Everything Blog

1. Nine Mind Blowing Flash Animations

   This list will keep you amused for hours. There are links to nine flash animations of exceptionally high quality and variety. So, whether you want to see a little bird flying back to its nest or a fantastic take on online shopping, this is the list for you.

2. Free Music Websites

   If music be the food of love, play on! This fantastic list offers you a huge choice of websites that provide, in one way or another, music to you ears. Whether you are planning a party, want to discover new artists or just need to find that song from the eighties, then this list will give you hours of pleasure.

3. Indian Words in the English Language

   Not a lot of people know that there are many words in the English language that have their origins in India. Many new ideas were “discovered” by the British colonials that made up the Indian Raj, and these very quickly found their way in to the language. Here, discover some of these words and see how India spiced up the English language!

4. Diseases Trasmittable From Animals to Humans

   Not for the squeamish or faint hearted! Many diseases make the leap from animals to humans and these often prove to be the most devastating. This list covers the usual suspects like The Black Death, otherwise known as Bubonic plague, to others that you probably won’t have heard of, but will certainly send a shudder down your spine!

5. English Hilarity

   English is a difficult language to learn, as anyone who has attempted it will tell you. This list presents photographic evidence gathered from around the globe that bears this truth out hilariously. If you want a crack sandwich or just looking for somewhere to place your poisonous and evil rubbish, then this list is for you!

6. Heroism in the Midst of an Earthquake’s Aftermath

   The Chinese earthquake and its aftermath has been the focus of world attention in 2008. Many people have committed acts of heroism, large and small, and this list will leave you with a tear in the eye. If you feel a little jaded, this list of heroic deeds will restore your faith in human nature.

7. Strange Chocolate Concoctions

   

   Some people love chocolate so much it becomes a necessity rather than a luxurious treat. Many will go to any lengths to savor the taste of their favourite food. This list presents some of the stranger uses that chocolate has been put to – from sushi to dresses. Absolutely choc-tastic!

8. Road Signs

   Sometimes you need to do a double take when you drive past a road sign, sometimes even a triple take. This photographic list of road signs might even make you do a quadruple take, if such a thing exists! A great list which will make you scratch your head and wonder why people don’t think twice before they do things. Or three times, or even maybe four.

9. Weird Diseases

   This list of weird and not so wonderful diseases may have you ringing up your Doctor’s surgery after a few minutes. Another list not for the faint hearted, this list introduces you to – with photographic evidence – such strange illnesses as exploding head syndrome and Jerusalem syndrome. Bizarre.

10. Weird Websites

    Click on the links in this list to discover websites that will take your breath away in terms of their overall weirdness. There is the rotten site, which is truly utterly gruesome and one which you must chant out loud while surfing. If you have ever wondered what happens to those missing socks of yours, find the answer on this list!

1. No one names them based on their breed because no one wants to call them by a foreign name like “Sergei”: Chills: The Coolest Dog Ever
2. Because couples can be gay sometimes with their lovey-dovey-ness, they get blamed for things like letting go unexpected farts: So You Farted in His Bed
3. Since they’re known as man’s best friend, they get fed alcohol a lot just because people want to see if they’ll get drunk like the average man: Party Barge: The True Story of Noah’s Ark
4. The coolest ones always have the coolest names because they come from something stupid, yet awesome: The Rock God Proclaimeth: Led Zeppelin, “Black Dog”
5. They get back at humans for all the cruel things they’ve had done to them by barking nonstop extremely early in the morning: Qing Fo, The Chinese Squid Woman
6. If they work with the cops, they’re more dangerous than the actual cops: The Ping Pong Pile of Shit
7. There’s actually such things as a weiner dog: Sarah’s Valentine’s Day Disasters
8. In most cases, they look exactly like their owners: Cat vs. Dog Owners: A Scientific Analysis
9. In reality, they’re the greatest pimps in the world because they get people to walk THEM: The Real World DOES Suck
10. For some reason, people think they’re the perfect name for a bar or pub: Weekly Questions at the Bar

