Dear Subway,

We've had some good times together, haven't we? Who could forget the time when we first met? I asked you for turkey, you smiled, laughed and asked "Toasted?" Blushing, I accepted your offer. I ignored the warning signs, that things were moving a little too fast. I mean...toasting? On our first date? I couldn't help myself, it just felt so right. You asked me "What else?" and oh, sweet sweet Subway, you showed me a bevy of options...green bell peppers, spinach, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes and oh so much more. I thought This could be the one. I watched as you seductively squirted mayonaise and mustard onto the goopey, melty cheese that was the symbol of our love. You're a lady, Subway, and you didn't want to give it all up on our first meeting...you didn't give me all the lettuce I wanted, but I understood.

Over the years, things started getting more serious. You knew that you had to keep things interesting or I'd get bored so you introduced things like new breads and those little breakfastey things that I never ate because you know I'm not a morning person. I knew I could count on you and you knew you could count on me.

But we've had our bad times, too. I know it's been years and you swear it meant nothing to you, but what you did with Jared...it's hard to regain trust after something like that. Still, we tried. We went to couples therapy, we even took a break to see other people. I know it must've hurt to see me with Quizno's all those times...I know it must've hurt because when I came back there you were. With Jared. I'll never forget that night outside your apartment when I stood there in the rain watching you and Jared's silhouettes in the sweet embrace of sandwiching.

Against my better judgement, against everything in my head that told me Just walk away, Phildo. Walk away before it's too late and you're damaged forever...we decided to give it one last go.

To show me you were willing to make the effort, you said you'd only charge me $5 for a foot-long sandwich. You knew exactly what buttons to push to get me back. At the time it seemed too good to be true. I mean, five dollars? You didn't even do that for Jared. You moved in down the street; I mean we weren't really sure if we were ready to move in together after our break, and I'd come over most nights. Things were really turning around.

Then...with no explanation, you changed. No more five dollar foot long turkey sandwiches? I asked you why, you were cold and distant. You started trying to make me buy weird combinations of things like pepperoni and meatballs; the Subway I fell in love with and worked so hard to stay with for all these years just wasn't the same.

Today when I came over, though, you did something I never expected you to do...you told me I could only have 16 pickles. What's worse, it wasn't even you who told me. You had your friend tell me. Shocked, I didn't know what to say. I asked if you were around but Pita told me you didn't want to talk about it. Sixteen pickles. All these years together and in the end it came down to sixteen miserable little pickles.
You really woke me up today Subway. Breaking up is never easy but this isn't exactly the first time we've done this dance, is it? I mean you can't even have the decency to tell me face-to-face that you don't want me to have your pickles anymore? I'd say this was a tough decision to make, but you kind of made it for me. I know the lease is up on your place soon so I'd appreciate it if you didn't renew it. I think it'll be best if we just never see each other again. I'll always have fond memories of our time together; the early days that is. Meanwhile, go to hell you miserable bitch.

With regret,
Phildo

P.S. - I debated as to whether or not to tell you something so...intimate...but I'm going to do it because I want you to hurt like I do. Quizno's? Oh yeah, Quizno's and me are getting back together. Because she has a full pickle bar. All. You. Can. Eat.

This post was guest illustrated by The 21st Century Mrs. Be sure and click her name to check out her hilarious musings and secret dance parties. 

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So some redneck strapped a camera to a dog's head and was all "Hey dog go jump in the water and get me a dead water fowl!" And the dog obliged. This is literally the most boring video I'll ever post. But I'm posting it because you're all hungover anyway. Plus if I posted the video I made with the camera strapped to my head it'd just be me rinsing out my fleshlight and combing Ninja Cat relentlessly.



Here's something that might make up for it.

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I've always been a fan of The Daily Show. I almost never watch it because...I just don't watch a lot of "current" shows. Nonetheless, I caught this clip of Jon Stewart working through his emotions on the subject of the Tuscon shooting of Representative Giffords and 19 other people, leaving six dead.

Jon - thank you for being a voice of reason.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Arizona Shootings Reaction
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog</a> The Daily Show on Facebook

*note - If you're a developer, take a look at the code for that video embed...isn't that the sloppiest code you've ever seen??

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How did I miss three days worth of posts?

OH that's right because it's been...y'know what. No excuses. Here's a video or something. It's actually a pretty cool time lapse shot of New York City. So yeah.

