Monthly Archives: December 2011

Picking the Perfect Tree

Merry Christmas fellow Rubbeites (I don’t know what to call ya yet… I’m working on it…) By now, you all have already probably torn all your gift wrappings to shreds and created a mini-Armageddon under your Christmas tree, and so in all honesty it’s WAAAAY too late to put all the things I’m about to tell you to good use, but there’s always next year.
After years of observing other people select and erect their great symbols of Christmas cheer, otherwise known as the coveted Christmas tree, I’ve noticed a little bit of a problem. Some people pick out the worst Christmas trees. I see them on the hoods of cars riding down the street, and I wonder how they EVER are going to decorate it. So, in the spirit of giving, I’ve decided to offer some tips on making your next tree-decision the best in your life.

  1. Avoid the “Charlie Brown” Tree


Ya, I know, that Christmas special is a classic. It teaches the true meaning of Christmas. But I’m sorry to say, the meaning of Christmas is not to get a withering, dying, tiny tree with 4 branches that can’t hold even the smallest ornament without toppling the whole thing over. It doesn’t look “cute” and there certainly is nothing redeeming about it. I mean, what the heck is Santa supposed to fit under there, a few candy canes? This brings me to my next point:

  1. Bottom Ring Radius (or BRR)

When your BRR is too low, you'll have to cut into your beautiful tree to make space for presents. Even drawing this hurt me a little.


This is a little statistic I literally JUST created, but I think it is an extremely important aspect to a good tree. Allow me to explain: BRR is, basically, the amount of space left under the base of the tree, measured by the circumference of the bottom-most ring of branches of the tree (oooor something like that). Why is this important? Well, it’s very simple really. The more space there is under the tree, the more gifts Santa can fit, and the happier everyone will be on Christmas morning. It means more wrapped boxes, bigger train sets, and all that good stuff! So yeah, BRR is pretty important. Obviously, the bigger the tree, the higher the BRR will be, but sometimes you’ll just have to compromise depending on your height requirements.

  1. Symmetry


This seems like a relatively obvious thing, but this has to be the one offense people commit the most. There is absolutely nothing worse than having a tree that looks like it got into a horrible accident with a buzz saw, and therefore looks as 3-dimensional as a piece of paper. Sure, there are plenty of ways to cover it up, like putting it in a corner and decorating the good side, but that’s just plain wrong. And, if you DID try to decorate it as a whole, it’d be an absolute nightmare. Just trying to wrap tinsel and lights around that thing will drive you insane, and it won’t look that good either. Most importantly, however, a non-symmetrical tree effectively cuts your BRR in half! Half the tree, half the gifts.

So there you have it; three of the most important things to getting a good tree, and, ultimately, more presents! Now, if you messed up this year and made one of these mistakes, don’t worry; I’ve heard that Santa’s a pretty forgiving guy. Just leave him some milk and cookies, and he’ll do his absolute best to work with all of your lacking BRR.

Gabriel Otero

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Baby, It’s Rapey Inside

Today, we’ll be taking one of the holiday’s most beloved songs and really taking a closer look. Now, here’s a song people choose to sing often. You hear it on the radio throughout winter. Even school children are taught this song. Baby, It’s Cold Outside, the hit single by Frank Loesser (notice the last name here…) is filled with some lovable notes, and some really lovable notes. So here it is, for your inspection, The Rubbe’s interpretation of…

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

I really can’t stay – Baby it’s cold outside
I’ve got to go away – Baby it’s cold outside
Okay, here we start with two people. One is telling the other that he/she has to go home. The other is not listening, and repeating the obvious. For reasons, I am going to say the first is a girl and the second is a boy.

This evening has been – Been hoping that you’d drop in
So very nice – I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice
So in these lines she’s ready to go home, but he’s not having that.

My mother will start to worry – Beautiful, what’s your hurry
My father will be pacing the floor – Listen to the fireplace roar
She’s telling him that her mother and father are going to be looking for her. She’s letting him know that whatever happens tonight, he won’t get away with it.

So really I’d better scurry – Beautiful, please don’t hurry
Well Maybe just a half a drink more – Put some music on while I pour
Now here, she’s obviously developing pity. “Maybe he’ll leave me alone if I comply,” she thinks to herself.

