:10 -0500

Diets are big right now (“right now” being “the last twenty-five years or so”) - what with everyone being obsessed with body image and buying new dieting books and diet apps and an alarm clock to remind you when not to consume carbs - and especially after New Year’s when everyone resolves to actually make something of their miserable lives this year (LOL).

I hear that there’s money to be made in them there dietary hills so I’ve taken the liberty to come up with some of my own…

The Philip Schofield diet: Write a list of foods you think you might be able to eat, then possibly ruin your career.

The Nathan Bedford Forrest diet: Only eat food that’s white; die from acute complications from diabetes.

The Gym diet: Queue up for an hour to eat the food you actually came to eat, then - when someone asks if you are finished - sheepishly nod and walk away before finishing your meal.

The Obama diet: Four-year marination period for all food stuffs; demand certification that the food is locally reared/Christian for extra Diet Points™.

The Morrissey diet: Vegan diet-plan only and you’re only allowed to eat foods started with V, E, G, A, N; foods that look like The Queen must be banished.

The Twitter diet: Plan to spend ten minutes cooking your meal but actually end up taking four hours, as you get lost cooking up egg-related puns.

The Diet diet: Only drink Diet Coke; only eat frozen Diet Coke; die within four days.

The Jimmy Savile diet: Kids menu only.

Unintentionally Quaint Rap Lyrics

Fri, 23 Nov 2012 13:38:08 -0500

Rap moves pretty fast. If you don’t and listen in once in a while, you could forget that Puff Daddy used to be a rapper who actually did raps and stuff. Cultural eferences in rap, like in movies, can quickly date a song; a bit like featuring Puff Daddy as a viable rapper on your song (Seriously! Things like that used to happen!)

Here are some unintentionally quaint examples:

“In the woodwork, crack sales bubble like Woolworth’s/ In the projects, richest niggas rocking all the real worth” - Raekwon da Chef, “Verbal Intercourse”

1995 was a simpler time: Lance Armstrong was winning things, Space Jam was about to come out, that fella from Manic Street Preachers disappeared, OJ found not guilty, Lance Armstrong was doing drugs… Uh, basically what I’m trying to say is: “Hey, remember when Woolworth’s was a thing?” Rae’s implying that his narcotic sales are so high that they rival Woolworth’s, a company now in near solvency. LOL economics.

“Super Nintendo, Sega Genesis/ When I was dead broke, man, I couldn’t picture this”- Notorious BIG, “Juicy”

Notorious BIG, or Biggy Small as he was sometimes referred to by his mother and/or the guy from Dominoes pizza, often rapped about things which now seem arcane: Super Nintendo was a games console by Nintendo - the creator of GameCube and anagram of “indent on” - whereas Sega Genesis famous for being the first games console mentioned in the bible. Hope that clears things up for younger listeners.

“Fucking with me ‘cos I’m a teenager/ With a little bit of gold and a pager” - Ice Cube, “Fuck Tha Police”

You know it’s funny really: Ice Cube used to be your mother’s worst nightmare (and I don’t mean her reoccurring nightmare about her collapsed Pavlova). He was “Amerikkka’s Most Wanted” (a clever play on the word “America” and the racist organisation the KKK, which subtly implies that America is “fucking racist as fuck”) but this lyric comes from when he was in a rap boy-band NWA - an initialism which I am reliably informed stands for “North-West Acton”, which strikes me as strange. Ice Cube is now a fat middle-aged dude from the popular “Black Dude, When Are We Getting There?” film series and no longer a teenager; also, the boast that you’re wearing “gold” and a “pager” is moot - “gold” has connotations of Jeremy Kyle and a “pager” is a thing that I have no idea what it is, but I’ll ask my parents.

“Sipping Remy on the rocks/ My crew something to watch” - Jay-Z, “Can’t Knock the Hustle”

I’m not sure that Jay, a bastion of taste and referred to by some as the black Joaquin Phoenix, would make such a boast now; he was young and reckless in 1996 when “Reasonable Doubt” was released (wearing double denim, doo-rags and referencing the CLASSIC Depp/Brando movie “Don Juan DeMarco”) but in retrospect he must be spinning in his six-hundred thread-count sheets, thinking about how he BRAGGED about sipping Remy Martin WITH ICE. So uncouth a faux pas, Jay-Z may as well have rapped about how Jimmy Savile was always a role model to him or how he didn’t know the difference between a salad fork and a dessert fork.

