Matthew Vincent - [you] Ruined It for Everyone!

As it turns out, Jefferson was accused of seducing a close friend’s wife. And he had an affair with the very married Maria Cosway. He also had a forty-year relationship with his wife’s half-sister, a slave named Sally Hemmings. They had six children together.

Jefferson was the John Holmes of the American political sexual revolution. He paved the way for hundreds of political sex scandals throughout U.S. history. He opened the floodgates to presidential knee pads, Long Dong Silvers, madam clients, underage male pages, bastard births, restroom solicitations, parked car rendezvouses, and the mysterious deaths of countless mistresses. Thanks again!

For making a $20 ticket cost $32.50.

Ticketmaster is a ticket sales and distribution company based in West Hollywood, California. If you have never heard of it, you should really get out of the house more often. It’s the company that sells almost all concert and sporting event tickets. The company is ridiculed for its outrageous service charges and has been accused, several times, of operating as a monopoly. However, Ticketmaster simply acts as an agent that sells the tickets its clients make available. So it’s impossible to charge Ticketmaster as an illegal monopoly because they are a third-party entity. But no matter how you look at it, Ticketmaster still sucks.

Shame on you, Ticketmaster. Your greed has made nearly every concertgoer curse your name for bankrupting him. Your ridiculous charges nearly parallel the bands’ revenues. You are well hated and will undoubtedly fall at one point. And when you do, rest assured that we, the fans, will be there to kick ticket stubs in your face.

Shame on you, venues. You accept millions from Ticketmaster, allowing the company to have exclusive ticket-selling rights. You are the reason Ticketmaster can indiscriminately jack up its prices in the first place. Instead of making ticket sales a competitive business, you made it a virtual monopoly. Don’t you get enough revenue from corporate sponsorship anyway (see RIFE №004)? You too have sold your souls to the devil.

Shame on the fans. We buy the tickets. We should rise up and boycott these overpriced events! But who am I kidding? That’s never gonna happen. And besides, a picket line would just look like a ticket line anyway.

Shame on Pearl Jam too. You were so close to winning a lawsuit against Ticketmaster. Shame on you for giving up. Get better lawyers and sue them again. Forget the venues and start playing in back-yards. Then you’d be cool again.

For being too cutting-edge.

Technology is great. Just look at all of the achievements and advancements you use in your daily life. Things seem to get faster, smaller, and smarter before you can fully sign your name on the service contract—it’s crazy. But some things just DON’T need improvement. For example, Gillette now has a six-blade razor! SIX! It should come with tourniquet instructions and a panic button directly linked to 911 in case you slice any major arteries.

Hair always seems to grow in places we just don’t want it to. So people will try anything; they will cut, pluck, tweeze, Nair, wax, zap, and laser. But nothing seems to be as reliable as shaving. So we strive for a good close shave, but we don’t need six blades. It’s not like we are using Windex and a squeegee for aftershave.

When I was five, I wanted to be like my dad. And why not? He was my hero—and my hero shaved. One morning, my peach-fuzz-covered mug must’ve felt a bit too scruffy. So I lathered up all by myself. Not only was I disappointed at the non-Cool Whip flavor of the shaving cream, but I also gashed my ear and started bawling. My hero quickly came to my rescue, and after he removed the blade he taught me the safe way for a kid to shave. That was only ONE blade.

Can you imagine if it were six? I could’ve easily gotten the part of the cop that Mr. Blonde hacked up in Reservoir Dogs .

Gillette. Back off! We don’t need a razor that can shave a porcupine bare. Nor do we need a kung fu grip handle that vibrates while playing Santana/Rob Thomas songs. And we certainly don’t need a bathroom weapon either. Here’s what we want: a razor that cuts hair… got it?

For making wine look cheap.

When a waiter asks, ”Shall I unscrew it for you, sir?”, I always feel less than aristocratic.

Perhaps you have heard that cork is becoming extinct? Or that there is a shortage? Or that harvesting it harms the environment? These are all FALSE rumors. Cork comes from a tree—the bark from the cork oak tree, to be exact. This tree is NOT cut down for cork extraction; only the bark is removed. This harvesting occurs about every nine years. A cork tree’s life span is about two hundred years.

Cork oak trees provide extensive biodiversity. They protect the soil from drying out, and some wildlife even depends upon the human cultivation of these cork forests for its survival. NOT harvesting cork actually HURTS the environment.

“Cork taint” is the supposed spoiling of wine due to the use of cork. Corking, as it is also called, can be found in about 1 percent to 7 percent of bottles (depending on which study you believe). Curiously, cork taint still occurs even with the use of synthetic stoppers and screw caps. Hmmm…

Robert Ramon invented his synthetic pseudo-cork in the eighties. Keep in mind that the “decade of excess” wasn’t exactly full of bright beverage ideas (e.g., Crystal Pepsi and New Coke).

Which do you think is healthier for our planet, cork or synthetic? Robert corkscrewed us with this stupid stopper. And if a winery tells you synthetic is superior in any way, it’s bullshit; they are just being cheap bastards AND hurting the environment. We all know where you should be sticking that fake cork!

For gettin’ it on with a thirteen-year-old.

In June of 1996, thirteen-year-old Vili Fualaau was taken to the police station with his teacher, Mary Kay Letourneau, after a policeman thought something suspicious was going on with the two of them in Mary’s parked minivan. They were let go after the boy’s mother vouched for Mary. A few days later, for the first time, the teacher and pupil did the deed. Apparently, Vili won a $20 bet with his classmate for bangin’ teach. About eight months later, after having sex three hundred to four hundred times with the boy, Mary was ratted out by her husband’s cousin. Consequently, the mother of four was arrested. At that time, she was five months pregnant with Vili’s child. Since she was pregnant, the police gave her a reduced suspended sentence of six months in jail. A month after she was released, the statutory rapist got caught with Vili again in a car with the windows fogged up. Mary was sent back to prison with another bun in the oven. This time she spent six and a half years in the slammer. Now she is free and married to her youthful, but legal, beau. The licentious couple will have a great story for their grandkids!