Speaking of Halloween

I'm kind of Mr. Unpopular around here on Halloween. Reason: I don't give out candy. Instead, we package up little containers of carrot juice. It's healthy, and it tastes great. It also happens to cost a lot more than some cheap crap candy bar. But do these spoiled little Palo Alto brats appreciate the effort? You should see the faces they pull, standing there in their stupid little costumes, whining for candy. Some of them actually smash the juice containers on the walk. And in the last few years some of the older ones have started coming back and egging the domicile. I know who they are. I've talked to their parents. They're like, Hey, what do you expect when you're giving out friggin carrot juice? So this year my pal T.J. Rodgers and I have cooked up a little plan. Kind of a cross between our "Rat Patrol" game up in the Tenderloin and a prank that T.J.'s frat in college used to pull. I'm not at liberty to discuss all the details. But let me just say it involves water cannons, tasers, bean bag guns, a dozen guys from the Apple security squad and slingshot-launched "meatballs" made of Alpo dog food mixed with dog shit. (That's the part that came from T.J.'s frat, only it wasn't dog shit they were shooting, trust me.) Anyhoo. We're hanging out in the house with the lights out, dressed in commando outfits with our faces blackened and night-vision goggles at our sides. If you hear about some California high school punks sent to the emergency room at Stanford with mouths stuffed with dog shit, well, it wasn't us. Honest.

So Al Gore calls

And he says John Kerry's in California and would I do some appearances with him. I'm like Dude, he's one of the only people on the planet who's more hated than me right now, you think I want to do that to myself? Sheesh. I got the SEC and the DOJ and the FBI crawling up my butt out here. And WTF with Kerry going around saying soldiers in Iraq are a bunch of frigtards who didn't finish high school? Gore says, That's taken out of context. He was talking about Bush, he was saying Bush is a frigtard. And I'm like, But wait a minute, what's Kerry doing calling Bush a frigtard? I mean, didn't it come out after the last election that Kerry had worse grades at Yale than Bush did? And lower scores on his military entrance exam? Isn't he the same as Bush, just another rich moron? Al goes, No, Steve, honestly, John Kerry is a real heavyweight intellectual, he's read all sorts of big heavy books, he's always reading, why you should see the library he's got in his house in Beacon Hill. So I go, Well, if he's such an intellectual heavyweight, why's he not in the White House? Why'd he get his ass beat by chimp boy?

Then I'm like, Um, whoops. And I start mumbling something like, Um, which is not to say that, um, you know, that winning elections is the same as being smart, which it could be, but not necessarily, and in your case, I think you actually won, didn't you? And Gore goes, Yeah. I did. I won. Whatever, Steve. Just forget about it. Bye.

Dammit. Now I feel like a floating turd. Happy friggin Halloween.

Check this out

Some freak just sent in this globalgasm link to the comments string. Every Sunday night at 9 p.m. PST these weirdos from around the world get on their webcams and, um, you know. Do it. Alone or with partners. On or off webcam. Dudes, I am so down with this. Best thing is you just know this was created by some skeevy fat middle-aged dude who's tricking all these people into getting on cam so he can watch them and spank his banana. Um, Woz? This has got your M.O. all over it. Seriously, you're sooo busted on this, dude. And yet, I do love you, man.

Save the friggin snow

I love this. Bill Joy just sent me a link to this "Save the Snow" campaign out at Aspen. They're all running around like idiots on this global warming thing ... except that their own ads say that last year Aspen had a "near-record snowfall." Check out their website here. Front and center they've got the exact question I asked Bill: Like, if you're getting record snowfall, what's the friggin problem? "Don't confuse climate with weather," is the answer. Whatever the frig that means.

You know what bugs me? When rich a-holes who use way more resources than anyone else on the planet try to make themselves feel better by throwing up a pious Web site and beating up their rich friends for donations. Like, um, folks? How do you get up to the top of Aspen to ski? Are you gonna be hiking this year? Yeah. Call me back for a donation when you've taken out all the lifts, sold your SUVs and returned the village to candlelight.

Caption contest

Well, it's Tuesday again. Seems like it was just Tuesday only a few days ago. Anyhoo. Here's the challenge. Good luck.

BTW, if you stumble across any shots you think would be great for the weekly contest, please send them along. El Jobso is trying to get hip to this notion of community development and user generated content. It's all about building community, and I am all about that, always have been. Okay. Peace out.

Caption winners

So many good ones this week. I can't choose just one. Here are some standouts, in no particular order:

aprel:
Birthday Cake at TGIF - $25.00
Dinner with friends and family - $97.55
Catching my sister with a "Cock Sucker's Cramp" in a photo - priceless.


Kristalogy:
"Make a wish, Sergey."
"I wish Fake Steve would die, I wish Fake Steve would die..."

Anonymous
Sergey: "Darn it, I knocked the blow-up doll over again!"

operative c:
At fourteen, Sergey Brin made three promises to himself, should he ever become a billionaire:
1. He was going to continue to dress like the Russian mobsters he so admired.
2. He would continue to get the same Cookie Puss birthday cake that he had gotten since he was five.
3. He would find a woman whose lips were permanently ready for oral sex, and bring her with him wherever he went.
Here's to keepin' it real, Sergey.


sergio:
Sadly, Sergei was unable to wish his $1,65bn back.

Mark Stahlman, hero of Wall Street

So there's a story out about how Apple is going to "mine the mainstream" and boost our share of the PC market. See it here. But note that the main source for this article is Mark Stahlman from Gartner. He's reiterating his frigtarded idea that Apple should get out of the hardware business and instead license OS X to Dell. Folks, know one thing: Mark Stahlman has been lurking around in the back alleys of Wall Street for about 20 years and has never, not once, made a correct prediction. Which is why he keeps popping up someplace new every six months or so. How he has managed to survive in a business built on seeing into the future is beyond me. Yet people keep hiring him. It's like hiring a blind guy to be a ferry captain. Check out his bio. It leaves out about a dozen other places where he's been briefly employed. The kind word for a guy like this is "gadfly." The unkind word, of course, is "frigtard." Worse yet, despite his appalling track record, he's always trying to get himself quoted in the press. He doesn't even wait for the reporters to call him; he bombards them with email, touting some crazy new theory and begging to be put into stories. IBM should buy General Motors. Microsoft should license Linux, rebuild Windows. HP should relocate to China. And whenever anything happens in tech, Stahlman mailbombs all the tech beat hacks saying, "Mark Stahlman is available for comment." He's like the crazy guy in your apartment building who goes around sliding "the world is ending" flyers under everyone's door. (Much love to Katie Cotton for doing the investigative work required to file this blog item. You're the best, Katie.)

What kills me is that if you read to the end of this story the writer puts in all her pious obligatory little caveats about which analysts work for firms that make a market in Apple shares, as if to reassure us that now we can indeed trust everything these sell-side whores are saying. (And as if somehow this will also assure us that thestreet.com is a legitimate source for investment advice. Ahem.) But nowhere does she say, Warning: The guy I'm quoting throughout this story, Mark Stahlman, is a press-whore publicity hound who is famous for being consistently wrong, yet I'm quoting him anyway and building my entire story around his insane, self-serving theories, which are designed solely to draw attention to his deservedly unknown firm, and which even Mark himself does not truly believe, but I'm telling it to you anyway and hoping maybe you'll believe it. Or maybe just because I've got a deadline to meet and no ideas, and here's this loonie-tunes in my email box saying he's ready to get on the phone right now.

