Monthly Archives: October 2014

Not Knowing Who You’re Talking To

We live in an age of caller ID and ADD, so there are lots of times when you’ll end up having a conversation with somebody and you’re not quite sure who they are. I got a text this morning from a number I don’t recognize. The person mentioned that they bumped into a girl I used to work with, so I assume that it’s a coworker from the past but I have no way to be sure. I just kept on texting them back like I knew who I was talking to. I suppose I could have asked who I was talking to, but that seemed rude because this person obviously know who I was. So I just went along with it and kept asking questions about the girl the person bumped into. I had no idea who I was talking to but the person had no idea I didn’t know, so no harm, no foul. Not knowing who you’re talking to is a weird feeling, but I guess it’s better than not talking to anybody.

Critically Rated at 9/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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A Dreaming Dog

There are few things in life more amusing than a dreaming dog. Your favorite pooch will be splayed out on the floor fast asleep except for the occasional yip and soft growl. You can’t help but smile as his legs start twitching and moving, and you know that he’s running around in dreamland, chasing squirrels and barking at skateboarders. You’ll never know what he’s actually dreaming about. He could be dreaming about eating delicious people food, finally catching his tail, or winning his war with the cat. You’re golden as long as he’s not dreaming about gnawing on your face. Let sleeping dogs lie, but have your camera ready just in case he sleep runs into the wall. Then you can be a YouTube sensation like this guy.

Critically Rated at 15/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Microbeads

Microbeads are the tiny little beads that you find in various skin care products, mostly in facial scrubs. They are used to help exfoliate your skin and to clear your pores. They might make your skin look better but they are hell on the environment because they are made of plastic. Each time you wash your face you’re unleashing hundreds of plastic balls upon the world. And if you paid attention in science class, you might recall that plastic takes thousands of years to decompose. Your skin might look clean, but you’re ruining the planet. There are high concentrations of plastic in US lakes and microbeads compose up to 90% of those plastics. It’s to the point where the cosmetic industry has acknowledged that microbeads are a huge mistake and they’ve pledged to stop using them by 2019. We will see if that happens. People care about the planet, but they are way more concerned with their personal appearance. Who cares about pollution as long as you look good?

Critically Rated at 4/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Smoke Detector

A smoke detector is a device that you’ll find in most homes and businesses. It’s called a smoke detector because it detects smoke, and when it does it lets out a shrill sound to alert you to any potential fires. Smoke detectors were designed to save lives and they have saved thousands of lives. I don’t have any numbers or statistics on how many lives are saved by smoke detectors every year, but I assume that it’s a few hundred. That sounds reasonable to me. You probably have a couple of smoke detectors in your house. Half of them probably don’t work. That’s because they run on 9 volt batteries instead of a direct electrical current. Whenever the battery gets low, the machine starts beeping and chirping to remind you to put in a new battery. But you don’t have any 9 volt batteries lying around, only AA and AAA batteries like normal people. So you take out the battery just so it stops beeping and you can finally experience some peace and quiet. After a while you forget about it. Then you’re fucked if your place ever does catch on fire. Oh well, you had a good run.

Critically Rated at 6/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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400 Views

CriticallyRated.com reached a milestone today. We hit 400 daily views for the first time in our 2+ year history. That doesn’t sound too impressive, but you have to consider the fact that we don’t advertise and rely solely on word of mouth to generate traffic. We’ve slowly gathered a cult following thanks to our many readers, especially the ones who take the time to share a link. CriticallyRated.com has been a passion project for me, and it’s become one of the most rewarding things that I’ve done in life. I’ve done things that I never thought I would experience just so that I could Critically Rate it. I never claimed to be an expert on anything, nor do I want to be. I just want to voice my opinion and have other people relate to it. And people have. So I thank you, thank you, and thank you again. I’m easy to please. I’m happy to get a text message from a friend, so I’m beyond honored and shocked when hundreds of people take the time to read some bullshit that I wrote. Thank you for checking it out and thank you for coming back. Even though I run it, it’s our blog.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake