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I fucking love these infographic things. It's like the same guy makes all of them. And then makes me a sammich and pats me on the bottom in that sort of camaraderie building way and then if I respond positively to it then he'll cup my cheek a little bit next time and before I know it he's examining my prostate and oh my god am I having a flashback to tee ball?

So yes. Here's an infographic from those fucking morons over at Gizmodo (I'm too lazy to link to them so here's all kind of credit and pats on the legal backs for them: "Yay!") that depicts something. I honestly don't even know anymore. I need to bleach my anus...

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So I missed a day. You get a double dose today. Pfft.

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In the words of Gerardo Mejîa, "Bust A Cap In 'Em."

It's day two of the new year and I'm gonna keep up my promise of blogging something every day. At this point I have no clue what today will hold, so this son'bitch is just a placeholder until I come up with something monstrously radical to post later.

That's right...monstrously radical.

Boobs.

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At the beginning of last year I made a proclamation that 2010 would change my life. Out of all the things I thought would happen last year, from me making a magabillion dollars (that's totally a real number) to me winning the baby lottery and getting my own show on TLC, the one thing I didn't think would really ever happen to me...did.

I don't often delve deep into personal matters here but I'm feeling extremely thankful today because of the one most important thing that did happen to me last year...I met the woman of my dreams, and...seriously...get this...somehow I convinced her to fall in love with me.

I had pretty much resigned myself to a life of misanthropy and being generally unloved as a result of said misanthropy....and then, out of nowhere came the one I'd always waited for.

So there ya go, Internet. I'm starting off 2010 on a positive note, happy and in love and wishing everyone a successful decade...and let's just hope that the 2000's don't end up looking like the 80's in hindsight.

Oh yeah and I didn't forget my resolution - this is day 1 folks. Keep on coming back!*






*HA. Nobody comes here.

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I was going through a derelict image folder just now and found this screengrab...this guy has been around since the internet was just a place that AOL wiped its ass with. Wonder whatever happened to him. Its sardonic motherfuckers like him that helped build this playground we all call "the net."

Ha. Who calls it "the net?"

Fags.

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I was going through the archives here at the Updog Space Station and I came across a peculiar finding...I have about 50 half-finished or unpublished posts. Yikes!

Ever since declaring my intentions of publishing something to this godforsaken wannabe blog every day of 2011, I've been toying with the idea to have some "features," or what you might call "columns" in the real world of bonafide journalism/print media. Since we're operating under the illusion that people actually read this nonsense, I'm going to lay it all out there, put it all on the line, spread that eagle...? Anyway...here's what I'm thinking for the columns (inspired by Twitter's daily memes):

• Movie Mondays - I watch a lot of movies. I'm going to bitch, moan and complain about them on Mondays.
• Tentative Tuesdays - I'm going to finish a previously unfinished post and then post that shit, yo.
• Weird Wednesdays - Whatever the hell I want to post about. It's my fucking website.
• Thoughtful Thursdays - Awww...feelings.
• Fried Fridays - After a long week, sometimes what you need is a good cocktail. I'm going to drink it and then write about it.

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So. 2010 is almost over. Don't you worry your little heads though, my Year In Review is forthcoming (no, seriously). Before we get to all that good stuff I wanted to take a second and share my one resolution for 2011 - the one thing that I will not fail at.

In 2010 I have gone the whole year without a cigarette. If you knew me as a smoker (and ever went to a bar with me) you know how significant of a change that is. I went cold turkey, a show of willpower that the Phildo brand is not often associated with. So, emboldened by my accomplishment, I am going to undertake an unprecedented leap forward in 2011.

I am going to post something to this blog every single day of 2011. That's right. Like it or not. Content. Comin' atcha. Even if it's just some shitty video or picture like my last 8 million posts have been, I'm putting something up here.

Now that that's out in the open, don't be surprised if you see some changes in the look and feel of the place. 2011 is the year that this blog moves from "shitty blog that nobody reads" to "shitty blog that about 100 people read." You heard it here first, folks.

Whatever you decide to be resolute about in 2011, best of luck to you - don't join a gym though. You'll quit going. And don't start a new diet program. You'll just fall off the wagon after 10 pounds.

God...I'm so motivational, aren't I?