TWITTER IN Q3 2012: DISS-PATCHES FROM THE FRONT LINE

Fri, 05 Oct 2012 18:39:00 -0400

Hey, remember a few years ago when you said that “Twitter thing” wouldn’t take off because it was just a load of narcissistic retards talking about what salad they ate and how they’ve managed to bore themselves into stasis? No? Of course you don’t.

You definitely don’t now that you’ve absconded the blue-and-white isles of Facebook (with their right-wing “Fuck you, I’m gonna keep all this shit whether you like it or not” platitude) for the [insert the colour you’ve chosen for your Twitter page] leftist archipelago of Twitter.

Suffice to say, the twats remain, for “twats” they always were (so much so that they didn’t even need a portmanteau) but you can unfollow them. None of that, “Oh I’m going to hide you from my Facebook timeline or delete you altogether but oh wait what if I see Fatty Mary from accounts and she’s all like “I tried to invite you to my food tasting party-thing, or whatever, but I couldn’t find you on Facebook and oh yeah did you see those pictures of my nephews?” No, sir, you can just politely unfollow someone - even someone you may like IRL, but are something akin to food poising online - and nobody really notices. They might let slip that they know what you did and that they’ve marked your card but you can just say “Hey man, my Twitter has been shitty lately. I’ll make sure to refollow you when I get home” and then unfollow them from real life too, ‘cos fuck those people.

What with the incessant “Look at me! I’m so bored” nature of Facebook, Twitter is a relief; a relaxing poop after a shitty day at work. Sure ,the lefty-pitchforks get drawn daily if someone so much as is caught singing a reggae song in the shower in a kind-of-racist accent, but isn’t that preferable to four “LOL I HATE ASIANS” posts a day from guys who smelled like fried food in school? You can follow the best and brightest (and pornstars!) or you can just follow your friends (but you would, admittedly, be “doing it wrong”).

Comedians will make you laugh a few times a day, straight to your phone, FOR FREE: it’s like having loads of funny friends who are really smart and cool but don’t actually know you exist (a bit like being me in school). People who complain about a comedian’s joke falling flat are chastised in public and hounded by sometimes-thousands of back-water weirdos who want nothing more than for the person who didn’t find Sam Grittner’s joke funny to die of AIDS. It really is a halcyon age of social networking.

In conclusion, Facebook is like that disgusting, lukewarm, foul-smelling Ultimate Fried Chicken bargain bucket you’re about to shovel into your disgusting face-space, despite knowing that it will probably kill you; Twitter is the wanky artisan baguette from a boutique bakery where everyone behind the counter is gay and you’re okay with that because that’s the world we live in.

To conclude conclusion, we’re all THE WORST - but the people who take pride in telling you they don’t use any social networking are THE WORSTEST.

22 Tips to Enjoying London (Ultimate, un-Expanded Edition)

Fri, 31 Aug 2012 08:26:00 -0400

Hey guys! Sam here and I am on the train and, what with the Paralympics and all, I see a lot of new faces (and a lot of old faces! Who let you guys out of your retirement communities? Hahaha jk) so I’m going to give you a quick run-down of life in “the Big Smoke”…

1) NEVER call it “the Big Smoke” because people will fucking laugh at you.

2) DON’T get the District line anywhere that requires you to be on-time/happy.

3) ALWAYS work out what you want to order BEFORE you get to the till at Starbucks/Costa/Caffe Nero/some new one that I don’t know of yet, as dithering will see you get spinal shanked.

4) ENSURE that you enjoy your journey by turning “Turbulence” by Lil’ Jon or whoever EXTREMELY LOUD on your iPod headphones, without regard for fellow passengers or aural health.

5) NOBODY knows what is in the free Style magazines they hand out at the station, don’t even bother to find out.

6) EATING your chicken on a rush hour Central line train is a preferable choice to respecting the sanctity of a non-smelling-like-shit tube carriage.