The 25th anniversary of the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake is coming up on October 17th. It seems only fitting that I write about it because it was one of my clearest memories from my early childhood. I was roughly 4 and a half years old and was at my house in Pacifica, CA, which is just south of San Francisco. My parents were at Game 3 of the World Series and my grandma was watching my sisters and me. At 5:04 p.m. (I don’t remember the exact time, but Google does) the ground started to shake. I remember feeling the rumble and seeing the keys on the hook swaying back and forth. I remember my grandma repeating “Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh dear,” over and over again. I knew that it was an earthquake, because I started crying when it was over. Not because I was scared, but because I forgot to go under the table and cover up like they taught us in preschool. Here was my chance to show off my earthquake survival skills and I blew it.

My house wasn’t fortunately wasn’t damaged but the electricity went out. I remember sitting around in candlelight for hours until my parents came home. My grandma asked how it was outside. They said that the lights were out all over the city. I wondered aloud if that included the light inside the car when you opened the door. I didn’t realize the magnitude of the situation. I was only four, I couldn’t grasp the severity. My aunt and uncle had just gotten married and were on their honeymoon. They turned on the TV to hear news reports that the Bay Bridge and multiple freeways collapsed, that Candlestick Park was cracked in half, that houses had crumbled, and how fires were running rampant. A 6.9 quake in a populated area is devastating, and we were fortunate that only sixty-three lives were lost.

The World Series saved a lot of lives that year. The Oakland A’s and the San Francisco Giants were both competing in the Fall Classic that was dubbed the Battle of the Bay. The freeways were surprisingly clear during what was typically rush hour because everybody was settled in to watch the game. It was also because of the World Series that it became the first earthquake to be broadcast live on national television. It became an event. People who didn’t experience it personally still remember it profoundly. You have to respect Mother Nature because she can be a fucking bitch sometimes. But the flag of SF depicts a phoenix for a reason: because out of the ashes we will be reborn.

Critically Rated at 10/17

Written, Rated, and, Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

(hopefully you caught on to why it’s rated like that)

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DeLorean DMC-12

The DeLorean DMC-12 is one of the most popular cars of the 1980s, as well as the most popular fictional time machine in history. Doc Brown used the famous stainless steel sports car with the iconic gull-wing doors as the basis for his time machine in the Back to the Future trilogy. Traveling back and forth in time never looked so stylish. The DMC-12 is instantly recognizable and has become a collector’s item, despite the fact that it’s honestly not that great of a car. It’s underpowered and shoddily built, but it still turns heads. They only manufactured them for a few years before owner John DeLorean got arrested for drug trafficking (the ‘80s were fucking awesome) and the company declared bankruptcy. I’ve seen a couple of DeLoreans driving around throughout the years and it’s always something to bond with strangers about. You don’t see DeLoreans every day so they stand out when they do. It’s a cool car because it is so decidedly ‘80s.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Lagunitas Imperial Red Ale

Lagunitas Imperial Red Ale is a Red Ale/American Amber made by Petaluma, California’s Lagunitas Brewing Company. It’s a solid beer all around. It pours a ruby orange color with a creamy off white head. The nose is full of pine and citrus hops and bready malts. The aroma is a bit misleading because it tastes more on the malty side than the hoppy side. You still get pine and citrus (mostly grapefruit) flavors, but it has a nice bready and malty backbone. There’s a little sweet and spicy caramel flavor and maybe a hint of wood. Throw in the decent 7.8% ABV and you have a great Red Ale. I’m more of an IPA drinker, but this beer hits the spot. Lagunitas is a great brewery and this is a great brew.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Air Plants

