The Paris Hilton effect

Lately I've come to realize two things. The first is that my left ear is slightly smaller than the right. The second is that if enough people tell you someone is good looking, you mindlessly believe it. Let me give you some examples.

Our first witness is Drew Berrymore. Movies like Charlies Angels have led us to believe that she is, in fact, a beautiful woman. She is, in fact, not. Look at her closely with fresh eyes and you'll see exactly what I mean. She's a million times less attractive than a lot of people I go to school with, on and on the hollywood ladder she's the guy on the ground making sure the hot people don't fall off the top.

Our second witness is Angelina Jolie. She's starved herself to death, she's like 4'9" and so many people are convinced she's gorgeous that even the intelligent readers of our blog will believe it. She's gone from meh to terrifying. That creature in Beowulf with the fucked up skin was way sexier than she is in real life. Brad Pitt, I hope you kept Jennifer Annistans number you crazy fucker.

Our third witness is every man in a TV show, movie, or play. King of queens, for example. That guy is hardly a catch. His wife however, is quite attractive, albeit annoying. There's no chance in hell he could snag that ass in real life, and we all know it. How about Everybody Loves Raymond? Seinfeld? You think George can actually pull all that tail? No chance. No chance at all. Fame = attractive for men, Gossip = attractive for women.

So that's my beef. If you're famous and ugly, stop casting yourself beside attractive people and stick to the ugly fuckers you belong with.

UPDATE: Jeremy Clarkson, a British celebrity, has brought up a likely contender for this theory: Sarah Jessica Parker. In fact, he compared her to a boiled horse. He was using her as a metaphor for an ugly Ferrari, but nonetheless, I've been proven right again.

Things I didn't know about trees

So as some of you already know, I have a job. I went for two entire months, living in my parents house, without earning a dime for the entire half of a summer. That's impressive and you had better acknowledge it because that's some straight up awesome shit.

So anyways, I work for a company called ArborCare. You may have seen their huge ass trucks driving around, with cranes a flying on the roof and leaf chippers a bouncin behind. They're pretty epic, and have giant maple leaf graphics on them, so if you remember a giant leaf-adorned truck, it's because you saw it and suppressed the memory. Now, my position with the company is one of those positions that sounds better than it is: I'm the Ground Crew assistant to the certified Arborist. What this means is while someone is up in a bucket with a chainsaw, I stand below them with a hardhat on and put 300 pound tree branches through a chipper after dragging them around. I also saw down little branches with what is essentially a saw on a stick. Sometimes I climb, but I usually get in trouble for it, and the wood beetles bite a lot.

So that's my job. Come visit me on Memorial Drive, we're trimming all the way up to 52nd.

Graph. Click to enlarge.

The profound-ness of dirty jobs

How amazing is the show dirty jobs? Let me tell you.

It's more amazing than the Eifel tower is steel. It's more amazing than Mulroney's son is a political failure. It's more amazing than Don Cherry is a snappy dresser. It's more amazing than Family guy is badly animated. It's more amazing than Nike SB is a poser branch of a poser company. It's more amazing than Andrea Bocelli is blind.

Anyways, dirty jobs is amazing. I'll elaborate later.