Greenpeace sucks

I've been dying to write about this but couldn't until the news broke. Well, at last the truth comes out about Greenpeace. They are terrorists and criminals. Read this. Assaulting babies on the floor of the MacExpo show in London, after registering a booth under a false name. Nice people. Here's their pathetic "who me?" defense.

You know what? Not only am I gonna go seal hunting with Larry this weekend. I'm also instructing our Chinese manufacturers to increase the amount of PVC in every Macintosh. You want war, Greenpeace? I'll give you war.

I pity the Fool

Some dude from the Motley Fool has dumped all his shares and explains why here. Of course it's all my fault. Money quote:

Jobs' flimsy apology and the lack of real consequences that came with it suggests that he and other Apple executives are content to hold shareholders at arms' length. It's as if he's pleading for us to simply trust him, and all will be well. Someday.

I don't get it. Isn't that exactly what the Google guys say? And everyone believes them. I just know Jerry York is behind this stuff. He's planting these stories all over the place. Man, I gotta go do some meditation and get my head clear. I've got Meditation Room A (aka the Tassajara room) booked all afternoon. Namaste.

I friggin love this

Bang & Olufsen is selling a mobile phone for $1,275, and it looks like this. Frigtards put the screen on the bottom and keypad on the top. I just sent this down to our iPhone team with a suggestion we raise our price to $2,500. BTW we've abandoned the one-button idea. Not everything you dream up while tripping on psychedelics is a good idea. Most things, but not everything.

Forgive the missed days

I've been having problems with my friggin MacBook shutting down. Can't tell you how many blog items I've had 90% done and then bam the friggin Mac craps out on me. Anyhoo, we've shipped a fix and supposedly mine is gonna get updated as soon as the guys in tech support can work me in. Meanwhile I'm blogging from a cyber cafe in Campbell. If you've never been to Campbell, trust me -- I'm making a sacrifice for my art.

Good luck, DVD Jon

People keep asking me if I'm pissed at this Jon Johansen dude who claims he's hacked Fair Play. See an article about him and his partner here.

Thing is, I'm really not. No company is gonna license it. And as for end users, who's gonna use this crap? A few freaks, maybe. Just to make a point and show they can do it. Fine. Have fun. We don't give a shit about you freaks anyway. In case you hadn't noticed we're a mass market company. And the mass market audience loves iTunes, loves iPod, loves that they work together so well. The goofballs in the fringe never understand that. Convenience trumps sound quality. We proved that. And ease of use trumps the freedom to move your music around.

Anyway, if by some wild chance this dude does start getting successful we'll put his Norwegian ass in jail. Why is it always weirdo Scandinavians who get sand in their crack over DRM and stuff like that? Is it something in their culture? Freaks. I've never been to Scandinavia, but I already know I don't like it.

Die, Red Hat. Die!

So I called Larry and I'm like, Dude, WTF with this attack on Red Hat? You look like the big schoolyard bully picking on the little Linux nerd, the kid with the pocket protector full of pens and the calculator on his belt. Here's how Larry explained it:

"Look, bud, here's the deal. Eight months or so ago I was gonna buy this French punk Marc Fleury and his little POS company JBoss. Offered way more than it was worth just because the kid is giving away a free version of IBM's Websphere and I figured it would piss off IBM if I bought them. So this little cheese-smelling punk comes to my office, I throw out a number that I know is gonna make the eyes roll back in his head, he shakes my hand, and we're done. But then the little prick goes out to the elevator acting like he's some master negotiator and he says to the guy with him, "Did you see that? I just fucked Larry Ellison." Bad news for Marc is that I've got the space bugged and so we capture the whole thing on tape. So I call him up on his cell phone and I go, Hey, Marc? I just want to tell you something. Nobody fucks Larry. Larry fucks you. And by the way, deal's off, frog boy. Next thing I know he goes and sells to Red Hat, and that lunatic Szulik starts going around saying how he's gonna pull a late 1980s Microsoft maneuver and try to defy the big guys by building a stack that competes against us. Have you ever met Szulik? He's no Bill Gates, let's put it that way. In fact the guy's as dumb as a bag of hammers but really thinks he's a player. Anyone on his executive team who's at all smart, he drives them out because he's threatened by them. And for this the frigtards on Wall Street are rewarding him with a P/E of about 50. Even though if you comb through his financials, as we did, you'll see that a rather large part of his company's "profits" don't come from operations -- they come from the interest that's being thrown off by the cash he raised by selling bonds a couple years ago. Seriously, the place is a huge house of cards.

"So OK, the Szulik-tard and Fleury-tard want to play with the big boys. Fair enough. Well, here's my thinking. I whip the shit out of Red Hat's business, steal a few customers and advertise the shit out of it. I drive the stock price down to about 5 bucks. Then I scoop in and buy the place up with spare change that I found in my pants after a weekend in Napa. Then I fly into Raleigh in my fighter jet and stomp into their offices dressed entirely in black, like a friggin ninja. I call these two frigtards into what used to be Szulik's office and tell them I've changed their jobs, put them on the custodial staff, and here are their uniforms. And just for a little extra fun, I tell Fleury that we're suing him for fraud for not disclosing some crap about how frigged up his company was -- this was stuff we found in our due diligence that I guess Mr. Shit for Brains Szulik didn't notice. Then we take Fleury-tard to court and force him to give back every dime he made when he sold JBoss to Red Hat. Hell, maybe I get some of my buds at the DOJ to launch a criminal investigation.

"If there's one thing people in the Valley know, it's this: Nobody fucks Larry. Larry fucks you."

Caption contest

Well, it's Tuesday again, and you know what that means. Time for FSJ's caption contest. Just to help you all get started: That's my good pal Sergey Brin in the photo. Okay. My work here is done. Do your worst.

Silent but deadly

Cornered by his two least favorite people, Bill Gates smiles to himself as he rips a huge fart as silently as possible.

Much love to operative c for this one.

Runner-up:

Bill: It's like "dining philosophers" without the dining and the philosophers. I'm stuck between metastases and senility. And boy do I hate these flowers. It will feel good to destroy mankind when I release Vista.

Mad props to Scooter McNealy.

Fake Mac Pros are in the mail.

Caption winner

Steve: Mossberg says it's this big
Gates: But it's all shriveled up. It just creeps me out.
--mcloki.
Free fake Nano is in the mail.

Larry's living large at Oracle OpenWorld

Here's Larry last night at the business partner reception in the VIP lounge at the Moscone Center. Cost him ten million bucks to pimp the place out like a harem. But worth every pennny, or so he says. Dudes behind him in the black robes are Oracle VARs who beat their number for the year. While Larry's upstairs partying, poor old Chuck Phillips is down on the show floor talking about the other Oracle cluster-frig, aka Fusion.

I asked Larry about this a while ago. I'm like, Dude, let me get this straight. You're gonna take the code base from Siebel, the code base from PeopleSoft, and the code base from all the little frigged up pieces of Oracle programs, and you're gonna magically make them all work together seamlessly. Is that it? Larry goes, Yep, that's exactly it. I go, Larry, there's no way this can work. He goes, No shit, kid. Ya think I'm stupid? I actually know how to write code, remember? But it'll be five years before anyone figures it out, and five more before the defection begins. By then I'll be eighty-something years old and living in my hermetically sealed oxygen-enhanced space base in the California desert and drinking Viagra milkshakes with a bevy of young nubiles. I go, What about your wife? He goes, She's welcome to join us; and as for Oracle, trust me, I won't shed a friggin tear for my dear old Oracle. To be honest, I can't believe we've survived as long as we have. Do you realize that in this company's entire history Oracle has never -- I mean never, not for a minute -- had a product that actually worked as advertised? And yet here we are. I'm the 15th richest guy in the world. Well, nothing lasts forever, and we've had some fun. I'm selling shares as fast as I can and putting money into anti-aging biotech products, stuff that lets you live to be a hundred and fifty and still have hard-ons. That's the next big thing, Jobso. That and space tourism. Computers and software? Buggy whips, kid. Buggy whips.