1. If you thought popularity didn’t exist in college then you’re wrong, because every student thinks they have the ULTIMATE cell phone: Cellular Deficiency
2. They make a great high-tech mixed drink stirrer: Top 10 Dorm Room Mixed Drink Stirrers
3. Combined with Asians and cars, they can create the ultimate killing machine: Cell Phones Challenge Asian Females for Accident Risk
4. People don’t pick up other people using a cell phone so instead it’s become the quickest way to end a relationship: How to Call a Girl
5. If you don’t pay your bill after six months, cell phone companies have the power to turn you into a front-page news story: Exploding Cell Phones to Users: “You’re Blowing Up, Dude”
6. Due to the number of accidents they’ve caused, they have become more important than driving safely and watching the road: Stop Sneezing: A Deadly New Research Study
7. Like alcohol, you have an ongoing love-hate relationship with them: Cell Phones: The Gift and the Curse
8. They can be so personal to you that sometimes when you’re not carrying it around, you feel naked: The Beginner’s Guide to Jail
9. You can leave annoying voicemail messages, like pretending that you actually just picked up the cell phone and then noting ten seconds later that you’re not home: The Hierachy of Communication
10. When someone’s cell phone goes off in a crowded environment, life turns into a game of “Where’s Waldo?”: Printer Assholes, Cell Phones and Medicinal Alcohol

1. Announcing you have one while at an airport can cause instant chaos: How to Deal with College Finals
2. People have resorted to them so they can be cool for once: Halloween Disaster
3. When combined with electricity, they can be a criminal’s worst nightmare: 911: Some Crew-Cutted, Beefed-Up, Ex-Marine Just Fired a Tazer Gun at Me
4. There are actually people out there who get a rush from firing a machine gun: Viva Las Vegas
5. People will shoot at the most random things with a BB gun: The Off-Campus College House: Episode 2
6. It’s part of the name of a once legendary band that just sucks ass now: Rock ‘n Roll Won’t Ever Die
7. Their name alone has made even staples sound badass: Soaking Up the Fumes
8. If you thought humans were bad, then think again, because they’re extremely dangerous when in the hands of a monkey: My Personal Helper Monkey
9. Kids these days don’t use the water version anymore: Keep Your Chin Up
10. Chuck Norris’ blood type is AK-47: Anti-Chuck Norris Facts

• Chris Brogan
• Kent Newsome
• Mathew Ingram
• Brian Solis
• Liz Strauss
• Doc Searls
• Brian Clark (CopyBlogger)
• Darren Rowse (ProBlogger)
• Dan Schawbel
• Chris Cree
• Jeff Pulver

Zoomdoggle

Incredibly, though there’s always been fun stuff online, there wasn’t actually a blog ABOUT fun before my very own Zoomdoggle. It’s a blog about fun, that’s fun to read, and should feel like your passport to fun (fun stuff to do, buy, think about, or play with). It’s also the home of such original fun ideas as, well, the fun idea machine, the fun idea text, and stranger love letters project – the list is endless. The best bit of all? It’s served hot and fresh 8 times per day, once for every hour you’re trapped at work. When was the last time you made a play date?

1. UtopiAD
2. Allcommunity.com
3. BePaid.com
4. ePIPO
5. ValuePay.Com
6. getpaid4.com
7. MValue
8. PrizeWindow.com
9. DesktopDollars.com
10. Cash Surfers

10 Songs that will get your pumped
Top 10 cover songs
Top 10 songs that influenced the 90s
Top 10 Raggae Songs
Todays Top 40 Picks
Top 10 Music Lists
TenMojo

Interesting Pile
tenmojo
TopTenz
TIME Magazine
Top10List
The Top Tens
Brain Of Brian
Fun Jokes
Aneki
Top 10 Blogs (blog)

The following pieces of writing are excerpts from the journals of Frank Malinowski, a men’s room attendant from Queens, New York.

Mr. Malinowski compiled a diary throughout his entire career, never intending it to be made public. However, when young journalist Charles Koontz interviewed Mr. Malinowski, whilst studying the decline of the bathroom attendance occupation in 1984, he requested the rights to the diaries. At first, Mr. Malinowski was reluctant. However, after a few weeks of arduous persuasion from Koontz, he gave in.

