bring da ruckus

ain't nothin' to f-k with

wu-tang clan @ the congress

wu-tang hand sign at right: check plus.

not to be confused with =w= sign

rivers' =w= sign execution: check plus.

fans’ hand sign execution: mixed.

lazy fingers? check minus

left circle: lazy! "throw your hands in air and wave 'em like you just don't care" is a lyric! not a lifestyle. check minus. right circle: that is how it is done. check plus. i also note it appears you have sold your left pinky. check plus plus.

i know this is all very confusing, but if there is one takeaway, know that you should never do this:

yikes!

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holiday round-up

new year’s resolutions:

All my New Year resolutions basically come down to “Try to be somebody else.”
:: Michael Ian Black ::

autocorrect failure:

M: dinner monday night?

D1: myra!

D1 [moments later]: that was a weird [iphone] autocorrect. i meant to say ‘yes!’.

autocorrect [delayed] success:

D2 [on vacation]: what’s your address?

me: [my address]. i am now expecting a husky puppy in the mail!

D2: ok , btr.   u giyd habe got a postcrd.   dckig. postsrd vcimmimg rnway!!

D2 [two days later]: just saw this – sorry.  translation (i think): you’ve got a postcard coming your way.

me: literal, delayed “auto”correct!

i don’t celebrate christmas much, but i’m all about giving — to myself. i have gifted myself a domain name: http://www.cinnamontwists.net. look at me, learning internet! go ahead and click. experience an impossibly fast URL redirect right back to where you started. side note: cinnamontwists.com costs $1545 per year! i am aZn so i know how to save for rainy days when i need a dotcom URL. i put myself on a 30-year plan, $1 a week.

my sister, though, celebrates christmas and admirably. she gave me one of my best presents ever: an advent calendar!

christmas in a box!

from december 1 to 25, i started each morning in chicago, aspen, and the OC with a lovely little surprise, ranging from a pigs mini-calendar (two of my loves in one) to christmas socks, to chocolate. especially helpful for the holidays when without work or school, it typically takes me more than thirty seconds of hard thought to remember what day it is.

D1 found some less affordable giftables. items highlighted below may be given to people who celebrate both or may simply be added to my growing “things to explore once i am less indebted” list. side note: when i settle into an airplane seat, i toss in my last moves in words with friends, set “airplane mode” on my phone, and then i peruse sky mall like it is my job. i love the hammacher schlemmer catalog. it is the home of dreams & crazy & ideas every guy you know swears he had ten years ago.

i) the jetlev

D1: "remember when George Michael got ahold of one of these on Arrested Development?"

ii) the flying car

D1: "for a meager $350k."

iii) pet umbrella

aka the thing that i could make with mine own hands yet probably couldn't even sell to the human hand pictured.

the christmas doughnut tradition continues: five years and going strong! photo evidence of D3 taking a painful(ly delicious?) bite below:

mmm...donut.

you can’t quite tell, but know that in this superskillfully photoshopped photo, D3 is ingesting a piece of a petrified doughnut. born five years ago at Old Firm, the christmas doughnut has traveled near and far and currently resides in austin. each year, my dear ex-coworkers get together to take a bite. the whole is not pictured, but D3 describes, “Just picture a donut broken into about 5 pieces with lots of half inch diameter cubes lying around, and that’s this donut.” presumably, it is dry and rock hard (like its wit and will to survive), but still delectable as ever, right, D3?

auf wiedersehen, 2011!

The Best And Worst Of Everything In 2011: A Mega, Meta Mashup brought to you by fast company:

We hacked through dozens of year-end lists–and, yes, checked them twice–to bring you our curated best and worst of 2011. Here’s the mother of all roundups that you will find online, offline, and everywhere else. Each line is taken from those other year-end lists.

2011, Buh-Bye! brought to you by JibJab:

From Charlie Sheen’s #winning tweets to the debt ceiling crisis and global protests, it seems the whole world went nuts in 2011. Join us as we reminisce about the most notorious moments of the year in our 7th annual year in review… this time sung by a popsicle stick puppet choir!

song of the year, m83’s midnight city…

…made hilarious by dave seger:

kim jong-il round-up

highlights from team america:

so ronery:

king jong-il looking at things:

rooking at rice

kim jong un looking at things

looking at food and crazy dad

kim jong-il’s obituary if it had been written by kim jong-il:

via happyplace

 

“Kim Jong-Un Privately Doubting He’s Crazy Enough To Run North Korea”

“Obviously, I know I was handpicked because I’m super crazy,” said Kim, the youngest of the late 69-year-old dictator’s four known children. “But my father was just so great at what he did. Did you know the people of North Korea heard his voice exactly once, for like five seconds? How nuts is that? Honestly, I look at stuff like that and I think, ‘Wow, there’s just no way I can ever top Dad.'”

“We’re talking about a world-class nutjob here,” he added.

Kim told reporters that since emerging as the presumptive next-in-line to lead North Korea, he had spent countless hours trying to come up with his own brand of craziness that would honor the tradition set forth by his father and grandfather, Kim Il-sung, but would also set him apart. After discovering that many of his best ideas had already been taken by his father—including making citizens bow toward wall-sized portraits of himself or claiming to be a demigod whose moods directly influence the weather—Kim admitted he had grown frustrated.