The neighbors might think – Baby, it’s bad out there
Say, what’s in this drink – No cabs to be had out there
And suddenly we know what kind of night we’re heading for. He’s put something in her drink. It’s caused her to forget what she was going to say about her neighbors. This is horrible…

I wish I knew how – Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell – I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell
She’s been roofied. Or something worse. She’s starting to develop some kind of Stockholm syndrome. Poor woman. Off with her hat, and now he’s a little more comfortable. 

I ought to say no, no, no, sir – Mind if I move a little closer
At least I’m gonna say that I tried – What’s the sense in hurting my pride
She knows she should fight, but the roofies aren’t letting her, and he’s slowly painting the scene.

I really can’t stay – Baby don’t hold out
Ahh, but it’s cold outside
Baby don’t hold out? Oh, fuck.

C’mon baby I simply must go – Baby, it’s cold outside
The answer is no – Ooh baby, it’s cold outside
She’s trying to fight back. Now he’s back to stating the obvious; telling her that it’d be ridiculous to leave since she’d freeze… He’s trying to say there’s no hope.

This welcome has been – I’m lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm — Look out the window at that storm
“Why would you want to leave my cozy house?” he says. “Look at that weather. It’s better to be here, where I can rape you.”

My sister will be suspicious – Gosh, your lips look so delicious
My brother will be there at the door – Waves upon a tropical shore
Again she tries to let him know that someone is bound to be looking for her.

My maiden aunt’s mind is vicious – Ooh, your lips are delicious
Well maybe just a half a drink more – Never such a blizzard before
He’s taking advantage of her fragile state and has tried to kiss her.

I’ve got to go home – Oh, baby, you’ll freeze out there
Say, lend me a coat – It’s up to your knees out there
She’s trying to explain that with a coat she’ll be fine. But this guy just won’t let her go. “It’s me or the storm, baby.”

You’ve really been grand – Your eyes are like starlight now
But don’t you see – How can you do this thing to me
Now he’s blaming her. “You make me crazy! Don’t you see? I need you now!” This guy is a monster…

There’s bound to be talk tomorrow – Think of my life long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied – If you caught pneumonia and died
Now he’s trying to make her feel guilty. “If something bad happened to you, I’d be devastated! Do you want that on my conscience?”

I really can’t stay – Get over that hold out
Ahh, but it’s cold outside
One last attempt to stop the crazy rapist.

Baby it’s cold outside Brr its cold… It’s cold out there -Cant you stay awhile longer baby?
Well… I really shouldn’t… alright – Make it worth your while baby.
This poor woman.

Ahh, do that again…
Now here at the end, we don’t know who’s talking. But we can safely assume it’s him, and he’s just raped her. Let’s hope he used a rubber.

As you can see, Loesser (Yes, that’s his name) has dropped some…subtle hints from deep,deep into his head. But wait! That’s not all. According to the world’s most infamous source of information (Wikipedia), this song was never meant to be a Christmas song. Gee, I wonder why. And even more disturbing is the fact that this song was originally performed by Loesser and his wife, who claimed that it was their song. She was furious when Loesser sold it, first appearing in Neptune’s Daughter, where a mouse and wolf perform the song. From the get go, Loesser intended the song to be sung by a mouse(female) and a wolf(male). Even in our dearest childhood memories, The Muppet Show, Miss Piggy takes the wolf role and sings it to Kermit.

Yes, that's a whip in her hands...

Next time you’re sitting around the fire with your family and decide to spread some holiday cheer, think twice before pulling out Baby It’s Cold Outside.

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The NingTengdo Gui

My mother approached me this afternoon, leaning on the doorway while I was on the computer. I looked up and she proceeded to tell me a funny story. This is translated from Spanish, except the words that aren’t Spanish, like gui. Those I keep the same.

Mother: Your cousin is getting a gui for Christmas.

Me: A what?

Mother: A gui.

Me: Gui? What’s that?

Mother: Ay, you know. A gui! With the controls that go pio pio and make you move around.

Me: A Wii?

Mother: Yeah, a gui.

Me: No, not a “gui”, a Wii.

Mother: A gui.

Me: Wii.

Mother: Gui!