These diaries are to be considered a historical landmark, an in-depth look into a little known occupation, and, for Mr. Malinowski, a release of the stress that was built on the trials and labors of the toilet attendance profession.

Mr. Malinowski has since retired. After his retirement, he was replaced by an electric hand dryer. Koontz, after speaking to Mr. Malinowski in 1991, asked him how he felt about the replacement, to which the then 78-year-old responded, “I suppose I ought to feel badly about it, and I would, if that machine weren’t better than me at every aspect of the job.”

The following diary entries are taken from the month of February, 1975.

* * *

“There’s nothing finer in life than a clean toilet.”

-J. Edgar Hoover

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 3, 1975

Today was a lonely day. I stood in solitude in a perfectly clean bathroom for what must have been about eleven hours. It was sad—being alone with my thoughts, that is. Then, at quitting time, I realized I had accidentally locked myself in when I had arrived that morning.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1975

“I’m sorry, sir. That young man earlier, he took all the towels,” I said. He just frowned angrily like I’d admitted to killing his dog.Today I decided to play a joke on the toilet users (and abusers). Basically, as well as the red waistcoat every men’s room attendant in the world is provided with, a blue waistcoat is also supplied. Looking at both of these waistcoats hung next to each other gave me an incredible idea for a gag. My plan was to wear the red waistcoat when people entered the bathroom, and then, after they entered the cubicle—if they did, of course—change into the blue before they came out. When they returned and saw me wearing a different color it was bound to result in some form of hilarity.

So, today, I went in to work and waited in the bathroom, perkier than usual, excitedly anticipating the first entrant. Then, a young man—a business man, presumably—entered, and, to my luck, went straight into one of the cubicles. I hastily changed into the blue waistcoat and waited for what was sure to be a spectacular climax to the exquisitely planned practical joke.

After a few minutes, the man left the cubicle. I stood there with a big smile on my face, desperately resisting the urge to burst into uncontrollable laughter, leaving that for after the recognition so that the man and I could laugh it up together.

He glanced at me as he walked over to wash his hands, not saying a word. Then, he slowly washed his hands, with me watching getting ever more excited. He turned to me and I dried his hands for him, and, very slightly, I started motioning downwards towards the waistcoat with my head. I would look down at the waistcoat and then back up at the man, grinning intently. He gave me a bemused expression before turning and leaving. I was disappointed, but it was early.

Keep flushing sign
Humor is the best laxative.After about twenty minutes—I had already changed back into the red waistcoat—another man, this time older, entered the room. I felt his age may have matured his sense of observation, and the thrill which I had felt at the time of the first man’s entrance consumed me once again.

The man entered the cubicle. I hastily changed into the blue waistcoat and patiently awaited his return. He left the cubicle even faster than the first man had and walked straight out of the bathroom without washing his hands or anything. He didn’t even look at me. Disheartened, but optimistic, I waited for more visitors to my white-tiled fortress.

However, the reactions of the first and second man seemed to set the tone for every single other person that entered the bathroom. They would act like the first, the second, or even a composite of the two, and nobody, not a single man, noticed the change. Nobody so much as looked at the waistcoat with a confused expression. With each man ignorant to the change, a little part of my soul would exit with them, and, by the end of the day, the practical joke had almost destroyed me. However, my mother always said, “If you ever quit at anything, ever, then I will no longer be your mother and you will no longer be my son,” so I kept going, with the intention of continuing until the bitter, bitter end.

It was around seven ‘o clock when the man entered, eight being when I leave. He was middle aged and had a spark of humor in his eyes. He was bald and wore hefty glasses like Woody Allen—a sign, I thought—and his mouth was wide as if ready to smile at any moment. His eyes were dark and he looked as if he’d had a tough day, but this look of weariness only made him look as if he needed something to cheer him up, as if a joke would suddenly transform his wide mouth into a geyser, omitting laughter in a blast both powerful and consistent.