This site creeps me out

A commenter dropped a link to this site, which is called "all about steve," with about a zillion photographs of me, and I just have to say this: Dude, you are creeping me out. Can you imagine some lunatic sitting around all day gathering up photos of me and putting them on his website, like some friggin schoolgirl collecting fanzine photos of Bobby Sherman? What kind of sick weirdo has nothing better to do than write an entire website about Steve Jobs?

The site is managed by this French kid named Romain Moisecot, who claims he was born on my birthday and has some kind of weird obsession with Macs and with me personally. We have been trying to shut his ass down for years. Soon as we get a court order, he goes offline then pops up somewhere else. It's like playing friggin whack-a-mole. Now he's posting comments on my blog. Plus the French courts totally suck and drag everything out for months and years. Except, of course, when some a-hole wants to sue us over the iPod, in which case everything sails along quite smoothly. Funny ain't it?

So the bus pulls up

And the door flies open and there's like a pack of sorority girls inside. I'm like, Guys, who's this? Chad goes, They're our dates. I'm like, You know what? I thought that sick bastard who runs Yelp was crazy. But you guys take the cake. (Fair enough, if you look closely you'll notice that clearly Sergey prefers quantity over quality; but hey, he's Russian, so forgive the guy. Besides I'm pretty sure the skanky ones were there for Steve Chen. And yes, Miss Greenshirt, that means you. The Chenmeister likes a little extra moo-goo-gai on his plate.)

Sergey goes, Steve, This is how I roll every night, I'm not even kidding you man. I've got more money than the top 10 Hollywood movie stars put together, and I'm better looking than half of them. You ever see Brad Pitt up close, in bright light? Not pretty. My boy Chad here is no slouch with the ladies either. Fuck it, man, even Chen is getting laid. He's out in the orgy room at the far end of the bus right now, delivering what he calls "The Zen of Chen" to the entire Stanford cheerleading squad. Or is it those Tri-Delts? Dude, I can't even remember, honestly. Chad goes, Um, Steve, you want any of these girls, just help yourself, okay? I mean it. I love you, Steve Jobs. You're my hero. When I was a kid, growing up, I used to like worship you. I can't believe I'm like standing here, like actually talking to Steve Jobs! Wow.

So we go inside

And here's what the inside of the front party vehicle looks like. He goes, And dude, this is the small one. Wait till you see what we did with the bus. I'm like, Who's in the bus? He goes, Oh, our dates.

You gotta admire the way Sergey rolls

So we invited Sergey and Chad Hurley over for dinner. I wanna keep up with what the young kids are doing, and to be honest, I don't really get this Web 2.0 stuff. So I figure they can explain it to me. Plus, I had a blast with Sergey on our Asian weekend. Anyhoo. They go, Sure, we'd love to come over, can we bring dates? I'm like, Yeah, of course, that's great. See you then. Well it hadn't occurred to me to wonder what kind of cars these dudes would drive, but I guess if I'd given it any thought I'd have guessed a Porsche or maybe a Ferrari or a Lamborghini, the typical nouveau riche look-at-me-I-just-made-my-first-billion kinda stuff. Either that or they'd be all poser-y and drive some beat-up old Toyota shitbox that they've had since grad school; or worse yet, a friggin Prius. But no. Wrong on all counts. These mofos roll up in a friggin armored friggin tank, with a huge motorhome type bus following behind (you can just barely see it in the photo, that tiny blue spot down the road). Sergey and Chad leap out of the front truck. Sergey tells me they're a matched set, created by some crazy Russians to race in the Paris-Dakar rally. Sergey paid $20 million for the lead truck and the supply bus, and then spent another $30 million pimping them out. "Steve," he says, "what did you expect from the world's richest Russian? Good taste? Restraint? A fucking Jaguar? Or a Lexus? Ha! I bought half a dozen of those for my Uncle Fetya. He's at my house right now sitting in a bathtub of Beluga caviar geting his nails done by a pair of Vietnamese prostitutes! So step inside the party bus, dude! You won't believe the interiors! It's like if Steve Wynn and Liberace had a love child, and he became an interior designer. I hired the fucker who does all of Donald Trump's personal residences, and made him work with Bobby Trendy, just to piss him off! Damn it is fucking great being rich, isn't it?"

Money talks, bullshit walks

Profits up 27%. iPod units up 35%. Computer revenues up 37%. Record sales, $19.3 billion v. $13.9 a year ago. $10 billion in cash. You know what I did yesterday? I didn't say a word. I just walked around the executive suite tacking up copies of our earnings release from the same quarter in 1996. Used a real hammer and big huge nails, just like friggin Martin Luther King. The original one, not the Jr. one from the 1960s. I think I made my point.

Caption Contest, Part II

I hate to complicate things, because you know I am all about the simplicity, but my second assistant's assistant just emailed me this shot and the expressions are just so great that I know people will have a field day with it. I mean, look at the hands, right? Please, friends, have a go at it. Share it with your pals. Pass it around. We'll have winners for this one and the Mossberg photo. Fake red Nanos. Or was it fake Mac Pros? Whatever. Fake something. Much love.

The anti-Steve propaganda campaign continues

Now Wired reports that I didn't create the iPod. It was a team effort. Tony Fadell, Jon Rubinstein, Jeff Robbin, Greg Joswiak, Phil Schiller, Tim Wasko -- those were the key guys. Heck, old Steve was hardly around half the time.

Don't be naive. As with the Journal story on Monday, don't think this Wired thing just happened by itself, without the cooperation of people inside Apple. My own foot soldiers have set themselves to the ignoble task of un-writing the Legend of El Jobso and smoothing the way for my successor. Truly a tragedy worthy of Ibsen. Or is it Chekhov? I always get them confused.

Me and all my friends at Apple having lunch

Yeah. It's like dat y'all. Ever since that Journal story on Tim Cook, people just steer clear of me. Other day I was walking past a shipping dock and somebody inside, out of sight, yelled out, "Dead man walking!" like in that movie. Crap. So mostly I'm just sitting around, waiting to hear from Jerry York, wondering what, if anything, anyone wants me to do around here. I tried arranging a couple of meetings; everyone's "busy" all of a sudden. Their "calendars are booked." Riiiiight. Meanwhile I see Tim Cook and a bunch of his guys high-fiving and yucking it up outside the Apple gym, and then they all get quiet when they see me.

Here's a game for you all. How many believe Apple will announce my step-down this evening when we announce results?

And if not tonight, when? Whoever picks the correct date gets a free fake iMac, er, well, maybe a free Pixar DVD. I'm pretty sure I still have a job there.

This is why I hate bloggers

So we ship some iPods that contain a Windows virus. Naturally, we blame Microsoft. Now in the blogosphere, we're the bad guys. You know what? I hope they friggin fire me. I can't stand this crap.

Last week's winners

Dudes, I hate to do this, because every entry was just soooo good, but we gotta have a winner from last week. I'm calling it a tie:

From Zmooth G:
Legos: $5
Black Shirts: $20
Google aquires YouTube: $1.65B
Schmidt showing the correct hand positioning for scrotum stimulation: Priceless
There are some things money can't buy, for everything else there's MasterCard.