“At this point, I’m not sure what’s left for me to do, really,” he said. “I mean, according to the Ministry of Information, Dad hit 11 holes-in-one the first time he ever played golf. I’m dead serious. Dad had never even picked up a golf club before, and he hit 38 under par. Where am I supposed to go from there? I guess I can say I ran a marathon in 20 minutes, but isn’t that pretty much the same thing?”

“It is the same thing, isn’t it?” Kim added. “Ugh.”

(via the onion)

and on a serious note …

As you already know, Kim Jong Kardashian died while fighting a USA-made Godzilla robot on the North Korea border over the weekend and the entire country took to the streets to publicly melt down over the loss of their leader…Since the crazy is all these people have known their entire lives, this seems pretty authentic to me, which is a whole new level of scary.

…North Korea is a fucked-up place where their former leader commanded intense worship from his people or they were sent to special camps, sometimes for life. And we’re not talking Parent Trap-type summer camps (although they might have held an hourly showing of I Know Who Killed Me as a torture method), so this grief is probably real. Or they’re crying out of happiness that the muthafucka is in a box.

Someone liberate these bitches, and explain to them that his insane ass had nothing to do with inventing awesome things like peanut butter.

(via dlisted)

on a truly serious note:

To many, the plot seemed absurd. The hero was improbable, with Babygro zipped-up suits stretched over his pot belly, oversized sunglasses, platform shoes and bouffant hair, all adding precious height and heft to his five feet two inches. For years, too, he was invisible: not seen by the world until the 1970s, improbably taking English lessons from Dom Mintoff in Malta, and never heard in North Korea until he came briefly to the microphone, at a parade in 1992, to cry “Glory to the heroic soldiers!” Yet since the 1960s he had been a feared force in his father’s Propaganda and Agitation Department: eliminating internal rivals, possibly plotting foreign assassinations (the Korean Air bombing of 1987, in which 115 died, and the Rangoon bombing of 1983, killing three South Korean ministers, were both attributed to him), building up the cult of his father in statues and birthday celebrations and, incidentally, stoking high the cult of himself.

Sun and fog

That fairytale film began with his birth, in 1942 in a log cabin frosted with February snow at a revolutionary training camp on holy Mount Paektu: his coming foretold by a swallow, accompanied by a double rainbow and a new star in the heavens. (His actual birth, in Russia’s Far East a year earlier, was dull and forgotten.) He learned to walk in three weeks, to talk in eight; he wrote six operas and 1,500 books while a student at Kim Il Sung University, and scored five holes-in-one in his first game of golf. Apart from being “the greatest writer who ever lived” and “greatest musical genius”, he was, by diktat, the Glorious General from Heaven, the Guiding Star of the 21st Century, and more than 200 other things. His bad temper could shake buildings; his cheerier moods could melt ice; and on a visit to South Korea fog shrouded him to keep him safe from snipers.

His death, too, might well have been scripted by himself: on one of his beloved trains (he feared flying), as he visited his people to offer “on-the-spot guidance”, while a snowstorm paused, and the holy mountain of his birth glowed red with the rising Sun. “Forgive me,” he once said to Shin, as he half-heartedly apologised for kidnapping and imprisoning him. “I was playing a role.” To the bitter end.

(via the economist)

a noted poison pen, part iii

Public brawling – however entertaining – merely confirms the collective wisdom of the great unwashed that hedge funds are a bunch of irresponsible cowboys.

Greg Newton of Naked Shorts (via nytimes)

(via insidermonkey): “In 2005, Daniel Loeb was upset about Ken Griffin’s poaching key employees from New York hedge funds. To be fair, Ken Griffin managed to convince fund investors to foot all of the expenses and he charged 8.75 percentage points in management fees in 2005. On top of that, Citadel collects a 20 percent incentive fee. As a result, Griffin was able to pay key talented employees more than New York hedge funds were. Daniel Loeb didn’t take this lightly and sent the following letter to Ken Griffin:

Dear Ken,

I understand that you recently hired an employee of Greenlight and have also attempted to hire Third Point employees in the past. I think Andrew made a horrible decision based upon discussions that I have had with numerous former and current Citadel employees/ indentured servants.

I find the disconnect between your self-proclaimed “good to great, Jim Collins-esque” organization and the reality of the gulag you created quite laughable. You are surrounded by sycophants, but even you must know that the people who work for despise and resent you. I assume you know this because I have read the employment agreements that you make people sign.

I understand your need to hire employees from other firms, something that Third Point has not had to do based on the fact that, unlike yourself, I actually enjoy and have talent in investing and am able to nurture others within my organization whom I hire from wide ranging disciplines such as graduate schools, private equity firms and medicine.

Let me be clear that, under no circumstances, are you to approach any Third Point employees or attempt to offer them jobs. First of all, like Brad Radoff, who you poached from me some years ago, you do not even know how to manage people who invest. He has happily returned to the Third Point fold and is doing extremely well.

Secondly, those that you have approached know the low regard in which I hold you and your over-rated firm, and they are happy to meet with you and report back to me the sorry state of affairs over there and your desperate attempts to replicate our success.

My warning extends to any attempt you may make to hire employees of my friends in the event-driven space: should you attempt to hire people from them, I will consider it a similar act of war. My friends enemies become my enemies.

Good luck extracting exorbitant management fees and generating mediocre returns with your bloated organization and ego. By the way, there is little I enjoy as much as watching from afar as your reputation and “organization” declines at the same rate as your falling returns.

source: wilmott forums

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