Tagline: Reject normal.

Found at Wanda Kamarga (Flickr)
Creative director : Hendra Lesmono
Art director : Andreas Junus & Irawandhani Kamarga
Copywriter : Darrick Subrata
Photgrapher : Anton Ismael
Agency : Bates 141

I also love this short video, illustrated by Patrick as well.

It was produced in 1995 by my good friend Jochen Neumann and was narrated by some Scottish lad which he met at the University of Flensburg (Germany).

It gets pretty technical sometimes, but it also shows some rather cool pictures/views of the island and explains some — to strangers — interesting facts about the “Frisian Riviera”. And you just gotta love the scottish accent!

 
Jan de Nul, the belgium company which did the contract work in ’95 (and the following years) and to which Jochen sold the vid in 1995 is the same company that did the famous Palm Island II in Dubai and is now in the process pumping up the Dubai Waterfront islands.

Actually that video should rather be called “a gift” — I can not tell you for how much it was sold to JDN, but believe me, selling an iPod to a teen is a bigger deal. But what do the Scots say, “a puir man is fain o little”.

• Copyright/produced by JFN Video
• Narrated by Gavin Hodgkinson
• Happy Birthday Client: Jan De Nul

 
Btw: Watching “the show” every year is why & how i came up with the word “Beachlevel” — one of my year-round hibernating projects.

Usually that's no big deal if your warranty is still alive and kicking, but I had two deaths to mourn for; not only the logic board passed away, but also the warranty looked terribly cold and stiff — and I could not find any replacement programs covering my ass either.

So I called the local Apple Solution Expert store (ASE) hoping they could help me somehow, but they had no Apple policy handy to help me out but charge me €700 for a fix.

Invest €700 into a five year old iMac? I beg your pardon, but that sounds riscy, even to a hobo-style real life approacher like me.

After calling ASE again to find out that I am eligible for education discount I was spending the rest of my shift browsing the magnificent new unibody options I had if I would risc another visa card deal-with-the-devil.

But something felt wrong. Something was missing. I had the weirdest feeling that placing an order right now would be not right. One of those moments, you know.

When I returned home I thought “give it at least another shot, you little winer” — so I called Apple directly, not the folks at my ASE store. After about 20 minutes on hold I was catapulted back onto my floor, heads first: “Thank you for your patience, but I'm sorry to say that my supervisor won't give his okay for a replacement...”

Oh fuck! Well, at least I've tried everything I could. God-fucking-damnit!

“...but I can offer you a repair ticket free of charge, Mr. Martensen.”

Wait. A. Minute. What? — “What does that mean? You will repair it free of charge but I have to pay for the logic board? That would still charge me €600 though, that's too much.”

“I’m sorry, no: The logic board would be free as well, I just can't give you a new replacement iMac.”

You probably won't believe this, but I had tears of joy rolling down my cheeks. A free repair! For an old iMac who had his logic board replaced two times already and is totally way off the warranty coast! A free repair was all I hoping for and that support girl even tried to get me a new replacement iMac — sometimes you just gotta be lucky.

Thank you Apple.

Anyway, this cracked me up:

As soon as i started to work as a janitor at my current job 3 years ago, life went downhill. My skills are not appreciated, i am totally underpayed and my boss acts like a effin’ nutcase — most of the time.

I don’t really know why i am still working here, probably because the job in general is not too bad: Most of the time i am my own boss and the job never gets boring. I do have a lot of freedom, working with kids in our hostel is fun and sometimes i can work from my own appartement when i do network and website stuff. And it is a job here on the island, the place i love more than anything in the world.

But since i am so motherfucking underpayed for what i do, i collected a good amount of debt on my credit cards. Actually i do not have a problem with debt, well — if the debt is worth the hassle of giving up a little bit freedom. For instance, i went to Canada two times for two seasons of snowboarding without a penny in cash. Of cause i gave up a huge chunk of freedom for that, because it took years to pay that back to the credit card company. But believe me, it was worth it!

But now i am in the same debt like i was after 2 seasons in Canada, but for what? I tell you, for having a bloody job! So here’s what i did: I abused my cc’s for what i have earned less than before every month: I used to work at the beach for 10 years where i’ve earned about 1500 € in cash, now i do work even more as before and i only earn about 1000 € in cash every month. Splendid.

