Episode 6: Conspantasy



– Hal plans a halloween party.

– A golf club you can pee into: http://www.uroclub.com

– Do women really need pants?

This Just In:
All though President Obama’s bid to hold the 2016 olympics in Chicago was denied by the Olympics committee, the Special Olympics committee eagerly offered to hold their annual event in the Windy City.  In response, Obama shuffled his feet and pretended not to hear them.

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  • Still in the midst of listening to this (23 minutes in). A comment about the facebooking Mom:

    I think I can totally relate to her caveat-filled Facebook-friend acceptance. I know a few people, of various belief systems, who have literally left Facebook because they got sick of politically-oriented commentary from their Facebook friends and relatives. I know Sara and I get sick of it, too, and I’m certain my own comments have offended various people.

    So I could totally see someone warning you: “well, just so you know, you might end up seeing me commenting to others, or them commenting to me, on stuff that will piss you off. Is that okay with you?” I think she’s just being conscientious (if maybe a little too much so).

    For my part, I think Facebook will be vastly, _vastly_ improved by the introduction of a comment-tagging system, and the ability to filter out certain tags, or something along those lines. I think it would do a lot to preserve, rather than to aggravate, relationships. 🙂

  • BTW, something I’ve been wondering about… since Facebook Police will necessarily be about a comment a friend of yours (or at least acquaintance) posted? Doesn’t that risk alienating your highest-potential listening audience? 😉

  • The uroclub is awesome. Not conspicuous at all. Heh, looks like he’s molesting his golf club.

    And, of course, simply holding a golf club still for about a minute would look a little weird. So to enhance the deception, you’d have to swing it around a bit, to throw people off (or yeah, like you guys said, “use it while you use it”). Except it’d surely throw your (*cough*) _aim_ off, too. And not just the aim for where the little white ball goes, either.