From Luis de la Orden Morais:

Schmidt: I, for one, would rather squeeze it as I throb it forwards and backwards...
Sergei: No way, dude, you don't do something like that with something so precious. Just pick it up with the tips of your fingers and massage it gently...
Larry: Right, any more suggestions for a possible use of YouTube?

Not sure why such a focus on masturbation. No doubt it reveals a great deal about our readership's demographic. Fake Mac Pros are in the mail. Thanks to all who competed so valiantly. Good luck on the new one (below).

Caption contest

Well, it's Tuesday again, and I'm a creature of habit. (Very perfect, exquisitely detailed habits, in fact.) FYI for the uninitiated, that's the incredibly egotistical (I mean even more than me, no guff) Walt Mossberg of the Wall Street Journal talking to me and Mr. Bill. Free fake iTV prototype to the winner. Have at it!

Those crazy mofos at Sun, you gotta love em

I mean, the friggin company is bleeding cash faster than Flavor Flav in a Vegas tittie bar, their costs are all out of whack, all of the big brains are long gone, they're on corporate life support, and what they need most is a serious dose of belt-tightening and a sharp focus on AMD-based machines ... so what do they do? They crank out this friggin monstrosity, which they claim customers are going to be lining up to buy. Project Blackbox, they call it. Project Frigtard would be a better name. Jesus. Now I know why John Doerr split. He can't stand watching Schwartz steer the ship into a new iceberg every three months. Dude, this thing looks like a friggin Meals on Wheels truck for Christ's sake. This photo doesn't show it but there's a Jordanian on the other side selling falafels out of a friggin window. And I'm pretty sure that's a soft drink dispenser at the far left. Man oh man. I mean, okay, this would be a fun idea if you were a booming company throwing off lots of cash, a place where engineers could just let their imaginations run wild. You know, like Sun, circa 1999. Oh wait. I get it. This must be that "big friggin Webtone switch" that Scooter was always ranting about. Maybe they found it sitting out in a building someplace and dusted it off. It'll look great in the Sun display at the Computer Museum alongside all their other great ideas, like paying a bazillion dollars for Star Office and half a bazillion for Cobalt.

Ponytail Boy, you need to have your head examined. But I love you, man. I do. You're always good for a laugh. Peace out.

Et tu, Tim Cook?

If you haven't seen the story in today's Journal (page B1) you should go check it out. Big profile of what a wonderful, smart, professional guy our COO Tim Cook is. And in case you don't know what it means to have your company's #2 guy glowingly profiled on B1 of the Monday Wall Street Journal, let me explain it to you: I'm toast.

This maneuver is classic Jerry York, using the press to tee up his new CEO. I just can't believe Tim would stab me in the back and go along with it. I tried calling Tim. Got the machine. Tried Jerry. Suddenly he's not taking my calls. I left him voice mail saying, Dude, I know this is your work, okay? I've seen you in operation, doing this very same thing to GM, remember?

You can tell it's Jerry because with Jerry it's always the Journal. Not the Times. Jerry hates the Times. But he's got friends at the Journal. So he'll have someone he knows put a bug in the ear of some editor at the Journal, who passes word to some other editor, and next thing you know it's getting mentioned to a reporter. It's all so smooth that this poor sap Wingfield who wrote the article probably believes he thought it up himself. (Way to go, Nick! You just got played. Go talk to your assignment editor and see if I'm right.) Basically, Jerry is the devil. I've always known that. I just thought that he was my devil. Wrong.

So read the story, and pay careful attention to the space between the lines. Or let me decrypt it for you:

Mr. Cook is the low-key operator making sure the company is running smoothly behind the scenes.

Read: He's already running the place.

When Mr. Jobs was recovering two years ago from surgery for pancreatic cancer, he placed the company's day-to-day operations in Mr. Cook's hands.

Read: Don't worry, he's done it before, we're fine without El Jobso.

Mr. Cook ... is routinely solicited for CEO jobs.

Read: He's chief executive material, and he'll be great here.

He isn't believed to have had a role in the backdating of stock-option grants.

Read: He's clean, and ethical, unlike that SOB Steve Jobs.

Article even contains Tim's entire resume and background, a few anecdotes about how old Tim straightened up our manufacturing processes, how everyone likes him and says he's so smart and analytical and detail-oriented, and such a courtly Southern gentleman. (As opposed to you-know-who, described as having a "mercurial temper and sharp tongue.")

Apple of course declines to comment. But the story is loaded up with a bunch of flattering quotes from Tim's friends. You think those people spoke to the Journal without Tim's permission? Please.

I give myself a month, tops. Probably less. Any day now the phone is gonna ring and it'll be Jerry telling me we have a special board meeting. Next thing ya know I'll be sipping Margaritas with Carly Fiorina and Scooter McNealy at their weekly "Ex-CEO Support Group" meetings at Bennigan's in Santa Clara. Or maybe I can take up Segway Polo with Woz. Or spend some of my money and get myself shot up into space, like what's her name. Frig me.

Memo to Apple board: Just remember what Apple looked like before I returned in glory, riding on the back of a donkey while people threw palm fronds on the road. And remember who you're dealing with here. I'm Steve Jobs, people. I invented the friggin iPod, remember? Have you heard of it?

Well, whatever. Congratulations, Tim. I wish you the best. You backstabbing inbred Alabama frigtard.

Groan

So Bono calls to talk about his AIDS thing, and as we're talking he lets slip that he was one of the finalists for the Nobel prize this year. So of course I try to be all positive and happy for him, but inside I'm just totally dying, my stomach is just in knots. I mean, come on! Friggin Bono? He makes the short list and I'm still out here pounding my pud? WTF, right? And he goes, Yeah, do me a favor and don't tell anyone about it, nobody knows, I haven't told anyone except The Edge, and he won't tell anyone, Christ he didn't even know what the fookin prize was, he thought it was something from MTV, but yeah, it was me and Cindy Sheehan and Ahmadinejad up for the peace prize. I go, Ahmadinejad? Is he the microloan dude? Bono goes, Naw, man, he's the shah of Iran. I go, Wait, I thought he died like a long time ago or something. Bono says, Nah, he's the new shah, the one they just elected last year. He's totally all about bringing peace to the region and all, and I mean he's totally first-rate. Me and Geldof had lunch with him a while back, and he's just totally kewl. I go, So who's the guy making tiny loans to poor people, like the guy who won, like what's his name? Bono goes, Fook if I know, and man, I'll tell ya, if I'd known all you had to do to win the Nobel Peace Prize was go around handing out ten-dollar bills or whatever, I mean, shite, anyone could do that right? Fookin hell. Can't do it now, though, cause it's been done. Gotta think of something else. I go, Well maybe this AIDS thing will do it, but he says, Yeah, you know, I was thinking about that, but like, keepin em alive ain't gonna do nothing fer peace is it? I mean it's just more of the fookers who can chop each other to bits with fookin machetes. I dunno. Well, we'll keep thinkin about it. And like you say, brother, Peace. Pay it forward. Peace.

This is maybe a little bit embarrassing

But this year I had some of our PR people put together a little presentation to send to the Nobel people. All about the Apple World Peace Summit featuring Bill Clinton, Nelson Mandela and Bono. One of our guys got a little snippy with me, saying that a, you can't apply for a Nobel prize, and b, the peace summit hasn't even happened yet, and c, shouldn't we be devoting resources to handle this little options scandal? Suffice to say that guy no longer works at Apple. Though we are gonna pay his hospitalization and plastic surgery bills.