My roommate is out of town for a few days and she left me in charge of watering the plants. She has a pretty solid collection of plants, but she wrote me down detailed instructions for how to take care of each one. She spelled it out for me. The plants in the mason jars on the window just needs a little bit of water. The Jerusalem Cherry gets a complete soil soaking. the avocado trees need to be fully soaked and drained in the sink. The elephant ear plant needs a full bottle of water poured all around the dirt. And the air plants need to be soaked in a bowl full of water, but only for an hour. She told me to do the air plants first because they were the most important. I’m not much of a botanist, i will admit that I had no idea what air plants are. I found all the other plants okay, but no air plants. I had to text my sister to ask what they were. She said they didn’t need soil and that people usually hang them from the ceiling or put them in teapots. I searched the entire apartment searching for something that matched that description. All I found were a couple of things like looked like cactus tumble weeds in glass containers on a bookshelf. I texted my sister back and said I didn’t see anything hanging from anywhere. She told me to take a video of the apartment and she would try to spot them. I made a quick video tour and went it to her. I also summoned up the courage to text my roommate and ask her what air plants are. I received responses from them both at the same time. The air plants were those little fuckers that I thought were cactus in the glass containers on the bookshelf. Mind blown. I was amazed, flabbergasted, and stunned. I never knew that air plants were even a thing before today. It makes me wonder how many times I walked past air plants before thinking that they were cacti. You learn something new everyday. Today I learned about air plants.
Critically Rated at 11/17
Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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The Scenic Route

If you’re not in a rush and you have time to appreciate life and smell the roses, then I recommend that you do so. Take the scenic route. The scenic route is not the fastest way to get from Point A to Point B. It takes longer but you see more shit. And that’s what life is about: seeing as much shit as you can while you can. Take the scenic route as much as you can. What’s the rush to get back home and back to the mundane? The less you experience, the more you miss out on. You want to have memories, not regrets. Take the scenic route. I can’t stress this enough. Go a different way. Catch a different bus. Don’t take drive when you can walk. Visit a city you never thought you would. Do something new. Live life. It’s all about the scenic route.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Getting Carded

I’m twenty-nine years old and still get carded. That might seem inconvenient to some, but it’s a great compliment and one that I will take any day. It might be my baby face. It might be my demeanor. I don’t care. People think that I’m a lot younger than I am. I can get away with paying student price on the bus. I can get half-priced move tickets. I have to have my ID ready at every bar or liquor store checkout. My last name is Young. I act young. I look young. I am Young. I plan to enjoy this as long as I can. One day I will wake up old or dead and nobody will bother to card me. And I will look back on the glory days of my youth with a twinkle in my eye and a scowl on my face.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Planning Trying to Plan Things Via Texting

You’re kind of bored and you want to hang out with somebody. So you text your friend to see if he wants to hang out. He texts you back and says he does. You text him back and ask what he wants to do. He texts back that he’s not sure. You text back and ask if he’s hungry. He texts back and says he could eat and asks what you’re in the mood for. You text back that you want a burrito. He texts back that he had a burrito last night, but he could go for a pizza. You text back that you had pizza for lunch. He texts back to suggest Chinese food. You text back and say that Chinese food sounds good. He texts back to ask where you want to go. You text back and say that place on Fourth Avenue. He texts back to say that works. You text back and ask what time he wants to go. He texts back that he doesn’t care, he can go whenever. You text back and suggest you meet there in an hour. He texts back and says that it’s not enough time to get ready. You text back to suggest meeting in two hours. He texts back to say okay, and that he’ll see you there.

The entire texting exchange lasted over ninety minutes, when it could have taken ninety seconds if you actually called him. That’s the problem with trying to plan things via texting: it’s not convenient and it takes fucking forever. Smartphones are both a blessing and a curse. It’s really easy to stay connected but you’re not really interacting.

Critically Rated at 5/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Washer and Dryer

I recently moved out of my old apartment and into a new one. The new place is more expensive, but it comes with perks like a balcony, dishwasher, and a washer and dryer. I haven’t had the luxury of my own washer and dryer for over seven years. I had to go to a Laundromat that was three blocks away from my house every couple of weeks. My laundry routine consisted of skating to the Laundromat, dumping all my clothes into one washing machine instead of separating them by color because it costs eight quarters to run each one, then skating back home for thirty minutes, then skating back to the Laundromat, throwing my clothes into the dryer and putting five quarters into dryer, then skating back home for thirty minutes, then skating back to pick up my laundry, then going back home to fold it. It would take over an hour, cost over three bucks, and take traveling over eighteen blocks just to do one load of laundry. Now I can walk halfway down the hallway to do my laundry. And I can separate my colors and delicates. And I don’t have to worry about forgetting it or people stealing my clothes. And I can save my quarters for gumball machines again. Life is good, all thanks to the washer and dryer in my new apartment.

