Way back when this here blog was in its infancy, I offered a podcast recommendation — my only one to date — for Uhh Yeah Dude, an hour-long comedic show that I’ve found to be wildly addicting. Part of the pull has to do with the two hosts’ conversational idiosyncrasies. Emphasizing the wrong syllables of words and names is big (just ask Lady GuhGAH), as is giving out Jonathan’s actual cell phone number whenever he says something that could be construed as offensive. But my favorite quirk of all pops up when a train of thought has reached its absurd terminus, and laughter or ridiculousness renders the two hosts speechless. In those moments, either Seth or Jonathan will often squeeze out a beleaguered…
“I can’t. I just… I can’t.”
It’s their way of waving the white flag when something is just too much. This rhetorical device never fails to make me smile, because being happily overwhelmed — whether it’s by laughter, joy, relief or something else entirely — is one of the best sensations a person can have, and it just so happens to be the way my brain reacts when I watch The Trillions.
Some Tuesdays are just too flippin’ sweet. When too many records I’m excited about get released in one day, I don’t know what to do — I get all overwhelmed and can’t figure out where to look or what to listen to. Come to think of it, the same thing happens when I walk into a sports bar. Hm…
This past Tuesday was one of those loaded release days, and because I haven’t done a Read It Later Roulette post in a while (Pocket had the nerve to change Read It Later’s name and ruin the gimmick), I thought I’d change things up and spend a few turns bouncing from one release to the next in the inaugural game of Release Day Roulette.
Let’s spin the wheel!
Would you punch me in the face if I started yet another post by bragging about a weekend beach trip? Go ahead… I deserve it :/
On Friday evening, Mrs. YHT and I absconded to Nags Head, NC, where a few friends had rented a cozy little cottage — the kind that has gently warped floorboards and makes you feel like life is much simpler than you regularly perceive it to be. After a late night Michael Jackson/Girl Talk dance party and a Saturday afternoon spent battling a windy beach and the most violent non-hurricane ocean conditions I can remember seeing in the Outer Banks, we settled in for a low-key game night.
OK, so “low-key” probably isn’t the right word to use when you’re playing Cards Against Humanity. This was my second time playing the game, which can best be described as Apples to Apples‘ louder, hilariously evil twin. Here’s how it works: when it’s your turn, you draw a black prompt card, on which an incomplete sentence is printed. The rest of the players try complete that sentence with one of their white cards, on which appear a variety of (often offensive) phrases, and you get to pick the one you like best. A quick example, using actual cards from the game…
“The class field trip was completely ruined by ______.”
- “Racially-biased SAT questions”
- “Another goddamn vampire movie”
- “Waking up half naked in a Denny’s parking lot”
- “Sarah Palin.”
(For the record, I’d probably choose “Sarah Palin,” with “Another goddamn vampire movie” coming in a close second.)
The whole thing is a fascinating exercise in subjectivity and context. Black cards establish the parameters, white cards provide evocative specificity, and each player’s unique bias acts as a bridge between the two. Together, all three work hand-in-hand to form a complete and meaningful thought — I swear it’s funnier than I’m making it sound — and strangely enough, thinking about this process helped me understand why I love Cat Power’s new song “Manhattan” so much.