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Well folks (me). It's me (me) again. I have work tonight but I can't sleep so I thought I'd wake up and see what's going on on the interwebs. Most unsurprisingly, jack shit is going on (name dropper). It's funny, when you put stuff out there on the internet, it's [theoretically] there to stay. In this modern day and age any fat guy with a collection of pocketed sweatpants (and really, who doesn't LOVE sweatpants with a back pocket for liquor store runs?) can, in a sense, accomplish what the great authors of history have had to toil for.

For fuck's sake, the godawful Jason Chen at Gizmodo (too lazy to link...but you know where the fuck Gizmodo is) posts some of the most dreadfully awful commentary that I've ever read ANYWHERE. Annnnnd yet - thousands of page clicks a day. Look at their site stats on Technorati. It's ridiculous. Writing...it used to be about connection. Look at the greats - Thomas Hardy, Alexander Dumas, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and if you're hipster enough, Kerouac. These guys are so well known that my spell checker doesn't even flag them as a problem. But there used to be a connection. People used to read not just to learn, but to share in experiences. And these men, these masters (in more than a few cases there are some female masters, too), they saw the human experience so clearly...the futility of trying to escape your reality while simultaneously realizing that you can still change who you are...their message is eternal. It doesn't matter what century you were born in - these greats write prose that speaks to generation after generation.

I'm as guilty as Chen (though with a better vocabulary and, I think, a better cadence to my writing) because I mostly publish mental masturbation material - throwaway writing (that nobody reads). Although my site stats have indicated that I've picked up something of a following in the Ukraine! So...holla to my Ukranian brothas from another motha and sistas from anotha mista!

Yes, I publish a blog. Yes, I blurt out quick spurts of information. But I work hard to make contributions to fucking literature, yo. That's the eternal conversation. Sure you can read it on your Kindle or iPad or Poopbox or whatever, but the point is - and my hope is - that books never die. The masters of history, the masters who through the gift of storytelling have reminded us of the human condition; those are the ones we should seek to emulate, or to at least learn from.

Enlightenment can be a pain - and it kills as many as it saves, but we owe it to ourselves to discover something outside what we know. I joke a lot about having no readers, and the stats indicate that most of you click a link and then drop out, which saddens me, but alas - I'm here to stay.

Take a moment. Put down your Blackberry/iPhone/Buttfacephone whatever. Turn off your Google Talk account. Log out of Facebook. Read this short story by the one and only man who I ever looked up to, F. Scott Fitzerald.

I know you won't. But think about it. Here's the link. I won't tell you anything more than it is a piece of prose that possesses such powerful imagery and such vivid character that...well. Let's just say it's worth it.

On a final note, I wish that J.D. Salinger had been publicly psychoanalyzed. From "Franny and Zooey" (another great short story) to his seminal work "The Catcher In the Rye," homeboy clearly explored his subconscious in a very personal and intimate way.

That's what I hope to do. Hopefully you and I can connect. Hopefully we'll share a random experience together and the world will...for once....seem a lot smaller. In the age of Chatroulette where you can see everything from random penises to disappointed men waiting for something other than random penises, we've lost our connection. The human experience is digitized - I say we go analog. I say we live together. We experience things together. The more that write about what's right...the better. There are few voices left that are not tainted by commercialism, let your voice be heard, let your voice be heard for free...that's what this is all about - in a world full of people yelling for attention, let us be silent and listen. Our fellow (wo)man will teach us about ourselves if we have the patience to listen, the forethought to learn and the determination to proceed.

If you do read this, whether Ukranian or otherwise, I deeply appreciate that you even slightly care what I have to say. I realize I'm just a voice in the ether (although, if I may brag....the 32,000th most read blog online), and maybe my voice means nothing to you, or something. But thank you. Thank you for enabling me to realize where I need to open up, and thank you for not reading or reading. This is, after all, my blog. So anyone else who comes is a welcome guest to a very real party. For now, I'm off to read some more Fitzgerald and hopefully grab some more sleep.

Nobody may love you, everyone may love you. You must first love yourself.

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Sorry I'm swearing so much today.

Not really, I guess.

Anyway, someone asked* me recently "so how do I comment on a post? I don't get it!" Well. I'm glad you asked, chemo-sabi (yeah, I know, poor taste right?).