Me: Wii!

Mother: Gui!

Me: Okay, repeat after me. Woo-ie

Mother: Goo-ie.

Me: No, Wah sound. Wah. Wii.

Mother: Wah….Wah….Gwua…Gui?

Me: Yes, perfect. Gui.

She almost had it at the end there. Somewhere in the middle, she says it all low and relaxed. Gui. My mama, she so funny. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a Gui, something like a game console built out of guava pastries. Mmm, guava.

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Would You Rather Wednesday #1

In an attempt to be lazy and write less, I’ve decided to have a weekly “Would You Rather” question.

This week’s question:

Would you rather find your significant other cheating on you with an elf or find out that they’ve been kidnapped by Santa Claus (In which case, I’m not sure you’d ever see them again)?

Share your answers below!

*Credit to mah brother for helping me draw!

OR

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Pa-Pa-Pa Poke Her Face

One of the more useless functions on Facebook is the “poke” feature. What exactly does this do, besides annoy the living crap out of people? “Teehee, I virtually poked you.”

No, you didn’t.

I’m sitting at my desk right now, completely poke-free. I don’t know you who think you poked, but it wasn’t me. I have no splitting pain in my side and unless you’re some invisible entity, you sure as hell didn’t poke me.

There’s a higher chance that I poked myself.

And the poking wars! Well, I hate having notifications stuck in the upper right hand corner of my homepage, so of course I unintentionally encourage this idiotic behavior. Until someone finally forgets, the pokes are generally endless.

I’m damn tired of it. Next time you poke me, I’m camping outside your house in the nearest bush and waiting for you to step out. I’m going to tackle you to the ground, Facebook Poker, and finally give you all the pokes you deserve.

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Eulogy for a Best Friend

I’m not really sure what to say. I’ve never had to write one of these before. I really miss you… It’s been a month already, but I still can’t stop thinking about you.

You were always there when I needed you, as long as I could find you. You never said
anything bad, you never complained, just did the only thing you knew how to do.

Looking back on it, I’ve realized you actually lived a long, healthy life. It’s a shame it
ended so abruptly, and I have no one but myself to blame.

In a fit of rage, thanks to a devastating New York Giants loss to the Eagles, I grabbed
a hold of you, and threw you straight across the room. Just like that, you, my favorite little
backscratcher, were gone forever.

I was left, scared and alone, having to pick up your shattered wooden remains from all
over the bedroom floor. I couldn’t afford to give you a proper burial, so I had to reluctantly
throw all of you in the garbage. To this day I haven’t replaced you.

How could I? You, the most reliable itch reliever in all the known world, personally
handed down to me from my father, a sacred Otero heirloom? It’s simply unthinkable.

I’ll admit, just the other day I was looking through some at the local dollar store. None
of them can compare to you. They’re all either shaped like some crazy animal with claws that
scratch you, or they’re too blunt to relieve even the smallest itch. You were the perfect tool; no
complicated design, all form and function.

That’s what I’ll miss the most about you: your simplicity, your elegance, and your
eagerness to perform your carpenter given duty. I grew up knowing that, whenever I called on
you, you would scratch my back and I wouldn’t have to scratch yours. And now you’re nothing
but a memory.

So, I want to take this opportunity to say my last goodbye, and let you know that I
honestly did not mean for what happened to happen. But deep down, I know you knew that to be
true.

I know you’re out there, hopefully being recycled so you can live another fulfilling
wooden life, and I just want you to know that there will NEVER be another like you, but I think
you and I both know that.

-With great remorse and sincerity, Your greatest friend,

Gabe

If only he knew....

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DON’T PANIC

I live at school. During Christmas break, I come home and bring most of my junk with me, especially the things that need to be washed (an early Christmas present for my darling mother). However, I do, from time to time, take trips back to my dorm, as I did this exceptionally fateful day.

Okay, maybe fateful is a tad over dramatic.

Well, I was having myself a nice chat with the boyfriend over the interspace and he tells me he’d be right over. Cue this face:

Mushroom cloud of trepidation.