And since i am in debt again, i feel like i am not free do to and go where i want. Bad timing, because i feel like life is yelling for some actions by me, loud as the fog horn on the Queen Elisabeth II. So what are my chances? Should i try and win the lottery? Should i try to rob a bank? I am usually full of great ideas when it comes to solve those problems for other people, but right now i feel empty like a belly full of water. If you got 5000 euros you urgently want to get rid of, I am your man — and besides, my “Rich Journey” deal is still up for grabs as well!

It felt good to write this down though.

Maybe i should not listen to my parents and stop worrying about those few thousands i owe the bank. It‘s just money i don’t have, right? Just stuff i owe some corporation. It’s not that i made anyone suffer because of that, right? It’s just a deal. Riiight?

9: Coming into the office, I’m jazzed. I log in, check my email, read the news, check a bunch of blogs where people who aren’t as smart as I think I am rant on and on about how Bush stole Ohio and Social Security is going to cause everyone to die at fifty and think that anyone actually cares about Dean v. Rosenberg.

10: Coffee! Go out, walk down the street, get a cup, and by the time I get back, it’s almost 11, which means…

11: Plan for lunch! Get out the menus I’ve got in my desk and fantasize about the food I can have at the many reasonably priced, easily-walkable lunch establishments in downtown San Francisco! After a bit of that, I’m ready for

12: Lunch “hour.” An “hour” gives you fifteen minutes of leeway on either side. The Lunch Choice Of The Day will probably involve Moo Goo Gai Pan or a 2/3 LB Monster Bacon Butter Cheese Human Lard Plus Thickburger, Topped With Whipped Cream and Deep Fried or (if I’m really unlucky), Subway sandwiches that suck so much even that alien cyborg Jared Fogle couldn’t eat them and lost weight. I go to Subway; it’s close.

1: Still at lunch “hour.” Done with eating, spending time at the table at Subway watching all of the really hot advertising chicks who would only talk to me if I threatened their mothers with a garrotte, and only then if they’d get a new handbag out of the deal.

1:20: Back to the office, time to check on the news in case anything happened in the late morning (Hey, Rudy T is quitting the Lakers!). Then it’s food coma. Sit at my desk clicking the mouse every few seconds to shift between programs, trying to make the windows somehow make a pattern as interesting as the screen saver I used to get stoned to back in college when I were supposed to be doing term papers. All that education is getting a workout now!

2: Still food coma. It’s about now that I should probably get some actual “work” done. Nothing like some cover sheet composition and printer paper jams to pass the time.

2:30: Ah, a post-lunch dump with a couple of printouts from ESPN.com. Bliss.

2:45 Oh no.

2:50 Christ, no.

2:55: It’s almost here, shit. Finally, I get off the toilet just in time for…

3:00 THE INFINITE HOUR. Time grinds to a halt. It’s too early to think about leaving, the food is gone from your stomach, you can’t leave for a coffee break because you spent so much time on the can earlier and someone would notice.

3:05: Are you kidding? Frantically scan the best-of-craigslist for something entertaining, only to find that Craig only updates the damned thing every few weeks.

3:09: Homestar Runner hasn’t updated either, Shit.

3:10:25 Check email. The send/receive button seems to be broken.

3:15-3:20 Fantasize about what the world would be like if 3:00 could just be skipped.

3:20:38: Check email. Apparently my penis is too small, and these guys want to help!

3:25: Start revenge fantasies. If 3:00 were a person. Shit, it *is* a person. 3:00 is that little pimply-faced fuck who *everybody* hated in elementary school; not because he was a nerd (the nerds kicked him out), but because he was a little bastard. That fuckhead tattled on everyone, made fun of the geeks for their subpar transformers collection, insulted the big guys for having too much earwax, tried to make girls touch his private regions during square dancing, and (to top it off), sucked at kickball. He’d be standing there insulting everyone while teams were chosen, and both captains would look at 3:00 for five long minutes and eventually embark on a best-of-11 rock-paper-scissors match to see who would have to take the little fucker. Then he’d kick into double plays, drop the bouncy red balls, pick his nose and wipe it on other people, and once he even pooed his pants. At age ten! What an ass.

3:30: That rant only lasted five minutes? 3:00 must die.

3:32:41 Check email. Nothing.

3:35: Think about ambushing 3:00 before the work day tomorrow and kicking the shit out of it. I can see the headline in the Chronicle: “Anthropomorphized time period assaulted. Suspect busted out of the pen by cheering crowd of cubicle slaves.”

3:38:12: Write email, realize I have nothing to say. I swear, hit send/receive, and watch the blue Outlook bar cross the screen.