7) NOBODY knows how to actually pronounce Theydon Bois so avoid this problem by never going there.

8) ALWAYS pretend to be asleep/engrossed-in-book if elderly person signals that they would like your seat.

9) FREAK people on the train out by smiling and complimenting the weather/their choice of book.

10) GET STABBED in the face by a million umbrellas by attempting to navigate Oxford Street in the rain.

11) WOMEN can be subjected to lustful glares and/or “accidental” gropes in public as their very existence should be construed as an overt sexual invitation.

12) SIT at the top of the bus, right at the front, survey all of the road and make beeping and brumming noises as you go, to be declared “King of the Bus”.

13) ENSURE travel hilarity by bellowing “That’s racist!” every time you hear or read the name “White City”.

14) IT IS legal to punch slow or erratic walking people in the back of the head.

15) DOWNING a shot whenever you see someone who is not a graphic designer in Shoreditch is a fun game if you hate drinking or hangovers or shots.

16) HUNGRY but POOR? Visit the Harrod’s food court for more freebies than your Instagram can handle.

17) LIKE bubbles but hate people realising their dreams? Visit Hamley’s and speak to their friendly toy demonstration staff.

18) IF you need to buy clothes but don’t want to shop in a place where you are respected/made to feel human by friendly staff, try American Apparel (Oxford Street or Shoreditch stores) or your drunken in-law’s wardrobe.

19) DRINK like a prince by downing a jug of rum and coke from Walkabout and drowning a tramp on Embankment.

20) DISREGARD the time-honoured traditions of Britain’s stairways by walking on the right or middle— basically anywhere but the left, which is where the “squares” or “lames” walk, with their archaic respect for order.

21) ENJOY one of famous parks by getting ice-cream from one of our famous Ice Cream Men or Weil’s disease from one of our famous rats.

22) PRETEND that you like London by always carrying a copy of Time Out before stepping out in-front of a bus so that no one can ever find out your terrible, terrible secret.

Words that can shit off

Fri, 10 Aug 2012 07:40:00 -0400

Once relevant now a shell of use, unwanted implications of douchebaggery and thingsthatmakemewanttopunchyouness; these words can fuck *right* off.

These include:

“Magical” - Oh really? Was it magical? “Magical”, was it? Don’t be a twat say “special” or just shrug like the rest of us.

“Powerful” - If you’re talking about machinery: fine. About a force: fine. About overtly pungent pesto: nearly fine. Used to describe your gym workout/ham-salad baguette/weekend as a substitute for good: run.

“Literally” - I would, literally, be fine if the word “literally” was completely expunged from the day to day lexicon, such is it’s worthlessness. Bloody nobody uses it correctly (“Oh it was “literally amazing”? Literally? Amazing?”), so screw it.

“Morale” - Doesn’t exist, stop forcing it.

“Epic” - Okay, your sandwich/fail was cool/funny/exciting, quit trying to ram Odyssey-implications up my arse when speaking of your brunch.

There are more.

Frustrating Nature of Language

Tue, 03 Jul 2012 13:25:00 -0400

The modern lexicon is littered with neologisms, with ‘bouncebackability’, ‘MILF’ and ‘rocketboob’being prime examples.

It gets a bit annoying after a while…

For centuries, the reflexive nature of language, the melding and borrowing of words from other languages, cultures or texts to better fill our linguistic needs has been lauded - to quote Chaucer, “All these new words are right good, like” - but I think we’ve hit the zenith. There is no need for new words. The tipping point had to be ‘reem’, a misspelling of an abbreviation that came to define a cunt, then a county and then the whole bloody country.

It would seem that - despite the word tank bubbling over - needs need meeting, with words such as “better” or “powerful” being recently appropriated for whatever the hell context you so please.

I think we need to start again. Far be it from me to suggest a word lessening akin to Orwell’s cromulent thinkbook ‘1984’, but if we just got rid of any words used by vapid muckfaces like Alex Reid or Jordan or Mitt Romney, we’d be stood in far better stead. I’d happily do without the word “money” or “house” if the words “What are you saying’?” were never again uttered.