And yes, I did clear my schedule for the day when the prizes were announced, so I could sit home by the phone. Silly, I know. Ellison told me I'm being foolish. You know what? I wish I could be like him. Just vapid and self-centered and caring about nothing about racing giant penis boats and sleeping with Asian PR chicks. But I can't. I want more from life. I want to make a difference. That's my fatal flaw.

I always get depressed this time of year

Silly reason, really. But it's Nobel season, and even though I know better, every year there's just that little voice inside of me thinking, like, maybe this is my year. I know. I know. It's ridiculous. I tell myself, don't even think about it. But I can't help it. I get my hopes up. And then they announce the winner and I'm just crushed. I mean, nothing against the guy this year, the dude who loaned money to the poor people or whatever. Very cool idea. It's just -- I don't know how to put this. Well, I know a computer or a music player maybe just seems like a piece of consumer electronics. But that's not the only way of looking at it. And in this other way of looking at it, you could kind of start to see certain things as being kind of transformative, in a cultural kind of way. Well, that's all I'm going to say about it. Peace out.

By the way, Graef

I'm worth something like 5 billion dollars or something. Why would I go all greedy about $85 million? You ever thought of that? I could go set $85 million on fire in my backyard and not even care. Heck, I could give it away to some AIDS charity, or some global warning fund, and look like a friggin hero, and I wouldn't even feel a pinch. Um, wait a minute ... hey, Jared, can you get Peter Oppenheimer and Bono on a conference call? Thanks sweetie.

Graef Crystal? Is that even a real name? Are you kidding me?

Just trying to keep up with the convoluted math in this Bloomberg story makes my head spin. The guy leaps through more hoops than one of Siegfried and Roy's white tigers. Take the value of some old options, subtract the price on the day they were granted, add in the cost of buying a new Black-Scholes [who they? ed.] private jet, time-travel forward and multiply by the difference between the rate of inflation and the average home mortgage interest rate over the trailing five-year period ... and somehow it turns out I've been overpaid. Please. Dude, I'm worth every friggin penny, and more. You know it. The shareholders know. The friggin SEC dudes know it too. We were in a meeting with those douchebags yesterday and one of them whips out a MacBook. I'm like, Say, you like that laptop? He goes, Oh yeah, I love it, it's great. I go, Well then leave me the frig alone, a-hole, or there won't be any more of them! Christ, if it weren't for me, Apple would be a division of Dell now. Or Sun. I don't know which is worse.

As for "Graef Crystal," or whatever your real name is, you can bite me. (My theory is that Graef Crystal is a pen name for Alvy Ray Smith. But it's just a theory. I'm thinking about sending a subpoena to Bloomberg to find out.)

Shop till it stops, people

AIDS, that is. We've totally gotta stop it. So please support Bono, Oprah and the rest of us who are sponsoring the (Product) Red project. The whole idea is just so damn dead brilliant. Buy one of our red nanos and we'll give ten bucks to stomp out AIDS in Africa. Friends, this project means a lot to me, and not only cause it will help Bono get some more free publicity. I mean, I actually spent 90 seconds on the phone with a reporter from the AP today, you know what I'm saying? Trust me, I never talk to those a-holes. And we're lighting up our New York store in red. So bitchin. As I said in the AP article:

"I've never been to Africa, but you don't have to go there to know there are a lot of people dying of AIDS there."

I think that about says it all, doesn't it? Heck, you might not even be able to pick out Guyana or Freedonia on a map of Africa, but now you can help out. Just by doing what you already do every day. Buying loads of shit you don't need. Now you can feel good about that. So cool, right? I'm telling you, Bono is a friggin genius. And we are sooo going to party when he gets here. Peace out.

A new site to check out

Not sure I should do this, but our open-source free-software pal Hog asked me to do him a solid and mention this new project he's got going. Just to be clear, I have nothing to do with this.

I know Red Sox fans hate the Yankees ...

But this is taking things too far. These photos show the scene an hour ago in Kenmore Square after news of Cory Lidle's last wild pitch reached Boston. Burning cars. Cops with tear gas. Well at least there's no longer any doubt. Red Sox fans are the absolute worst fans in all of professional sports. Folks, this Yankee fixation is out of control. Check out this sickening video of Beantards trying to sing the "Ole" song.

Holman W. Jenkins Jr. gets it right

I can't link to this morning's Journal but all I can say is thank God there is one sane person on the staff there. Check out the article by Holman W. Jenkins Jr. on the Op-Ed page. Money quote:

"We suspect in time it will be seen that he temptation of backdating flowed primarily not from the desire of top executives to increase their own pay (there are easier ways to do that) but to take advantage of of employee preference for `in the money' options in an extremely competitive market for talent."

Amen, HWJJr. And may Buddha bless you with much prosperity.

Meanwhile however the other dicks on the Journal are still savaging us. Douchebags on A3 carp that our review board wasn't really independent. Then Lee Gomes (of Adams Family fame?) on B1 does one of his wise-man-of-the-Valley handwringing oh-what-a-shame pieces. Funny how guys who never built a company or worked at a real job can have loads of opinions about how to do it. Keep that in mind when you're reading the Journal. That's all I'm gonna say. Peace out.

R.I.P., Ray Noorda

Rest in peace, Ray Noorda.
O Father of Netware, you
enabled millions
to connect locally.
Until Microsoft crushed you.
Bastards!
Jon Ive says you were a Mormon.
A bit unkind of him, in my
opinion. In your later
years you created eHarmony
which helped even more people connect.
That, I think, was your great gift
to the world.

Caption contest

Since it's Tuesday and all. Have at it, dudes. Free fake Mac Pro to the funniest entry.

News flash: YouTube hires new mascot

Note to self: Have someone in Apple research do a Venn diagram comparing current Google shareholders with circa 2000 shareholders in Excite@Home and Pets.com. My bet is it's the exact same frigtards. Day-trading dentists, and mental patients who have gained access to computers. Go, bull market, go!

Poem for the day

This was my favorite poem during my brief time at Reed. Seems appropriate today.

OZYMANDIAS of EGYPT

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Not to pee on everyone's shoes, but ...

Just for giggles I did some reading on Wikipedia. (Have you heard of this site btw? It's totally amazing.) Here's some food for thought:

In December 1998 Excite was in serious merger negotiations with Yahoo! Inc. in an agreement to purchase the Excite portal for a price between $5.5 billion and $6 billion.

On January 19, 1999, Excite was acquired by @Home Network; the largest high speed cable Internet service provider. The $6.7 billion merger became one of the largest mergers of two Internet companies ever.

Yes, compared to Excite@Home, GooTube seems almost prudent. But it's not. Trust me.

One bright side to GooTube deal

Is that the ever-prescient Om Malik on Friday predicted here that the deal wouldn't happen, titling his post "Fuggedaboutit." What a wired-in Valley insider you are, dude! I mean, obtain a clue. The "rumor" was "leaked" to goose Google stock and pay for the deal. Duh. Who are you talking to out there? Whoever it is, stop talking to them. Now Om says here he will lose 40 pounds as a kind of penance. Dude, I hate to tell you, but your belly ain't the reason you keep getting these things wrong. (Hint: look a little higher.) And, um, 40 pounds is only going to get you about halfway to where you need to be. (Call me and I'll share some macrobiotic tips and exercises. Like the "push-away," as in "push away from the friggin table, dude," and the "hold-on," as in, "Hold on, you don't need to eat the entire pie in one sitting.") Please note also that ever-humble and soooo-deep-insidery Om counts himself among the "losers" on the GooTube deal. Yes, it's a tragic black mark on your otherwise perfect record. Ahem. And Om, shame on you for trying to drag Mark Cuban into the loser pen with you. Blockhead just said that only a moron would buy YouTube. He was right. Only question that remains is who are the real morons: Google management, or the dumb-ass shareholders who leapt with joy over this?

