Netflix isn’t the only organization imploding upon itself from outside mainstream pressure this past week, nosediving kamikaze style into the entertainment business. Marc and I are splitting out into separate websites as well in a very similar style. Much like the aforementioned company, Marc is going to be delivering quick hits to you early and often through the power of the web-o-tubes. I, on the other hand, will continue to mail it in, throttling a service you’re questioning whether you need anymore yet sluggishly hold onto out of sheer laziness.

Complimenting both the audience and my own writing skills will clearly be the focal point of our new business plan.

We’re insistent on driving this this rickety ass wagon directly forward (and right off the cliff ahead). We’ve provided you some laughs (3 and a half by my count) over the years and we think we can streamline our pop culture references for those who happen to drunkenly wander into the dark alley that is our comedic shanty town.

I’m going to miss Marc’s hoo-ha (in the straightest way possible).

Naming Conventions
We weren’t going to break up the Concentrated from the Awesome (you don’t split up the children). The only fair way seemed to be pistols at dawn for rights to title of the blog, but Marc felt that living in NYC gave me an unfair advantage in terms of firearms. Instead we did the exact opposite – pissing contest at dusk. Despite my having a good 50 lbs on him, he managed to keep the naming rights. Color me impressed. I’ve instead settled on Diluted Okay-ness.

Athletics
After 14 hours of trading off between Madden impressions and reenacting Al Pacino’s speech in Any Given Sunday, Marc talked his way into keeping sports and all sports related media. Baseball, Football, Hockey, you name it, is in Marc’s territory now. He then went on to bounce a basketball off my head and ask me to cry.

Van Damme
A hotly contested issue, how do you share such comedic, action packed, silver screen gold? Originally we mentioned figuratively chopping him up like a bucket of KFC where “you get the legs, I got the muscles and those piercing eyes” until our significant others began to seriously question our sexual preferences. At gunpoint, Marc won all his action movies except for Street Fighter and the one dancing scene from Kickboxer.

Time Wasting
Marc would get lollygagging, tomfoolery, buffoonery, capering, clowning, fooling, rough-housing, pratfalling, cavorting, romping, rollicking, frolicking, cutting loose, cutting up and horseplay. I would get shenanigans, goofing off, slacking, cracking, loitering, bumming, slumming, crumbumming, boondoggling, monkeying around, mulling over, milling about, daydreaming, pipe dreaming, spacing out, zoning out, dawdling, loafing, oafing, and procrastinating.

Monkeys
Chimpan-A through M for me, Chimpan-N through Z for Marc. Marc would also get poop flingers, pickpockets, and knife fighters, while I would get monkey butlers, ninja monkeys, and circus monkeys.

Video Games
Marc brought a power glove to a zapper fight. Minus the aforementioned sports media, all video games fall within my domain. I tossed him a bone and gave him the Virtual Boy and the Wonderswan. He promptly threw them right back at me.

Candy
We’ll unfortunately have to separate peanut butter from chocolate. Reese is going to be fucking PISSED at us.

Facial Hair
Marc and I had to do some wheeling and dealing to come to a consensus here. Marc’s facial prowess does give him an edge in deciding – I’ve seen the man fall asleep on the sidewalk for 20 minutes with his 5 o’clock shadow and he sanded down 4 inches into the cement. That said, I conceded all beards goatees, and van dykes to him, which includes Chuck Norris’s himself. I, in turn, get all ‘staches, including those from Mario, Tom Selleck, and Rose O’Donnells. Hitler’s kind of a mixed bag to say the least.

Zombies
We mutually agreed I’d be NY’s only hope against an undead plague when it strikes.

Politics
We were confused as to how to divide bullshit until we came to the realization neither of us could handle it all single-handed.

Jersey Shore
Legitimate claims were held by both sides to this throne (a porcelain throne most likely). Jersey is Marc’s homeland and who better to crap on them than someone from The Garden State – except most of the cast comes from Staten Island, falling under New York territory. How best to decide? Marc would give up JS rights (which has a ceiling of about 3 years, and that’s generous) for a first round pick in the next Kardashian cluster fuck, with a Lohan return-to-rehab kicker. This may in fact be the only time anyone has ever fought over (instead of with) these people.

Music
I assaulted Marc by calling him “ol’ honky” until he gave up in confusion and disgust. I get rock, jazz, blues, and rap. He got polka and country.

Simpsons references
I think I embiggen the role necessary but Marc feels he’s way more cromulent for the responsibilities they entail.

Closing up a Post in a Sensical Way
Meh.

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