Put a Skip in Your Step Video

To kick-off the weekend we're going to start posting a music video that'll put a skip in your step as you bounce out the office door and head off to paint the town.



Have a great weekend Readers!

Your Friday Afternoon Rap Lyrics

Next Friday will be in Los Angeles for a wedding and there's no guarantee that we'll be near a computer, so today's Rap Lyrics reflect our future travels back to the land of our college years. Today's selection is from the vaunted wordsmith, The Notorious B.I.G., and his classic Going Back to Cali. It's a great song, but we've always been a bit confused by the lyrics in line eight.

Going back to Cali, strictly for the weather,
Women, and the weed -- sticky green
No seeds bitch please, Poppa ain't soft
Dead up in the Hood, ain't no love lost
Got me mixed up, you drunk them licks up
Mad cause I got my dick sucked...
If I got to choose a coast I got to choose the East
I live out there, so don't go there
But that don't mean a nigga can't rest in the West
See some nice breasts in the West
Smoke some nice sess in the West,
y'all niggaz is a mess

To Catch a Predator...in your office

When we're working, our minds are rarely actually on the task at hand. Instead we're usually thinking about who would win an office Royal Rumble, which decent female would moan the loudest, do the Cubs really have a chance at The Series, or what kind of sauce should we go with for our nuggets. Today we made up a new game -- who in the office is most likely to get busted on that show, "To Catch a Predator?" We created a checklist in our heads and spent the entire afternoon talking to ourselves in a British nature show host's accent, breaking down the competition.


After an exhaustive search, we settled on this guy. He works waaaaay down the hall from us, and we didn't even know his name was SDoug until today. He definitely has the classic look, doesn't he? We asked around and apparently, along with looking like a child molester, he steals pens from the supply closet, and regularly talks about a scheme to move the decimal place over one column to fuck with accounting and collect the change into his offshore bank account.

Get this, we doug (rim shot) deeper and found his band's MySpace page. Oh, man!!! We love The Series of Tubes so much.

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=408165940

Please click on this link and listen to the song...it's too good...our ribs hurt...

We're On Board

We've wanted to like him since the first time we heard him speak four years ago. We've wanted to feel all warm and fuzzy like everyone else does when they hear his speeches. We've wanted to like Barack Obama for a long time, and tonight was the first time we've been able to honestly say, we like him, we're in. We've been critical of him for not showing any cards to this point, but really did he have too? We've been critical of his timing, when really, there's nothing wrong with striking while the irons hot. Tonight, he could have mailed it in with a perfunctory pandering political-pep-rally (mmmm alliteration) speech that would play to the adoring crowd, but he layed it on the line. He called McCain's ass out, said he was Bush lite, rebuked him for questioning his patriotism, and challenged him to debate.

The No-Look, No-Catch is officially endorsing Obama for president...we're probably going to have to be interviewed by CSPAN now...fucking CSPAN!!!

Four Wheels of Fury

At least two of our faithful readers knew us in high school and will therefore no doubt remember the above car, or at least one that looked just like it. One of them in fact should have quite vivid memories of at least the miniature backseat design of this little Japanese beauty (damn we were limber back then). The above car is of course the vaunted 1989 Toyota Celica, and it is the same make, model and color as our very first car. We had just wrecked our dad's 1984 Renault Alliance, better known as Napoleon, after a motorcycle decided to play with fire and get in our way, and what do our parents do to reward our safe driving? They buy us the only car on the road smaller than Napoleon. We think it was $2,000.

It looked just like the one above only it was waaaaay cooler. Ours was much sportier. It had a rusty sunroof, some subtle racing strips over the rear wheels, and of course a foam spoiler we had attached after painting it with $2 black spray paint. It kicked serious ass!!!

Well today, when driving at lunch we saw the old bastard driving on a local highway. 19 years after rolling off some assembly line near Osaka, the Blue Bolt was still ripping up the streets of Central Texas. Spoiler still intact.

It was kind of like seeing that hot student teacher from third grade at the supermarket 15 years later. You remember the teacher, the one who caught you looking down her shirt in the produce section last year and then got all hot and bothered when you told her it hadn't been the first time you'd sneaked a peak. It was great to see it/her and you remember all the good times, but with all the body damage, discoloration, and a trunk that was much much bigger than you remember, you just couldn't help but feel a little sad.

Another NLNC Dramatic Production

The building is the headquarters of an international Product Portfolio Management software development company. The room is a corner office with an expansive view of a beautiful freeway overpass and a Linens and Things. Three men dressed in pleated pants discuss the future of the company. All three are drinking coffee, not from a disposable like the minions drink from, but rather a mug from home. One man's mug reads -- World's Greatest Dad. One man's mug reads -- I'd Rather be golfing. One man's mug reads -- The NLNC is Fucking My Trophy Wife.