3:38:18: Hey, that was fun! I do that five more times.

3:40: Drank three straight cups of water–going back and forth to the cooler is fun!

3:45: Watching the clock on my desktop. Resetting it to atomic time over and over doesn’t make it go any faster.

3:48:19: Check email. I qualify for a home loan! Even though my name is misspelled!

3:50: Cutting fingernails down to the quick and using the clippings to write things into my arm. I end up with marks that make me look like a heroin addict who can’t get his shit together.

3:52: Oh, dear God, end this hell now. Somebody post a funny blog entry or let a natural disaster strike somewhere or let George Bush say something stupid or anything at all. I hate my computer and I hate my co-workers and if that stupid fuck from Siebel calls again to help me maximize my sales potential I will hunt down his children and turn them into a poorly done, first-try-is-just-for practice taxidermy project.

3:53:01: Check email. That’s it, I’m hiring mercenaries, invading Nigeria, and stringing every banker in the place together by the balls, coating them in honey, and dropping them naked into a polar bear refuge in Siberia.

3:53:09: Check email. Nothing. I hate all of my friends.

3:54: The phone rings. It’s the guy from Siebel, wanting to “follow up” on a couple of “action items.” I’ll “action” his “items” right back up his smirking, job-security-having ass, until he has to sit backward to attempt to impregnate his wife. I won’t even try to explain that one. Figure it out.

3:56: I’m a puddle. I resolve to get hit by a car every day at 2:57 to avoid the 3:00 hour.

3:56:01.8: Check email. My dick just gets smaller, apparently.

3:57: I don’t even bother praying to God any more. It’s obvious He hates me, and invented the human race for his sick sport. Otherwise He would have made the day 23 hours, instead of 24. I pray to Satan instead, offering to become a serial killer and harvest souls for His Dark Majesty if He’ll only make the next three minutes go by at any semblance of normal speed.

3:58: Satan doesn’t answer. That cheap fuck.

3:59: Attempt to pass out. Fail.

3:59:21: Check email. Nothing

3:59:29: Check email. Nothing

3:59:31: Open up the clock icon in Windows and watch the second hand go by. I swear the programmers made it like those clocks in elementary school that tick *back* before they tick forward. I hate Microsoft. They’d be the first souls I’d harvest for Satan if the Prince of Darkness wasn’t such a cheap fuck.

4:00: I slump to my desk, exhausted, wrung out from the weeklong hour that just passed. In celebration, coffee!

4:15: The guy at the coffee place has huge dark circles under his eyes. I wonder what the Infinite Hour did to him?

4:30: Ah, coffee buzz. Peeing all the time because of all the water I drank earlier.

5:00: What? What happened? I’ve got a few things to do before…

Via Dorkmuffin.

Video: Motherfucking cocksuckers

Again via Dorkmuffin.

If you are into animation, make sure you don’t miss this one.

Rest in fucking peace, you old wise fart.

Hot-librarian-loves-the-cock — U gotta love the Urban dictionary!

“A doctor's wife becomes the only person with the ability to see in a town where everyone is struck with a mysterious case of sudden blindness.”

I find sudden blindness more horrifying than zombies or “snakes on a motherfucking plane”. Here are the first 5 minutes:

 
More “minutes” available.

Great t-shirt by Topatoco!

It has almost replaced the word 'mate', often used in Australia to refer to people in a conversation when they can't be bothered trying to remember your name. Here are two examples:

Sick Aussie Cunt: Sup cunt?
American feminist: I find that insulting!
Sick Aussie Cunt: Piss off.
 
Sick Aussie Cunt 1: Sup cunt?
Sick Aussie Cunt 2: Nothing much, cunt.
 
Via Urban dictionary.

One more thing

Totally unrelated, but did you know that Kate Hudson is the daughter of Goldie Hawn? I mean, that’s bad news, right?

And today they’ve presented a new “design” and logo as well. When i heard about that on Twitter my first thought was “maybe they managed to make that little apple inside of their logo look even better”. But nopes, that’s TUAW style, what do you expect. Nooo, they tried to completely redesign the logo, the apple is gone! They added a stupid leaf on top of their name, roughly a mile above it to make it look even more silly. By the way: Aren’t there enough leaf inspired logos popping up already lately?

I bet they did not even realize about their apple silhouette inside of their logo! Anyway, it is not really that hard to spot: just have a look between the A & the W.