But wait, there's a McNealy angle

My sources tell me that on Friday after the "leak" broke on the GooTube talks, Scooter began frantically making calls to Sun's bankers wanting to know why Sun wasn't competing for YouTube. Bankers informed him that Sun doesn't have enough money. "We're looking for someone to buy us, remember?" is how one guy put it. McNealy, undeterred, insisted that by buying YouTube, Sun could make itself a more attractive acquisition target. Bankers informed him that it's not like buying condos in East Palo Alto and flipping them, there's a little more to it than that. No matter. McNealy started calling around trying to get Chad Hurley's cell phone number so he could talk to him directly. Schmidt got wind of this and called Scooter and was like, Dude, what the frig are you thinking? McNealy goes, Look, we put the dot in dotcom. Squirrel Boy goes, Scott, that was like a lifetime ago. Scott goes, That was only six friggin years ago. Eric goes, Wow. You're right. Six years. Jesus, Scooter, you really drove that baby off a cliff, didn't you? McNealy barges on saying he wants to compete for YouTube. Schmidt put McNealy on speakerphone so that all the lawyers and bankers in the room could hear him ranting. They all burst out laughing. McNealy said "Frig you guys" and hung up.

BTW, the photo up above is a recent "Scott Spotting" entrant sent in from one of our Apple guys. Turns out his little sister is taking a typing course at the community college in Aptos, and guess who's in there learning how to type? Scooter told the instructor he'd spent years having his secretary print out his emails and then dictating his responses for her to type up. But now that he's on the job market again he figures he'd better learn how to do it himself. He's up to thirty words a minute with only fifteen mistakes, on days when he's sober. Said he's signed up for an AOL account, and he's created a MySpace page. Worse yet, apparently he's hitting on everything that moves, including the instructor, and he's still using the "I know Bill Gates" line, or if the girls are younger, he says, "I know the Google guys." As our employee's little sister (a target of a Scooter bombing) put it: "Ew."

Google v. Microsoft

Does anyone else think that perhaps this GooTube deal is all part of some Microsoft master plan? That, like, maybe Microsoft jumps into these things and drives up the prices and forces Google to spend huge amounts of money on ridiculous acquisitions? Like when they "fought" over AOL? I know it's easy to just laugh at the idea of Microsoft losing deals. But let's think about this. They don't "lose" for lack of money. And I don't think guys like Chad Hurley really are so religiously anti-Microsoft that they wouldn't sell to them. Ergo (that's Cantonese for "therefore") Microsoft is getting involved, then pulling out of these things. Are they trying to bleed Google or something? Could it be that the real celebrating took place in Redmond this weekend?

Maybe I'm giving the Evil Empire too much credit. But I've been competing against these evil bastards all my life, and I've learned one thing: Never rule them out. And never underestimate their smarts.

If I had to guess, I'd say Mr. Bill thinks we're in the very first inning of a long ballgame, and he's not freaking out too much. Yet.

Unsafe at any speed

Once again someone shows how shockingly unsafe a Windows PC is. Yet people keep buying them.

Why, people? Why?

So Squirrel Boy called me

And he's all pumped and psyched, saying, We got em! We got em! He's like the idiot at the auction who gets bumped and bumped by a team of shills and ends up paying a million bucks for a painting of dogs playing poker. Honestly, Google just has way too much money and is throwing it around like sailors on shore leave. Then again, if they pay in Google stock they're not really playing with real money anyway. Especially since shares went up like nine bucks on Friday after Schmidt leaked that they were in talks with YouTube. In other words, the market said, What's that Squirrel Boy? You want to buy a profitless easy replicated video Website? Well, sure, Eric, here's your money, go for it! Old Eric ain't as dumb as he is ugly.

You know what they call money around Google? They call it GoogleBux. Like: Sure I paid too much. But I paid with GoogleBux. That's like 10x the value of real money. So who cares? True story (or maybe this is an urban myth going around the Valley): A certain GoogleNerd walked into a Mercedes dealership to buy a new S-Class sedan, and offered twenty-five grand above MSRP in order to avoid any "bidding wars." Salestard, stunned at first, quickly recovered and wrote up the paperwork.

It's official -- we're in a bubble

First we had Yelp as a sign of the apocalypse. Then the frightening rise of Michael Arrington and Om Malik. Now the GooTube deal. Note that Microsoft stayed clear of this. Why? Cause Bill may be evil, but he ain't stupid. The technology underneath YouTube is trivial. Any of us could hack it together in a week. Bill is waiting. Let others go out and make mistakes. Then he'll scoop in later and copy it. I'm starting to think we are heading toward another really ugly time.

YouTube "talking" to Google

Ya right. Nice to see Chad Hurley of YouTube knows how to learn from his elders and has taken my advice on how to string Mr. Bill along. You go, Chad. You go.

So Charles Manson calls

And he goes, Look, before you sign on with the Muslims at least give our frat a listen to, okay? Fact is, you’re gonna get a lot of offers to rush just about every frat there is, we know that, you’re a popular guy. So the question is, Which of these groups offers you the best selection of opportunities? I’d like you to consider our little brotherhood. We’ve got great food, snacks available 24x7, and I think you’ll agree our living quarters are a wee bit nicer than what you see on the average floor. Thing is, I’m getting old, and I’m tired, and I’m looking for someone to take over. And by the way don’t you ever tell anyone I said that or I’ll slit your fucking throat and bathe in your blood you fucking pig I swear I’ll do it. Um, sorry. Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yeah. The leadership question. Fact is, I been watching you, Jobso. You’re good. You’re very good. You’ve got the whole cult thing down. Nice beard, too, by the way. And the Zen thing. Super touch. Question is, Can you make people kill for you? I think you can. You’ve just got to reach down inside yourself and find that little inner demon. You know he’s in there. Oops, gotta go. Pigs are going around rounding up the cell phones. Look don’t give anyone this number okay? You promise? Then say it! Say it out loud and promise me you miserable scumfuck or I swear I’ll take the form of a bird and fly out of this place in the middle of the night and attack you in your sleep and gouge your fucking eyes out. Oh man. Sorry. Gotta go. Sorry. Love you too. Bye.

So DeShaundre X calls

And says, Steve, all you need to do is to convert to Islam. We’ll take you in, don’t worry. And we'll protect you. You’ll see when you get here. Such inner peace. As-Salamu Alaikum, my brother.

So John Coffey calls

And he says, You know what, you looking mighty good in them jeans, there, boy. Just kidding. I’m a gentle giant. Oh, gotta go. My little pet mouse just done died on me again. Gotta bring him back to life. See ya soon. Don’t bother packing soap, I’ll just leave a bar on the floor for you.

So Nelson Mandela calls

And he goes, My dear friend I suppose now you wish you had never made those comparisons of yourself to me. A little too close for comfort as you say. Well it is not so bad. Try to pray when they are beating you. Or think about the women you will attempt to bone when you are released. And bring a good book. Something you can read over and over and over again. One of the Harry Potters would be good, preferably the last one which is very long so will occupy more of your time. Though Sorcerer's Stone remains my favorite. I know. I'm too sentimental.