Critically Rated at 14/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Swimming

I grew up in California suburbs and I was lucky enough to have a pool. That meant I got swimming lessons when I was five. They teach you the basics like the back float, doggy paddle, and treading water. Then you eventually advance to the freestyle stroke, breaststroke, backstroke, and butterfly stroke. Everybody should learn how to swim. Swimming is the art of moving through water without drowning. It could save your life if you’re ever caught in a flash flood, if your boat capsizes, or if your plane crash-lands in the Hudson River. There are lots of reasons why you should learn how to swim. You can swim for fun, survival, or exercise. And it’s an essential part of skinny dipping.

Critically Rated 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Free Stuff on the Street

Putting free stuff on the street is a common way of getting rid of old junk in the city. I’ve been on both sides of free stuff on the street. I’ve left old futons and bureaus on street corners before. I’ve also scavenged through them before, like last night for instance. I went for a walk with some friends. We weren’t walking anywhere in particular, we were simply hanging out and didn’t feel like being cooped up inside. We were walking residential street and passed by the remnants of a garage sale that the homeowner left outside on the curb. There was an old TV, a bookshelf with an assorted title of books, a couple of large plastic containers, and an ugly lamp. It was basically all the crap that wouldn’t sell, so the solution was to leave it out and let passersby take what they want. And people did. My friend got himself a book about stupid things famous historical figures have done. I was tempted to take the lamp but I wasn’t going to lug it around on our aimless walk, so I let it be. I woke up this morning and left my house to catch the train for work. I passed by what was left of the remnants of the garage sale and there were only two boxes and the ugly lamp left. Then I noticed an elderly couple walking ahead of me carrying the bookshelf. Pretty impressive. They picked the bones clean. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. That’s why free stuff on the street gets such a high rating. How high of a rating? Just keep on reading to find out. You don’t have to read much more. You’re almost there.

Critically Rated at 13/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Continuous Stream

Guys are competitive about everything. Even peeing. We always try to outdo everyone else, even at the urinal. That’s why pissing contest is a term. We try to hold it in as long as possible in an attempt to achieve the continuous stream. That’s when you piss slow and steady for a solid sixty seconds or more. It’s relieving and impressive at the same time. If you go up to a urinal at a crowded bar or sports stadium and barely manage to whiz for ten seconds, you feel like less of a man because you are one. But if you overcome your bladder shyness and obtain a continuous stream, you can accomplish anything. The world is yours.

Critically Rated at 16/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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Falling Asleep and Wasting a Good Beer

Yesterday I went to the bar after work to watch the San Francisco Giants take on the Washington Nationals for Game 2 of the 2014 NLDS. I only got a beer every other inning, but the game ended up going 18 innings and lasting six hours and twenty-three minutes before the Giants finally eked out a victory. Naturally, I celebrated with another beer. Then it was time to go home because I was pretty hammered. I skated to the subway and caught a train home. I cracked open another beer and made a sandwich when I got back. I kind of blacked out at that point because I don’t remember much after that, other than watching Harry Potter and getting crumbs all over the floor. I know that I passed out because I woke up for work this morning and saw a half-full bottle of beer on the table. And it was a good beer too. Lagunitas Little Sumpin’ Sumpin’ Ale is practically precious. I hate falling asleep and wasting a good beer. But I’ve found a decent solution for my after work beers: I’ll drink one quality craft brew and one inferior domestic like a Budweiser or Coor’s. I have no problems with falling asleep and wasting a shitty beer.

Critically Rated at 7/17

Written, Rated, and Reviewed by Brendan H. Young

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