There's two ways to put your thoughts onto my thoughts so we can make a thought sandwich:

1. See that little speech bubble above the post? The one with the big fat ZERO in it? You can click that. It'll take you to the actual post's page, where there's a nifty little comment box.
2. At the bottom of every post, there's a little "Read More" link. I don't know why it's there in every post - I'm not quite proficient enough in HTML to find what I did to make it that way, though I work tirelessly around the clock to figure it out. It's only supposed to be there when I want to entice you to actually read more of something - as a result, I get the feeling a lot of my posts that actually have more content after the "Read More" link don't get read. For this I can only offer you all a piece of my first born child. That's what people do to atone, right? Anyfuckingway if you click the "Read More" link it takes you to the post's page and...viola! Itsa baby boy! Or it's the comment box.

So comment. Converse. Interact. Please. We need to talk.

*Nobody actually asked that. I just really want you guys** to comment.
**There are no "you guys." I'm the only one that reads this, unless I'm at your house making you read this. In which case, I could probably use another beer.

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So I'm supposed to be this fucking writer, right? I mean I claim to be. I tell people "Oh yeah I have a blog," and then I turn around and go off on rants about how stupid the people of today are, how largely useless the internet is and how bloggers aren't real writers. Sure, I've been published twice, so I've got my writer's SAG card, if you will, but what the fuck am I contributing to the ongoing conversation? Why the fuck do you read this?

Hopefully because you enjoy it. Hopefully because, like me, you see that we too often don't realize all the things we claim to hate make up tiny bits of who we are. Hopefully because I make you laugh or make you think. More than likely its because I come to your house and MAKE you read it.

What am I trying to say here? Fuck if I know. Thanks, I guess. Keep coming, or don't. Its your life. I'm going to keep on doing this as long as I have thoughts to put out there - and I'm never going to write a bunch of books. I say that, because if I say that I will then we all know I won't. This is a blog of broken promises, of mockery, of sardonic observation and, oddly enough, about hope. Hope that if we all stopped talking long enough to listen, we might just learn something.

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But seriously folks. I can't get this fucking song out of my head.

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Today I will write about nothing.

Except that in so doing, I'm writing about something. Assuming that nothing is in fact something.

You can probably see why I contemplated not writing. Since I'm of no use to society on this day, I'll just waste all of our time and list some things that I'm currently digging.

• Baby Carrots (or really any food that is baby-sized, like baby corn? Fuck yes!)
• The debauchery of The Cabinet. Reminds me of my younger days.
• My new moonlighting gig. Not literally, you silly readers! 
• The fact that YouTube recommended a video called "The Most Racist Commercials" for me to watch.

• Chicken quesadillas. 
• Having absolutely no gumption to write anything substantial.

I'll leave you with this glimpse into what my life has been like the last six months.


I've got a few juicy posts in the works so stay tuned.

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There's been a lot of hullabaloo over the iPhone 4 and its alleged antenna woes. I've experienced the issue a few times myself, but it hasn't been anything that has caused a dropped call or anything. More troublesome, to me, is the increased sensitivity of the proximity sensor, which has helped me to do things like unintentionally create conference calls, put people on mute, hang up on people and put them on speaker. However, the antenna issue is getting all the attention.

Jon Gruber over at Daring Fireball has a hilarious take on what Apple is really trying to say in their press release, which claims that the iPhone has always used the wrong formula to indicate AT&T's signal strength. Apple kind of reminds me of a boss I used to have who would always blame the same one person whenever something went wrong.

Well. It's AT&T's fault. Helllllooooooo Verizon!

Gruber's thoughts:

Translation From Apple’s Unique Dialect of PR-Speak to English of the ‘Letter From Apple Regarding iPhone 4’

Friday, 2 July 2010

Source: “Letter From Apple Regarding iPhone 4”.

The iPhone 4 has been the most successful product launch in Apple’s history. It has been judged by reviewers around the world to be the best smartphone ever, and users have told us that they love it. So we were surprised when we read reports of reception problems, and we immediately began investigating them. Here is what we have learned.

We cannot believe we had to write this fucking letter.

To start with, gripping almost any mobile phone in certain ways will reduce its reception by 1 or more bars. This is true of iPhone 4, iPhone 3GS, as well as many Droid, Nokia and RIM phones.

We cannot believe we’re getting shit for this.

But some users have reported that iPhone 4 can drop 4 or 5 bars when tightly held in a way which covers the black strip in the lower left corner of the metal band. This is a far bigger drop than normal, and as a result some have accused the iPhone 4 of having a faulty antenna design.