So Lynndie England and her creepy boyfriend call

And they’re like, Ya know, We’ve done some bad stuff in our time, but come on. Backdating options to boost your returns and thereby incrementally diminishing the value of stock held by average shareholders? You make us puke, Mr. Macintosh. And oh, by the way, everybody in here says the Zune is gonna kick the iPod’s butt. We’re all putting them on our Christmas gift lists.

So Ted Kaczynski calls

And he’s like, Um, look, I know I wrote all that anti-technology stuff, but I’m going nuts in this place. They call it Supermax, so I figured it’s gonna be some kind of wicked-ass department store like a Wal-Mart Supercenter or a Big K where you can get groceries and golf clubs and inflatable swimming pools. But you know what? You can’t get shit in this place. This whole “super” appellation is a total misnomer. So look, if you’re coming to Florence, could you bring old K-Dawg a video iPod loaded up with, I don’t know, a couple of seasons of Dancing with the Stars, or some episodes of that new racially segregated Survivor? I heard the Asians kicked ass. Big surprise.

So Suge Knight calls

And he’s like, Bro, I know you musta heard all that shit about how scary it is inside and all the shit that goes down inside. Well let me just tell you, bro, it ain’t like that at all. That’s just shit people make up to be scary or whatever. Truth is, all you gotta do is this. First day you’re in, you meet your cellmate, and you just decide right then and there, Do you wanna be the husband, or do you wanna be the wife? What’s that? You wanna be the husband? Okay, cool. That’s fine. No problem. No just come on over here and suck your new wife’s dick. Ha! Punk!

So Fred Anderson calls

And he goes, You bastard. You think I’m taking the fall for you? I’m gonna roll, bitch. You know I will. Look at this place. There isn’t a prison built that can hold the Fredinator. Damn. Hey, get your hands off me! I’m serious! Hey! Where’s my lawyer? Where’s my friggin lawyer?

So Mark Hurd calls

And goes, I hear nothing! I see nothing! I know nothing!

So Pattie Dunn calls

And she says, Have you considered the chemo excuse? My lawyer calls it the “chemo schemo.” Buys you at least a year before they have a trial, he says. Think about it, honey. Now I gotta go meet with some DOJ folks and spill the beans on Mark Turd. Adios.

So Ken Lay calls

And he’s like, Steve, four words: Stage. Your. Own. Death. I’ve got friends in D.C. (*cough* Cheney *cough*) who can do this for you. Use the old bad ticker routine, then a quick cremation and bingo, you’re out of the country before anyone starts getting suspicious. Tahiti is amazing, Steve. I should have done this years ago, that’s all I can say.

So Martha Stewart calls

And she goes, Steve, it’s not so bad, seriously. Here’s what you do. First day you’re in, when you go to mess hall, find the biggest, meanest, scariest bitch on the floor, the one everybody else is afraid of. Then go right up to her – don’t hesitate – and jam a fork her in her friggin eye and yank it out of her skull. Works like a charm. You’ll spend the rest of your time knitting and baking chocolate chip cookies. No hassles. Also helps if you look good in denim. Luckily I do.

:(

I don't get it. Bill Gates foists Windows off on the world and remains a free man. I give the world OS X, the iMac, and the friggin iPod, I save Apple from what looked like certain death, and yeah, okay, I get compensated for that, and now they wanna throw me in Folsom Prison with Johnny Cash and throw away the key. What the frig? Well I'm sure you've seen the story. It's all over the news. We're trying to put a brave face on things, but I'll tell you the truth, everyone is freaking the frig out. We've got the whole company in lockdown. Last night some of our PR people started trying to escape from the compound. We had to Taser two of them who got halfway up the electric fence. Man oh man. I was up all night, couldn't sleep. Tried to meditate but couldn't find my still center. The one-button phone is a disaster. So far can all you can do is call the operator. Friggin designers. Damn! Do I have to do everything for them? Why am I even paying these people? Ellison won't return my calls. I've left about fifty messages on his machine. I know you're there, Larry. You dick. Fred's gone from the board and now everyone has figured out why Squirrel Boy got added last month. I'm probably next. I'm just sitting here waiting to get the call from Jerry York. Whatever. I don't even care. Fact is I'm halfway ready to just quit and let these frigtards go back to making Newtons or whatever other crap they can dream up on their own. The iPod is running out of steam anyway. Yeah, Mossberg gave us a BJ on it in the Journal yesterday, but come on. The guy practically works for us. Having Walt Mossberg review Apple products is like letting your mom grade your SATs. Man oh man. Zune is gonna crush us. That peer-to-peer feature is gonna be huge. Don't tell anyone I said that. But it's true. I spent some time watching the spycam feed from our iPod lab yesterday. Bunch of our young engineers were playing with some Zunes that we managed to steal in China. They were all sitting around, snickering like Beavis and Butthead, going, Whoa. Whoa. And giggling. They were friggin giggling. Like a pack of friggin schoolgirls. I know that giggle. Last time I heard it was when we were prototyping the first Nano. That was a loooong time ago. Damn you, Zune! Damn you to hell. And you too, SEC lawyers. Especially you.

New Yelp superhero: Pube Face

Do you like my chin patch? It was inspired by a dancer at the Mitchell Brothers. Or was it the Lusty Lady? Damn I can't remember cause I'm sooooo wasted and having soooo much fun out here in the suuuuuper coooool Bay Area, duuuuude! Whew! Who wants to go to Tahoe? No, I mean right now! Right fucking now, dude, I will soooo do that! I will just get in my "Too Fast Too Furious" Civic, flip on the purple neon running lights and bad-ass it over the Bay Bridge at like a hundred and twenty, I am soooo serious, just totally!

Thanks again to our dear friend Mitchell Aidelbaum, aka Maximum Mitch. M to the A-izzle, bro.

Much love to Jeremy Levine of Bessemer Ventures, yo

Hot Asian lezbo chicks were making out and grabbing ass. Ethnic looking dudes were chugging Grey Goose in elevators. Jeremy Levine of Bessemer, I likes da way you roll, dawg. One hunnert percent classy.

Best of all, my favorite wigga K-Fed was in da house, yo.

Sadly, Bike Helmet Girl missed the bash. And Big Mama Gummy Bear is rumored to have been out having more gum surgery.

All photographs courtesy of the massively talented Mitchell Aidelbaum.

Obviously a Dell user

This bad boy's real name is Todd, and he grew up in Grosse Point, Michigan but tells everyone he's from Detroit. His dad is a top exec at GM and very disappointed in old Todd, who lives in Potrero Hill, works at Staples and has changed his name to to Sat'n -- "Yeah, that's with an apostrophe instead of the second `a,' but it's pronounced `Satan.'" He's got a tongue and he knows how to use it, both on dudes and on chicks.

And, um, isn't that chick the same hot Asian who was assaulting chicks in the other photos? This girl knows how to party.

Disgusting photos courtesy of amateur pornographer Mitchell Aidelbaum who reports three new cases of genital warts were acquired as a result of this party, all from the same certain Miss You-Know-Who. A new record for Yelp!

Hot damn, yo! The Yelptards is back!

And throwin down bigtime yo. Yes folks it's true. Those moronic, drunken, rug-munching, Web 2.0 posers-slash-losers-who-think-they're-soooo-hiphop-cool, those utterly San Francisco hard partying kids have struck again, with a an "Elite" Yelptard party at the Bubble Lounge. Once again the debauchery was captured for posterity by the talented Mitchell Aidelbaum, who is now calling himself "Maximum Mitch." See the whole party here on the Flickr page of Maximum Mitch.