With the extra word-room, we’d have more space to throw around fun words like “brobdingnagian” or “floccinaucinihilipilification” or “nobhammer” and we’d all be far, far happier.

What to buy with $100bil (Haps Bday, Mark Zucks)

Mon, 14 May 2012 19:10:00 -0400

Worth a reported 100 billion dollars (admittedly, at the current exchange rate, 62 billion pounds sounds WAY LESS impressive and poetic), everyone’s favourite privacy encroaching autist Mark Zuckerberg can pretty much do as he pleases. Here is what I do with his money:

Buy 66,889,632 orange traffic cones and create a hundred foot image of Tanning Mom (getting the joke in before it dies)
Buy 12,550 Congolese children because in the future, we’ll all be measured by how many east African children we have and not the content of our character.
Reanimating Marc Bolan specifically to record the soundtrack to Billy Elliot 2: Brisé or Die

Interns run the world

Thu, 15 Mar 2012 12:01:00 -0400

Little do you know it, but interns run the world. That great coffee you’re drinking? Intern’d. That brilliant shoe-shiner in the hallway? He’s an intern. That cool Obama “Hope” stencil poster thing from a few years back? Yep. An intern won the election. The facts in this article? Checked - you got it - by an intern.

How else would three-hundred invoices be entered into a library? You don’t have time to do that, you’re too busy; these LinkedIn invitations won’t send themselves, you know.

Does management really expect me to enter my own expense form? How am I supposed to claim back every double-shot soy-latte with cinnamon-froth and gingerbread-syrup on expenses when I don’t even get the damned things, the damned intern does? I’m not made of receipts.

I can’t answer my own phone: what if I miss the end of the eBay auction for this silken replica Driver jacket Ryan Gosling wore as the Driver in the movie Drive signed by Ren Osugi (whom I later found out was in a different film called Drive)?

What am I supposed to do if there isn’t an intern to remove gum from my shoe or to drive my daughter to the emergency room or to help wheel me to the bathroom when my Omorashi fetish gets too much?

I really wish we could pay the interns, I really do. But, in this current economic climate, we just can’t. In fact, when I get back from Cannes, just before I fly back to St. Barts, I’m going to bring it up with the board.

Where DO lonely hearts go?

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 03:12:48 -0400

The worst thing about her death (RIP) was that we never got an answer to the immortal question, “Just exactly where do lonely hearts go? Did they find their way home? Their parents must be worried sick because, seriously, hearts should be in a safe place they are really not made for such tomfoolery”.

Here are some possible answers:

Ikea, cutlery section (because, DUH, “lonely”)
Outside an abandoned Blockbusters
Outside an ex-girlfriend’s flat, trying to send her bad vibes directly but her new boyfriend installed double-glazing
Subway sandwiches (“Give me it on Hearty Italian, please. I need to feel SOMETHING”)
The barber shop (what? Maybe they just had shit to do, they’ve been busy, areas with bad phone reception and they wanted to get their haircut. God, what is this? The Spanish Inquisition now?)

But yeah RIP again. Patrick Bateman and I (eee-eyyyeeeeee) will always love you.

Comedy Theory: Debating Myq Kaplan

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 16:29:19 -0500

jonaspolsky:

by Jonas Polsky

For the most part, my long-winded dissertations on comedy go unchallenged, but that changed this week when from my ivory tower I heard the faint cries of dissent. I was disgusted by a New York Times article on joke writing (http://goo.gl/n3SPw) that promoted subjecting audiences to half-finished material.

The subject of that article, comedian Myq Kaplan, contacted me to discuss my accusations of ”Audience Torture” (http://goo.gl/meSnv). Here is our lengthy conversation, exactly as it occurred.

(This conversation is being recorded for quality assurance purposes.)

Jonas: Mr. Kaplan, you have the floor.

Myq: Jonas, thanks for having me.

Before we get started, or I suppose this could actually be us starting if you like, may I ask you if you are a stand-up comic and if so, how long have you been doing it for and where? Or if not, can you tell me the extent of your experience with stand-up?

Jonas: Yes, I am a comic, I’ve been performing stand up for around eleven years. About three years ago I changed my focus to comedy writing, and although I perform stand up from time to time, I would classify myself as a comedy writer.