I envisioned the practical joke in action; I pictured him in fits of laughter, I pictured him patting me on the shoulder with admiration, and I pictured him thanking me for the funniest thing he had seen in a long time. If I have ever been absolutely certain of anything in my entire life it was that this man was going to get the joke.

The excited anticipation of the morning returned. He entered the cubicle, and I switched the waistcoats with the very same enthusiasm I had had when the first man was there. I waited and I waited, the humorous tension growing and growing. He was in there for a fairly long time, about 8 minutes maybe, and when I say maybe I mean exactly because I kept glancing at my watch every thirty seconds. Then he emerged from the cubicle, slowly stepping outside, and pausing in his step while he looked at me. We stood in silence for a moment while he looked at my face, then his head slowly began to work its way down to the waistcoat. I was watching his eyes—response is always first in the eyes. They widened, and then very slowly began to change, not to happiness, however, or sheer joy… but rage—pure rage. His face began turning red and the anger radiated from him, and his whole body started trembling in its inability to control the sheer uninhibited fury. He marched over to me and grabbed me by the collar, then he tossed me on to the floor behind him, and, as I fell, I cracked my shoulder off one of the sinks and then smacked the back of my head off the tiled floor.

As I regained what little composure I could, I looked up at him. He was standing, staring down at me, the rage still vibrating through his body, his clenched fists uncontrollably shaking and his face such a red that I have never seen another man turn that shade. He was the angriest I have ever seen any human being in my entire life.

“WHAT IS THIS!?” he yelled in the kind of voice you imagine a vengeful God would speak. “WHAT IS THIS!? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?”

“I… I…. It’s a… a joke,” I managed to stutter with my wavy, fearful voice.

“YOU’RE SICK! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY SICK! YOU CALL THIS A JOKE? MESSING WITH PEOPLE’S LIVES LIKE THIS? SIR, IF THIS IS YOUR IDEA OF A JOKE THEN YOU DISGUST ME TO MY VERY CORE! PEOPLE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE KILLED, ENDED, FINISHED. NOBODY MESSES WITH LARRY SPHINX LIKE THIS—I’M A DOCTOR FOR CHRIST’S SAKE, AND YOU THINK YOU CAN TREAT ME LIKE THIS?”

“Please,” I said quietly, trying to dispel any ideas he might have about me arguing against him. “It was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“YOU’LL REGRET THE DAY YOU SCREWED WITH LARRY SPHINX, MY FRIEND. OH YES. YOU’LL REGRET IT.”

Then he paused for a moment, staring at me in a state of complete madness, as if trying to collect himself, or understand something, certainly not attempting to calm down. What I do know is, I was absolutely terrified. He then stormed out of the bathroom shouting:

“LARRY SPHINX HAS GOT FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES. OH YES. OH YES.”

And, still shouting, his voice gradually fading into nothingness, he vanished from my day, and hopefully from my life.

All I know is, I’ll never play that joke again—never.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1975

Today, when I arrived in the bathroom, there was an entire cooked chicken in one of the urinals. It was still warm. I couldn’t understand it. It was just placed neatly in there.

It saddens me to say that I ate that chicken.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1975

Today I was accosted by a young gentleman who entered the bathroom waving a gun about. I told him to put it away and he grabbed me and led me to one of the cubicles. He was Hispanic, I think, and must have only been about 21. He put the gun to my throat. I said, “I knew it. I knew when I took the job it would all end like this.”

Then he said, “Quiet, old man, I just want the cream, you know, the paper—the moolah. Hand it over, now.”

And so I told him, “But it’s only nine ‘o clock. The only money I get during the day comes from my tips. I’ve only got about four dollars over there in that saucer. You can HAVE that if you want. You could get a sandwich or something, maybe a bagel.”

“Shut up, old man.”

He knocked me down so I was sitting on the toilet staring into the bowl. Then I looked up and saw him take the four bucks. Then he took all of the towels, too.

“No,” I cried out, “not the towels. NOT THE TOWELS.”

But he was already gone.