Why? Because I stink. Not a problem! You say. Just take a shower. That’s what I thought too. I grabbed some articles of clothing and went my merry way when I stopped cold. I forgot to bring a towel. My roommate was sleeping. I could have stolen her towel, but that’s just so wrong. What else could I do? Air dry? No, that would take too long. So then, what’s just as good as towels?

Paper towels.

Naked, I dashed into the living room, grabbed the towels and ran back into the bathroom. All right, let’s do this! La, la, la, la, la! In the shower! All’s good. I step out, rip off a piece of paper towel, and start dabbin’ myself. One paper towel soaked. Two paper towels soaked. Three. Four. Five! Oh gawd, too many paper towels. I’m way too eco-friendly for this. As I stood there, naked and cold, I had a great idea!

I’ll use the door! So I opened the door, made sure everyone was still sleeping, and then started swinging it back and forth between my hands. Sure, the burst of air was freezing, but tell you what. It got the job done. In a strange way. And, so as to please your hypothetical side, I have included a diagram of what that may have looked like, should you have been the unlucky bastard looking down the hall.

Notice the shower cap. Hot, huh?

Was I dry? Indeed. Was it weird? Quite. Mission accomplished? Verily! I slipped on some undergarments and for the next 15 minutes, chilled in mah undies. Turned on the tube, flipped through the channels a bit, enjoyed my new-found faux-naturel state…

And then the air came on.

Always know where your towel is.

-Douglas Adams

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Passive Aggressive Notes to Roommates #1

My roommates tend to slip up when it comes to cleaning. One in particular always leaves a mess of toothpaste all over the sink. Looks like a minty rainfall. The mirrors over the sink rarely escape the toothpaste splatter as well. Needless to say, I wasn’t diggin’ it, but I didn’t want to confront them and seem like the bad guy. Hence, the birth of this post-it:

Our mirrors double as vanities...

I put it up right before bed; that way, they’d see it first thing in the morning, right? Well, when I woke up, the note was gone. I looked around a bit and found it in the trash bin, crumpled half-assedly. I rewrote it and stuck that mofo right back up.

The sinks look a little better.

As for the dishes…That’s another story. I’m the main dishwasher. I’ll wash whatever’s in the sink. Only one of my three roommates washes her own plates and nothing else. The other two simply forget while walking past the radioactive monster lurking in our kitchen sink or just don’t like washing dishes.

So I wrote a note to put over the sink.

It got a lot of laughs, maybe a couple of washed dishes, but alas! The task will always be mine…

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Dear Dude

Dear Dude from High School I had a crush on who decided I wasn’t good enough,

I saw you the other day working at Film Depot. You looked good! For a balding 25 year old. Yeah… I saw that. Funny how you tried to hide it by letting your hair get long. How you could have possibly come up with that solution is beyond me. Oh, and the beat up 1984 Volkswagen golf? Classic touch. Real.. retro… Ugh, sorry, excuse me. I almost barfed writing that line.

Hey! I was wondering about that Alternative Rock band you had been trying to put together. Yeah, how’s that going? Oh, still in its Garage band phase? Oh, totally, I know how that goes. It hasn’t really taken off. Still trying to find your sound after all these years. Dude, that’s rough.

Wait a sec! How’s that babe you totally ignored me for? Remember the one with the rockin’ body? Man, she was hot! Oh, she’s a porn star now? She left you because she didn’t get your music? Harsh, bro. Was it the inquisitive artist’s soul that confused her, or just the fact that you started working at a movie stop right after high school after promising her she’d get to star in your ‘way awesome’ music video? Man, women. They just don’t get the life of a poor musician. Of course it’s not all rockin’ out and partyin’ on. It was her, huh? She stopped the creative flow. Good thing you got rid of her.

But I bet you’ve got your own place now, yeah? Living in a cool bachelor pad with a bitchin’ view? Oh, at your mom’s house? She’s making you sleep on the couch!? What the hell, man? Doesn’t she understand that a grown man has to have his own room? She shouldn’t just expect you to get out when family members are around! How embarrassing, dude. Not cool.

Well, I’ll let you get back to stocking those totally awesome movies. Good luck with ‘Flying High’. Oh, you changed the name of your band? Now it’s ‘Just Get Drunk’? Oh, dude, please, you’re totally going to go places.

Peace out,
That girl who “just wasn’t what you were looking for”

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