Read More

Reasons for this stain on my shirt

Fri, 09 Mar 2012 13:59:09 -0500

Just got to work, noticed a tea stain on my shirt from the cuppa I picked up on the way. Pretty sure that explanation would suffice, but just to make sure, here are some back-ups:

Bumping rails at lunch-time, passed out on the floor, floor must’ve had tea on it.
Some vacant hard-body, so lost in my eyes, spilled her tea on me as we bumped into each-other on the platform.
I was reading something I wrote earlier, a little ditty, and laughed so heartily that I spat tea all up myself.
My teat is lactating milky Rosie Lea.

Celebrity Emoticons

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 14:55:00 -0500

Inspired by the hilarious ”Important New Emoticons” by Mira Ptacin and Seth Fried over at McSweeney’s, here are my own VERY IMPORTANT CELEB EMOTICONS.

P.-)

The Long John Silver emoticon

C:]>

The Happy Lucifer Wearing a Beanie emoticon

J:-)

The Alex Turner of Arctic Monkeys circa 2011 emoticon

Q:o)

The Annoying Conceptual Artist Who Wore Beret and Whom Everyone Knew of For, Like, Three Months emoticon

:o)—P

The Michael Fassbender in “Shame” With His Penis Out emoticon

<X (

The William Shakespeare Died on His Birthday, Let Us Never Forget emoticon

:-§

The Ron Swanson emoticon

:-I

The Mario Balotelli Goal Celebration emoticon

#Kony2012

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 09:22:00 -0500

The last thing I’ll say about Kony 2012: great cause, questionable integrity/priorities of the charitable organisation. Find another way to donate, raise money; don’t just blindly give Invisible Children all of your hard-earned JSA.

Reasons for calling in sick

Wed, 07 Mar 2012 07:52:56 -0500

It happens (unless you’re my employer reading this). Here are some examples which you are free to “borrow”:

Can’t come in because Joseph Kony is outside and you heard he’s angry.
Can’t come in because you have polio and… what do you mean they’ve got a cure for that now?
Can’t come in because there’s a CSI: Miami marathon on and what if someone is found dead in the office, covered in semen? Who will solve the case?
Can’t come in because this coke you was doing (I mean, “DRINKING”) has given you the wicked shits.

RIP Davy Jones (1945-2012)

Wed, 29 Feb 2012 13:56:00 -0500

Such a shame, he had a great head of hair.

tyleroakley: A glimpse into my future. Life is tough in the...

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 11:52:18 -0500

tyleroakley:

A glimpse into my future.

Life is tough in the M(LS).

Seth Rogen needs to get the Oscars gig next year before they...

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 03:08:50 -0500

Seth Rogen needs to get the Oscars gig next year before they give it to some other nearly dead guy like Gene Wilder or Billy Zane.

Host Seth Rogen Kicks of the 2012 Spirit Awards (by filmindependent)

second-impact: キング　カップヌードル　KING CUP NOODLE

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 02:53:27 -0500

second-impact:

キング　カップヌードル　KING CUP NOODLE

Photo

Tue, 28 Feb 2012 02:49:07 -0500

A seagull took my sailor hat.

Mon, 27 Feb 2012 16:30:08 -0500

A seagull took my sailor hat.

Sam Diss

New Diets for 2013 (pt1)

Unintentionally Quaint Rap Lyrics

TWITTER IN Q3 2012: DISS-PATCHES FROM THE FRONT LINE

22 Tips to Enjoying London (Ultimate, un-Expanded Edition)

Words that can shit off

Frustrating Nature of Language

What to buy with $100bil (Haps Bday, Mark Zucks)

Interns run the world

Where DO lonely hearts go?

Comedy Theory: Debating Myq Kaplan

Reasons for this stain on my shirt

Celebrity Emoticons

#Kony2012

Reasons for calling in sick

RIP Davy Jones (1945-2012)

tyleroakley: A glimpse into my future. Life is tough in the...

Seth Rogen needs to get the Oscars gig next year before they...

second-impact: キング カップヌードル KING CUP NOODLE

Photo

A seagull took my sailor hat.

second-impact: キング　カップヌードル　KING CUP NOODLE