I was pretty shaken by the whole event and stood in my spot crying for half an hour. Then, after the half an hour of weeping, a man stepped out of the cubicle next to the one where I had been struck and robbed in. He had been there the whole time. He had this big grin on his face, too. He was wearing lots of chains and had an enormous afro that, at times, scraped the ceiling.

“OOOOOOOOH,” he said. “Those toilets are comfy.”

Then he leaned close to my face and whispered, “Sometimes, at work, I go to the toilet and sit on it all day long.”

Then he yelled, “WHOOOOOO, baby.”

Then he suddenly leaned close to my face once again. “Sometimes I even drink from the toilet,” he said.

And he spun around like he was on stage. He did a little dance, presumably in celebration of his toilet excursions, and then suddenly stopped. He put his hands out and we both stood in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry, sir. That young man earlier, he took all the towels,” I said.

He just frowned angrily like I’d admitted to killing his dog. “Oh baby, hell no, you should be ashamed of yourself. You a towel man with no towels, Jack. Now that’s what I call a bad worker. Go on worker bee, fly back to your hive and cry to your queen.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. But he looked at me as if in wait for a moment, as if he was literally expecting me to fly back to some kind of hive.

Then he burst into laughter and danced out of the bathroom, spinning three hundred and sixty degrees on his heel before smoothly walking backwards out of the door.

I nearly quit today.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1975

Bathroom attendant in a tuxToday, Friday, was and always is my favorite day of the week—mainly because it’s cigar day. On cigar day, I blaze up a fine Cuban cigar, the ones I get from Higgins up the street. I light it at twelve and it usually lasts the whole hour. Today it may have lasted a little longer.

After I stubbed out the cigar, a young man entered the bathroom. I said hello but he didn’t say a thing, just went into one of the cubicles. I thought it was fair enough and slumped back against the wall, waiting for him to come out so I could attend to my duties and then relax.

But, he didn’t come out.

I kept looking at my watch, waiting fairly patiently, used to various bowel problems. But, after the wait and more wait, and, after that, even more wait, he still didn’t show. He must have been in there for about five hours. People came and went and yet he remained. I waited and waited and waited till it was eight ‘o clock and I couldn’t wait any longer. I knocked on the door and there was no reply, so, fearing that he may have choked on his own urine (I’ve seen it before and I’ll see it again) I kicked the cubicle open.

What I saw completely took me by surprise. Basically, he had managed to get a tiny little wooden stool in there, somehow, and he was sitting on it facing the toilet. On top of the toilet, of which the seat was down, he had a portable television to which he was listening through big black headphones. On the television screen, there was some kind of war film; Charlton Heston was running towards what appeared to be a group of Nazis—I don’t know, I only got to look at it for a moment, because, due to my violent entrance, the door had scraped across his back and he turned around to face me looking like a deer in headlights. He threw the headphones off, quickly shoved his hand into a baggy denim pocket, pulled out some mace and sprayed me in the face with it before sprinting out of the door and, presumably, into the night.

I’ll never know why he did what he did. But I got a free TV and some headphones, so I don’t really care.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1975

Today I diagnosed twelve cases of genital warts. And people say that this job is pointless.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1975

Today, in the bathroom, something happened that I will never forget. I was standing there reading the New York Times, smoking a cigar (it was about twelve thirty), when suddenly, in through the door, a four foot chimpanzee strolled in. It shuffled over to the urinal, unzipped its fly, and began doing what most human men do in that situation: it kept going and going before suddenly, midway through, he turned to me. He looked at me for a moment, studying my face, and then he said to me something that will remain with me till the day I die, the most beautiful thing I have ever heard and ever will hear. It was funny and tragic at the same time, and it made life make sense.

He then left.

MONDAY, FEBRURARY 24, 1975

Note: Personal studies prove that members of the Asian community spend longer on the act of urination than people of African descent. Do they hold more liquid within their exceptional bladders? Or, is it simply a level of Asian discipline that the Africans cannot compete with? These findings may eventually prove useful. Then I’ll show them. Then I’ll show everybody.

TUESDAY, FEBRURARY 25, 1975

I spent most of today leaning happily against the tiled wall reading The Koran.