(No translation necessary.)

At the same time, we continue to read articles and receive hundreds of emails from users saying that iPhone 4 reception is better than the iPhone 3GS. They are delighted. This matches our own experience and testing. What can explain all of this?

It really is a better antenna and gets better reception, overall, than any previous iPhone. That’s really the hell of this whole goddamn situation. It’s like a two steps forward, one step back design, except maybe more like three steps forward, because this thing is faster at downloading, 10 times faster at uploading, and most importantly is better at not dropping calls with a weak signal. But, yes, there’s that one step back, wherein it can suffer from unintended attenuation when you bridge the lower-left antenna gap with your skin, and frankly, we’re a little pissed that this one step back is getting all the attention.

We have discovered the cause of this dramatic drop in bars, and it is both simple and surprising.

We are going to blame AT&T.

Upon investigation, we were stunned to find that the formula we use to calculate how many bars of signal strength to display is totally wrong. Our formula, in many instances, mistakenly displays 2 more bars than it should for a given signal strength. For example, we sometimes display 4 bars when we should be displaying as few as 2 bars.

We decided from the outset to set the formula for our bars-of-signal strength indicator to make the iPhone look good — to make it look as it “gets more bars”. That decision has now bit us on our ass.

Users observing a drop of several bars when they grip their iPhone in a certain way are most likely in an area with very weak signal strength, but they don’t know it because we are erroneously displaying 4 or 5 bars. Their big drop in bars is because their high bars were never real in the first place.

Yes, with no case on the phone, your signal strength can drop by about 20 or even 30 percent depending how you hold the phone. We’re going to change the bar algorithm so that you’ll only lose one bar (maybe two, if you’re holding the phone obnoxiously tight or have gross sweaty palms) if you’re holding it that way.

To fix this, we are adopting AT&T’s recently recommended formula for calculating how many bars to display for a given signal strength. The real signal strength remains the same, but the iPhone’s bars will report it far more accurately, providing users a much better indication of the reception they will get in a given area. We are also making bars 1, 2 and 3 a bit taller so they will be easier to see.

We are braced for the backlash when, after installing this update, people who weren’t experiencing any problems at all with their iPhones start complaining, loudly, that their phones which used to get five bars now only get three or two or whatever from the same locations, and we all know — us and everyone reading this — that Gizmodo will immediately declare that the update has made iPhone 4 reception worse, even though we’ve just explained that we’re not changing anything related to actual reception, but rather only to how we indicate signal strength.

We will issue a free software update within a few weeks that incorporates the corrected formula. Since this mistake has been present since the original iPhone, this software update will also be available for the iPhone 3GS and iPhone 3G.

(No translation necessary.)

We have gone back to our labs and retested everything, and the results are the same — the iPhone 4’s wireless performance is the best we have ever shipped. For the vast majority of users who have not been troubled by this issue, this software update will only make your bars more accurate. For those who have had concerns, we apologize for any anxiety we may have caused.

Don’t fuck this thing up for us. We mean, have you seen the Retina Display?

As a reminder, if you are not fully satisfied, you can return your undamaged iPhone to any Apple Retail Store or the online Apple Store within 30 days of purchase for a full refund.

We dare you.
And take your class action suits filed four days after we released the goddamn thing and stick them up your fucking asses.

We hope you love the iPhone 4 as much as we do.

Seriously, have you seen it?

Thank you for your patience and support.

Don’t hold it that way or buy a case.

Gizmodo, the trashiest of tech-blogs, explains (while wiping Cheetos dust on their worn-out sweatpants and burping) their take on the software update here.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled programming.

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Okay peoples! Here's the story...

Myself and a few like-minded individuals are doing a weekly podcast called Updog and I'd like for you to take a listen.

So what's it all about? Well I'm glad you asked. Updog is your moral compass, helping you navigate the troubling and often awkward waters of the modern social world.

Take a listen by clicking this link.

If there's something you'd like for us to cover on the show, you can email us, find us on Twitter or...email me. I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoy making it.

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Okay. It's Tuesday. It's hot out. This old dude across from me at the coffee shop has been blathering on and on about his stupid dead wife. She got hit by a bus. I know, right? Also pretty sure I'm suffering from withdrawal (meth, it's tough to kick, y'know). So, here's a list of things that are currently chapping my chappie.

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