« March 2009 | Main | December 2009 »
Most of you are probably familiar with my last fake Craig's List post. You know, the one where the LAPD tracked me down at work and accused me of baby trafficking? Well, that one set a pretty high bar that I likely won't ever clear. But this one is a good attempt! So, here's the link. Since it'll probably get taken down in like 5 minutes, I'll post the picture too (click to enlarge).
In the rare event that I do get arrested, please send all checks to 72andSunny c/o Matt Heath Bail Fund.
This website is a gift from God. Perfect for people who hate reading.
So, I thought I was super clever when I "invented" the Super Shocker (pictured above) at work the other day. It's like the regular shocker, only with way more shock (ie. fingers). After a few days of making jokes about it, I looked if up on Urban Dictionary and, sure enough, some other asshole already had the brilliant idea. So, Rob Teague and I took it to the next level...
World, I give you: The Mega Shocker!
That's fuckin' right. The Mega Shocker is just like the Super Shocker, only performed by two guys. Now, I know what you're probably thinking, "But, Matt, why do you want to perform the Mega Shocker with another guy?" Good question. The answer is: I don't. Which is why I also invented the Shock-a-Trois! (pictured below)
Yes, the Shock-a-Trois can only be performed by a male and a female. To protect the identity of the girl in this picture, I will refer to her as "Shmonica." Now I bet you're probably thinking, "But, Matt, why are you thinking of things like this while you're at work?" Good question. The answer is: My job rules and I'm drinking beer at my desk.
Well, there you have it. Perform the Shocker trilogy at your own risk. These are still in their beta phase and have yet to be tested on humans... or anything, really. But if you happen to get a chance to use one of these, make her call you Matt. God bless.
I forgot to show this when it went live. Jay and I wrote and designed it. Follow the link and check it out. Lots of fun stuff on there.
I love good ideas. And this is one I wish I'd had first.
Well, I’ve done it. I fuckin’ did it, everybody! After 29 years of unrelenting dedication and an unwavering commitment to my craft I can honestly say, without fear of sounding braggadocios, I have perfected the art of fucking up. I am the Michael Jordan, the Tiger Woods, of fucking up. When I die, a statue will be erected to commemorate my fuck up-edness with a plaque that will read:
Matt Heath: The personification of all things asshole, the patriarch of the world’s retarded masses will hereby be honored as a legend, nay, a deity in the realm of really really dumb mistake making with this fucking statue. Flock to this place of stupid sanctity and worship oh ye of imperfection. But look not unto this sacred vessel with thoughts of transcendence, for ye will surely never attain the truly dumbfounding level of failure so immortalized by this statue’s inspiration. Make donation checks payable to the Kids Who Are Constantly Asked, “WTF Were You Thinking?” Foundation in Memory of Matt Heath.
I think you get the point. I’m a pro. Fessional. And about 75% of times I do something dumb, I get away with it. But it’s that other 25%, the mistakes that bite me in the balls, that I cannot handle. What are those mistakes you ask? Those are the times I accidentally park where I'm not supposed to. And who is there to make me pay, every single time I fuck up? Yep, the mother fucking parking “police.” That’s right, if I park just a little too far into the red zone, or fail to curb my wheels at the appropriated angle, those nefarious little bitches will notice. And they will fine the shit out of me. In fact, they’ve done so two times in the past two weeks. God damn it.
Despite my prior post about the PP, I like to think that I’m a pretty objective person. I can usually separate my emotions from situations before passing judgment. But I cannot forgive the sneaky, vindictive little assholes who willingly work as Parking “Police.” They are sub-human. They are the worst of the worst. They are mean-spirited and vindictive with a splash of narcissism. I hate them. And I also hate people who are friends with them, just because I can.
And just to prove my point, I’m bringing you a Feeding Friendsy first. I went out and actually interviewed a real Parking “Policeman.” That’s right, I wanted to get to know the man behind that little ticket computer thing. The following is a transcript of my interview with the enemy.
MATT: Ok, please state your name and profession for our readers.
PP: I’m not gonna say my whole name. But my first name is Don and I’m a Parking Enforcement Officer (PFE) for LA County.
MATT: Why won’t you say your whole name, Don?
DON: We’re instructed not to by our department head.
MATT: Yeah, but why?
DON: Well… I suppose it’s out of fear of retaliation. We’re not the most loved profession.
MATT: No, you’re not. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t suppressing a wealth of welling rage right now. Are you a sneaky person outside of work, Don?
DON: What?
MATT: Were you drawn to being a Parking Nazi because you secretly like making other people miserable?
DON: Excuse me?!
MATT: Does putting the boot on a vehicle arouse you sexually? I bet it does.
DON: Does it WHAT?
MATT: Yeah, have you ever masturbated in your little cart after booting someone’s car as you fantasize about the utter anguish and frustration they’re about to feel all because you noticed their registration was a month expired?
DON: GOOD LORD!
MATT: Do you have a running tally of the tickets you’ve written scratched into the head board of the bunk beds you sleep in at your mother’s house Don?! How many? How many cars have you gotten towed? I know you know!
DON: This interview is over! Fuck you!
MATT: No, Don, FUCK YOU! You are everything that is wrong with this world! You are the purveyor of parking sadness! You are a sick little man and you stand for everything evil and petty!
Don leaves the coffee shop, knocking over a chair in his haste.
MATT: (Yelling after Don) Have a good life ruining other people’s! You suck!
Well, there you have it folks. I think my point has been proven. I think there’s only one way to do away with parking “Police,” and that is to sharpen your parking skills. If we can all just remember to double check our parking situations, there will be no need for the Parking “Police” and we’ll be free of their oppressive stranglehold on our expendable income. So, please, do it for me. Do it for you. Do it just because there’s nothing more satisfying that imagining a Parking “Policeman” getting fired because he’s failed to reach his ticket quota. Revenge is so sweet...
So, we've had a creative team from Sweden visiting 72andSunny. As I understand it, they're part of a program that sends ad students to other countries for three-week blitzkrieg internships at agencies of their choosing. And these two chose us. They kept a blog of their little party-crashing ad-venture (I fucking love puns. Suck it.) It's a cool outside look at the US ad industry, and American culture in general. Plus, they interviewed me. Check it here. (note the position of my hands in the photo... unintentionally dope.)