Man #1: Profits were down in Q2, way down. What are we going to do?
Man #2: It's the economy. Every one's hurting these days.
Man #1: You're right! Damn you Bin Laden!!!
Man #3: No, the problem isn't the terrorists. We've all got our American Flag lapel pins on. We're immune.
Man #1: You're right, and we support the troops too, so that can't be it.
Man #2: If it's not the economy, what can it be?
Man #3: It's production, the proles are just not putting out the product like they were earlier in the year.
Man #1: How can we fix it? Can we just fire them all and hire some Mexicans?
Man #2: Yeah Mexicans!!!
Man #3: No you fools!!! We already have that temp that sleeps at his desk, we can't afford any more siestas.
Man #1: We have to think...think out...what's that fresh new term that they're using at all the MBA schools?
Man #2: Ooh, I know! THINK OUTSIDE THE BOX!!!
Man #1: Yes, think outside the box...I love it.
Man #3: Perhaps what the proles are lacking is proper motivation...
Man #1: Yes, we need to light a fire under them. Let's threaten their jobs.
Man #3: No, I mean we need to inspire them.
Man #2: We already have Hawaiian shirt day.
Man #3: What if we ordered a shit load of those motivational posters?
Man #1: You mean like the kind that have some fucking mountain on it...and the label AMBITION?
Man #3: Yes exactly. The proles love that kind of shit.
Man #2: I like where your head's at.
Man #1: This is going to be great!!! Number three, you get a raise.

Seriously, the company I'm working for got a huge-ass shipment of those ridiculous things today. Everywhere I looked minions were hanging up the black-bordered atrocities. So to honor their efforts, we're going to start putting some of our favorites up here on The NLNC. You know, to keep ya'll motivated to keep reading.

StErica is Back in the News

Apparently all the ganj is making StErica testy, because she's been killing us this week. Today she actually got upset with us for watching TV shows from our laptop instead of building some spreadsheet. Does she know who we are?!?! Maybe we should have had her speak with DRC to keep expectations down. But anyway, she got upset, we popped-off (that was a first), and she (kind of between the lines) told us to straighten-up or else. As much as we need this job for the next five weeks (before we take-off on our first NLNC field trip), if we were to get iced, this could potentially be a legendary exit. We've had some good ones, but we've never had an ace-in-the-hole like we do now, and by ace-in-the-whole, of course we mean -- our manager has never bought narcotics from us from their desk before. Just a hunch but there's probably something in the Employee Handbook about that...We might not wear pants for the rest of the week.

The Monday Ogle - Random Hottie in the Park

Oh Man!!! Her walk is nice, her jeans are tight, her bombs are BOMBS, and the little kiss at the end (from that beautiful face) is the kicker.

Farewell

Another Summer Olympic Games has now come and gone and we have to admit, we feel a little empty. It was a fortnight of true entertainment and it will be missed. (Now we go back to late nights of Bob Ross painting nature scenes with garden tools.)

With the vast majority of American athletes carrying themselves with pride and class, we found ourselves cheering on the good ol US of A more than we have in years, and it felt good.

Probably with little surprise, we again found ourselves drawn to the obscure sports--our favorites being team handball, kayaking, and weightlifting--but with Phelps, our two little gymnasts, and "The Redeem Team," we even got caught up in the big name sports too.

So thanks Olympics, you purveyor of thrilling competition, goodwill, artistic beauty, amazing feats of strength and speed, tears of joy, tears of disappointment, cultural enlightenment, and smoking fine Paraguayan javelin throwers.


To bid the games adieu, below is the long version of the spectacular Nike commercial for Team USA hoops. Thanks to the wonderful performances of our nations competitors, we find it fitting to play the best ever version of our National Anthem.



(When we first saw this commercial we went nuts. It combines perhaps our two favorite things -- basketball and African American soul singers. We've had Mr. Gaye's version of The Star Spangled Banner on our iTunes for years now, and it is one of our most played songs. We know it's the National Anthem and all, but we often just groove to it. DAMN!!! If anyone could claim more conquests than Chamberlain, it had to be Marvin Gaye. If we had been slutty white chicks back in the late 70's/early 80's we would have totally...)

Your Friday Afternoon Rap Lyrics

We're going to take a bit of a respite from the Friday Haikus. They'll probably come back at some point, but we're going to try a new way to poetically send you fine ladies and gentlemen into the weekend. In place of the Haikus, we'll be posting rap lyrics that we find both whimsical and inspiring. Today's selection is from the rapper Hell Rell and his opus, Paperboy.

