Guess Who, Mother F*cker.

You love to play Guess Who? and you also love early 80's California punk, but you are pretty sure that Milton Bradley wouldn't know hardcore if it flexed its beefy neck and screamed in his general direction? Now you can have the best of both worlds.

Chart via WFMU

Here’s a transcript of a round I played with a friend.

Me: Do you have hair?
Friend: Yes. Do you have a hat?
Me: No. Is your hair black?
Friend: Yes. Are you a man?
Me: Yes. Do you enjoy free weights and listening to the Stooges?
Friend: No. Is your hair straight?
Me: Yes. Are you Bill Stevenson, drummer for Black Flag in 1983 and founding member of The Descendants?
Friend: Yes. You win.

Memoir

Donald Rumsfeld has titled his new memoir Known and Unknown, which hearkens back to this piece of wisdom that he shared during a DOD briefing on February 12, 2002.

"As we know, there are known knowns. There are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns. That is to say we know there are some things we do not know. But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don't know we don't know."

If this sounds familiar, it's because the quote was selected by Hart Seeley as part of his collection, Pieces of Intelligence: The Existential Poetry of Donald H. Rumsfeld. Perhaps you remember Slate's coverage of the story.

In other words, Rumsfeld named his memoir to commemorate a moment in his life which resulted in his being roundly mocked international in print and on TV. This has inspired me to come up with a list of potential titles for my memoir.

Zipped and Unzipped

If I'd Known You Were Native American I Wouldn't Have Sung That Song

It's Not Funny

Stop Laughing

I Mean It, Guys

You Told Him I Said That?!

That Time I Farted

McSweeney's Can Not Suck It. No, wait, I was wrong. They Can Still Suck It

Another list, another rejection. I hate myself and I want to die.

Why We Don't Do It In the Road

Cars

Rocks

Trucks

I have a headache

Getting Married, America Style

Oh, the shame! The shame!

D-Rex is eternally grateful to Ryan North and Dinosaur Comics.

Letter to a First Grader

Dear Emma,

My name is XXXXX. I hope this letter finds you well. Like you, I grew up in XXXXX but I now live in Brooklyn, which is part of New York City. New York is much bigger than XXXXX. It’s very crowded, and people walk very fast. I ride the subway to work every day and I don’t own a car. I miss driving, but I’m glad I don’t have to deal with traffic on my way to work.

I work for a book publisher. That's a company that makes books. My job is to help create book covers. To do that I have to wake up early every morning and sit in a little cube all day while people come by and bother me. For this I am poorly compensated.

From time to time throughout the work day, I pause to eye my letter opener, wondering idly what it would feel like to jam it into my hand. Sometimes I get so far as picking it up, but I am usually interrupted before I can even reach for it.

I'm sure you know this tedium, Emma. It's very much like the feeling of finishing a test early except that it never stops. No one else ever finishes the test. We all go home and when we return the next day, everyone else continues the test, and the cycle repeats uninterrupted save for the occasional moron leaning in to ask for the answer to a question they should already know.

I do this for 8 hours at a time. Remember nap time? Eight hours is like 16 nap times together.

Don't worry if this sounds boring, Emma. In this economy I would gratefully accept a position servicing bus stop drifters in exchange for an almost-living wage. And it's not all bad. The alienation that prevents me from making any lasting attachments with other people has allowed me free time to pursue my hobbies, like gun collecting. And pornography.

I've also become quite adept at sublimating my impotent rage into activities like "blogging" while maintaining an outwardly cool facade of detached amusement and knowitallism. This is called being a hipster.

Well, it's time for me to get back to work and its accompanying sense of existential horror. I don’t know if you are supposed to write back. If so, I’m curious what your favorite subject in school is and what you want to be when you grow up. Remember to pay attention and work hard in school!

Sincerely,
XXXXX

[Co-written with M. T. ]

You've Been

Wang Ganged.