It was around lunch time when the man came in. He went straight into the cubicle without a nod, and it wasn’t ‘til after about five minutes that he made a re-appearance. Watching him re-emerge, I thought of the second coming of Christ, and then wondered, whilst drying his hands, if that was sacrilegious. I ended up deciding that it was his facial hair that made me think of Christ, averting intelligently any deep contemplation of my own religious beliefs.

After drying his hands, quite perfectly I thought, he turned to me and said, “Sir, you will now dry my moustache, please.”

And I said, “Well, it’s not in my occupation, but sure. Did you use it when you were in there?”

And I motioned over to the cubicle as I began delicately drying the ‘tache. He didn’t reply to my question but I assumed I was right as the ‘tache was soaking wet. Then, after finishing, I stood back like an artist looking for the first time at a completed canvas, proud of my work. He began fingering the moustache, smoothly moving the tips of his fingers across, left then right then left then right, etc.

Then he said abruptly, “Sir, your job was not sufficient, it seems. I just found a droplet on the starboard side.”

“What are you talking about?” I replied.

“My moustache,” he shouted, “it’s still moist, man. Fix it.”

“No,” I said. “Not at all. I will not do that.”

“Fix it,” he said. “Fix it or I shall hit you. I shall hit you until you cease to live.”

It was then that the pent up rage I had been carrying within my bowels for some time emptied in a series of short bursts in which I frantically attacked his face and body with my speedy fists. It came from nowhere; before I knew it I was feeling flesh and moustache-hair collide with powerful impact against my angry, angry knuckles. He kept saying “Oof,” “Ouch” and other various cartoon-esque phrases like that.

Then I delivered the final blow, knocking him back into the wall on the opposite side of the room, when, upon hitting it, he slumped forward; he then put his hands forward to hold his weight as he fell, but they buckled under the pressure and he went down onto his face.

I then watched in silence as he slowly raised himself to his feet. When he got up he pointed at me in a violent manner before stumbling out of the bathroom yelling, “Vengeance, my friend. Vengeance shall be served. I know Larry Sphinx!”

Men’s room attendance is a violent profession.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1975

Today I made a mistake. I shamed my attendant forefathers by, as one would most likely call it nowadays, “having a go on my own urinal.” I gave in to the pressures of the world and allowed my personal desire to urinate come before my desire to serve the community as a proper and decent attendant of the men’s room.

The trouble is that using the urinal isn’t the worst part.

It was around two when I decided to do it, fulfilling my private urges and bringing shame upon the history of the occupation. I, of course, unzipped the old fly, stood in front of the old urinal, and began doing the old act (the oldest act, one might argue). And it was at that moment, around mid-leak, that a customer, a visitor to my palace, entered. The man who stood for a moment at the door may not have known the deep shame embedded in what it was I was doing, but I could tell in his eyes he understood something was wrong; and his understanding of the wrongness reflected in me, and I found I couldn’t even finish. I dried the man’s hands before he left, mustering up all the dignity that I could, but he could clearly see the tears welling up in my eyes, just as I could feel them.

Now, the future is unclear. Do I live this down? Move on with life and continue, making up for the deed with hard work and service to the men’s room; or, the other option—hari-kari (honorable suicide), the ancient tradition held in the cultures of the samurai, and, of course, the men’s room attendant. Is it the only way to find redemption?

Well, no matter what choice I make I can always remain focused on the inevitable to keep myself grounded in sanity. Time remains consistent throughout whatever crises a human must go through and I must remember this at all times. The sad month of February has drawn to a close and emerging on the blue horizon is the sad month of March. White tiles prevent the earth in all its glory from reaching me, yet I still feel in sync with the months and the seasons and the days and the minutes. I am a men’s room attendant; another inevitability I can always depend on is the men’s room, something that needs, and always will need, attending. If I decide to end it all, who will replace the urinal cakes?

* * *

The complete diary of Frank Malinowski is available in hard and soft editions under the title “Diary of a Men’s Room Attendant: Reflections from a Toilet” by Frank Malinowski, edited by Charles Koontz.