And yes, I'm pretty sure that's Make-out Girl from the last party. Right?

UPDATE: The girl in the original photo insists she is NOT Make-Out Girl from the last party; and asks that I take down her photo. KK, I got your email. Peace.

(And KK? You might want to contact Mitchell Aidelbaum aka Maximum Mitch. He's the Yelptard who took that embarrassing photo of you and put it on his flickr page to promote the wild Yelptard lifestyle. It's still there on his page, where anyone can see it, just FYI.

Vista: A national day of mourning

So Microsoft is going around telling people how like a bazillion million business users will be adopting Vista by the end of next year. By "adopting" I guess they mean "forced to use this POS operating system by their despotic corporate overlords."

You know what? I weep for these people. And I've come up with an idea. If/when Vista actually ever ships, I propose we hold a national day of mourning for all those poor souls who will be forced to use it. Remember, these are our family members. Our neighbors. Our elderly relatives who will buy PCs at Circuit City and then get home and start calling us, asking us why their frigtarded machines won't work. (By the way, the correct answer to that last question is, "I don't know, Grandpa. I use a Mac. Maybe you should too. You cheap bastard.")

I'm thinking black armbands, candlelight vigils. Maybe a million-man march. I'm also personally planning to spend whatever amount of money it takes to make sure that every Greenpeace office in the world is outfitted with shiny new Vista-running Dells. Since they're so great and all.

Anyone else have ideas? Please share.

Shame about that bird-watching hut, Greenpeace

You know what to do. Pull down the site. Trust me, things can get worse. A lot worse.

Caption contest

Send in your best ideas. Free fake Nano to the winner.

Dude, I am soooo wasted

"Geez, and I thought Republicans were all just a bunch of old stiffs with sticks up their asses."
"No, only some of us."

Folks this is a real shot taken at the 2004 Republican National Convention. See here for more pix of this Foley-worshipping teenager being mauled by right-wingers including Ann "Cougar" Coulter.

The kid's actual caption under the above photo reads: "US Congressman Mark Foley generates excitement on the floor!" Um, right. And not just on the floor, I'll bet. But on the bathroom sink, kitchen counter, rear pew of a Roman Catholic church. You get the idea.

Read the whole thing to see how much this kid adores Mark Foley. Be sure to check out the other pix of Junior posing with unnaturally suntanned middle-aged male Republicans.

Money quote:

My Name is Anthony Bonna [shurely shome mishtake, Ed.] and I'm reporting for duty: to the Republican National Convention- that is. The Tribune has suggested that I begin by telling you a little bit about myself. A 17 year old senior at Saint Lucie West Centennial High School, I first became interested in politics during George W. Bush's 2000 campaign for President. After the election, State Representative Gayle Harrell (R-81) gave me the opportunity to serve as her Page in Tallahassee. There, I met Allen Miller who served as a mentor and assisted me in forming a Teenage Republican Club in the County. I served as the club's Chairman from 2002-2003. In September of 2003, I began my nine-month appointment as a Congressional Page for the US House of Representatives, nominated by Congressman Mark Foley (R-16). Enough about me- on to the convention!

My God. You couldn't make this stuff up.

Greenpeace: The Story Behind the Story

Let me fill you in on how Greenpeace operates. Here's what they original asked us. They approached us about a year ago and wanted to give us some big lifetime achievement award and do all this joint advertising with us. We had their director and all these other bad-smelling European people right here in Cupertino working with our marketing folks, telling us we were like the greatest company in the world.

But then the issue of money came up. Turned out they wanted us to pay for the whole thing. Like, buy an award from them. Which in itself is no big deal, Gartner and IDC do this all the time.

But with Greenpeace the amount of money was just ridiculous. It was like 10% of our revenues. Basically, a Greenpeace tax on Apple's business. I told them look, if you're gonna run a shakedown, at least be fair. Parasite can't destroy the host, it's basic biology. But they wouldn't budge. They're Europeans after all. Look what they've done to their own companies. Sucked them dry with taxes. Now there's nothing left over there so they're looking to the States and shaking us down instead.

So I told them to shove it up their bunghole. Next thing I know, instead of getting some big Greenpeace award, they tell us they're launching this anti-Apple website to tell the world how evil we are.

About a month ago, when they finally had the website put together, they sent us a prototype and gave us one last chance to pay up. If we did, they wouldn't launch the website. We told them we couldn't afford to just slice away 10% of revenues. So up goes the website.

Folks, just letting you know how these a-holes operate, so you can make up your own minds.

A note from "Apple Hellas"

Just got email from this dude named "Marios Hatzelas" in Greece who asks that you all check out his websites. His email is as follows:

Hello

Hello.
I do not know if you are fake or real
Please help with that.

http://www.wewantapplegreece.com/

http://discussions.apple.com/message.jspa?messageID=3239236#3239236

Thank you

Marios Hatzelas

Marios, to answer your question, Yes, I am real. And I have passed your request to our retail division. I want to keep you Grecians happy. Calamari.

--Steve.

(BTW to you Americans who don't speak any language other than English, "calamari" means "good day" or "hello" in Grecian.)

How I spent my Sunday afternoon

Greenpeace, I'm warning you. Take down the friggin attack site and apologize for your slander against the Apple family, or the slaughter continues.

Mike Moeller, you've passed the test

Says here that HP installed key-logging software on the machine of head PR guy Mike Moeller and read his AOL instant messages. They even sent a goon to track him around a trade show and report back on his conversations. And this guy is still flacking for HP. My God. I love it.

One question: Where do they make this model of robot and how can I place an order for, say, ten thousand of them?

Mike Moeller, you are exactly the kind of high-integrity, independent-thinking individual we need in the Apple public relations department. Can you lie about anything and convince people you are telling the truth? Can you call reporters, including people who consider you a friend, and say, "You're going to look stupid if you print that story." Sure you can.

Mike, you'll love it here. Better food than HP, and better pay, and very little actual work for PR people to do except to pick up the phone and say, "We have no comment." Heck, we'll even let you grandstand a little bit and look like you're quitting HP in a huff. We'll leak it that you're secretly furious, and then when the idiot reporters call you, you can say that you think HP is a great company and you're only leaving because this is such a great opportunity and you know how it looks but that's not how it is, you have the highest admiration for Mark Hurd, and beyond that you have no comment. (And then in six months when you quit because I'm such a screaming asshole, I'll make it look like we fired you and Katie will leak to Valley "we'll print anything" Wag that you were scamming on your expenses and banging one of your direct reports and taking sex trips to Italy on the company dime. Strictly speaking that's not something you can be fired for at Apple, though it is at other companies, or so I'm told. But don't worry about that for now.)

Wait by the phone. Katie Cotton will be in touch. She's freshly hypnotized and doing my bidding once again. I've had her under for three weeks now and this time I don't intend to bring her back out. She's been doing a great job running our guard towers and machine gun turrets, and fielding calls from reporters, reading from the hypno-script that I wrote for her. (We just pull a string in the back of her head. Jon Ive designed the implant and it is sooo elegant.) This week Katie will be distributing helmets, flak jackets and AK-47s to our entire marketing-communications staff and leading target shooting classes in the new rifle range behind Building 12. We've hired real Marine rifle instructors, including that guy from Full Metal Jacket. (He's expensive, but worth it.) Targets include pictures of Greenpeace directors, SEC lawyers and Wall Street Journal reporters. Dude, you will sooo love it here, I swear.