Get Cynical

A tour of the grooviest motel in Wisconsin:

Imagine the pitch to the investors:

“It’s going to be a futuristic, state-of-the-art motel with every modern convenience from water beds to 8-tracks. The entire dining area will be covered in deep-pile pink and purple carpet. But wait – here’s the best part. It will look like an abstract sculpture of a giant turkey. We’ll bill it as a romantic getaway – and call it The Gobbler!”

Whether every excruciating detail of this complex was planned out in advance, or whether it just happened, , I don’t know. I don’t know much about this place beyond the pictures you have here. This is a brochure taken from the Hartwig Gobbler, a motel-bar-restaurant off I-94 in Wisconsin. The brochure dates from construction, which must have been in the late 60s. But I got the brochure on a trip in March of 1984, and the restaurant was as ghastly then as it is in the pictures.

Now that it’s gone, of course, we want it back.

From Serious Eats.

(via Buzzfeed)

(via DoobyBrain)

From Laughing Squid (The LS link is fine but Chatroulette Map is NSFW):

Chatroulette Map is a project that is grabbing the IP addresses of users, along with a screenshot, and then using Geo IP tools to pinpoint them roughly on the map. The site relies on the fact that Chatroulette connects users directly to each other (assumedly in an effort to save bandwidth) and in doing so exposes IP addresses. Most of the screenshots are safe and entertaining, but there are a few of those Not-Safe-For-Work ones mixed in. The site is also a great way to see a small sampling of the concentration of users around the world.

(via Waxy)

From Metafilter:

Some years ago I needed to talk to Thompson for an article. I cadged his home number from a friend of a friend, who would not give it over until after he had spent fifteen minutes warning me about how a call to Hunter was likely to unfold. Hunter will probably be drunk. Hunter will be angry, or unintelligible. Hunter will ask you to send him something odd, or send him money. Hunter will ask you to come to his house to fix something that’s broken. Hunter will almost certainly not answer your questions, but if he does he’ll do so only after shouting at you for many minutes, so just buck up and bear it. “And for god’s sake don’t dare tell him how you got his number!”

Properly prepped, I dialed the number. Hunter answered. He sounded perfectly sober. I very gingerly explained who I was and what I wanted. We then spent a very enjoyable half hour on the phone, Hunter politely answering every question. When I was done I thanked Hunter and told him how much I appreciated the interview. “My pleasure. Happy to do it. One last thing, though, before I forget.” Yes? “How did you happen to get my number?” Oh, through a friend of a friend. “Hmmmm. Well. May I ask a favor?” Of course. “Throw that goddamn number away and tell that fucking friend of a friend of yours that if he ever gives my goddamn phone number out to another sonofabitch stranger I’m going to find him and fuck his eyeballs out.”

(via Atheist Media Blog)

(via Buzzfeeds)

WANT!

(via I Watch Stuff)