And your bullets can't touch me, your words can't reach me.
I'm mista know-it-all, you niggas can't teach me.
I asked her if she fuckin or not, as soon as she read me.
She thought it was apple juice, but now she drinkin pee-pee.

Better watch your ass Thoreau.

Employees of the Month

Good morning NLNC family. We've told a few stories of our famous work ethic, or rather the lack thereof, and in case anyone repudiates our claims, and thinks that we've been making this stuff up, or that they're just a bunch of tall tales, we offer up the following evidence.


This is from the job we were working when the NLNC was born, and we can't really believe that someone took the time to write us a personalized letter that states each offense. Didn't they have a HR form letter somewhere. We apologize for it being so small but we've had a hell of a time trying to make it bigger, have given up, and will just write it out for you. It reads:

Dear No-Look,

Upon close review of your reader evaluations from your recent employment with DRC, we are unable to offer you future work. Your reading rate was below average, in addition to your unwillingness to adhere to the rubric and the fact that on more than one occasion you were sleeping on the job.

I wish you the best of luck in your search for future employment.

Sincerely,

Vicky Sherman
Human Resources Representative
Data Recognition Corporation



We're going to have it framed.

Hey Winning Isn't Everything

Our dream girl finished second to last in the Olympic Javelin. For some reason none of us seems to care.

The Fletch

We're not really certain as to the sex of these two wrestlers? But that's beside the point. We're just pumped to see the old Moooooon River move being brought out in Olympic competition. If performed correctly, it can't be stopped.

Public Enemy Number Four

A few months ago, when our blog here was but a young pup, we outlined our dislike for Cocky Computer Science Guy. He came in a close third in Guys we feel malice towards following Team Hair Gel and Softball Guy. (By the way Softball Guy currently sells software down the hallway from us at work, Red Bull bitches!!!) In case you missed it: http://thenolooknocatch.blogspot.com/2008/06/public-enemy-number-three.html, well we have recently discovered a new Guy, his name is Guy Who Likes to Sing Karaoke. Due to time constraints will call him Karaoke Guy.

Saturday night, after teaching SpArielle to tuck-n-roll and then kicking her to the curb, following the date from hell. We decided to go to a bar because it was still two hours till closing...she of-course had a curfew. Now the Canary Roost is a bar across the main thoroughfare from Mom's house, but we had never taken the plunge and gone in. It always seemed like the kind of neighborhood bar populated with mostly peroxide divorcees and sad insurance salesman types desperately trying to cheat on their obese, teased banged wives. But with nothing to do and the gas tank running on E, we, acting as Julius Caesar, crossed the Rubicon into the world of Karaoke.

We didn't know it was a Karaoke bar, but it didn't take long when we were greeted by a monotoned rendition of Free Bird sang by Hawaiian-shirt Larry. "Shit!!!"

After ordering a $2.75 gin and tonic, always the sign of quality, and surveying the patrons, we quickly learned that Mexicans love Karaoke. Eight out of ten people in there had a surname ending in z. Being a Karaoke virgin, and with the name and all, we figured Asians pretty much had a corner on the market but no.

We stayed for five songs, and if you'd have asked us to pick five songs that would be sung at a trash Karaoke bar prior to our adventure we probably would have gotten all five:

Freebird - Skynyrd
Some Nickleback thing
The Joker - Steve Miller
Simple Man - Skynyrd
Baby Got Back - Sir Mix-a-lot

Each was sung by a dude, or dudes, and what struck us the most was how prepared they were. Not only did they not need the words projected on the big screen, because they knew them all, but most of these gentleman had worked in some choreography. The two clowns that tag-teamed The Joker, worked in spins and (actually a pretty incredible) microphone toss. More than the showmanship, what drew the most ire from us however was the witty banter they through in to keep their adoring fans entertained. Because really, during guitar solos there's not a lot to do when there isn't an actual guitar. So these fucks were actually dropping lines like, "How ya'll doin tonight, don;t forget to tip your waitress...(eye wink)" and of course the eyes closed, fist clinched, "Oh yeah..." With his Blue Tooth ear piece blinking(because of course this fuck needs to be able to take all his Saturday night calls hands free), when Baby Got Back Guy got upset after the "white boys" failed to "shout" loud enough for his liking, we lost it and had to go.

If you've sung Karaoke before, and it wasn't while being held at gun point by the Khmer Rouge, then please stop reading this blog.

The OM Plan

The day Freshman move out of the house and into their dorm is often a reason for parents to cry and for students and colleges (especially ones that charge 47 grand a year) to cheer. 

But cry not mom and dad, for I have found the purpose for all your spending. Education? No. Friends? Wrong again. BLONDES? Hell Yes! 

You can start calling me the new OM because I'm on the eight year plan.