Hey, ladies. I'm guessing you're looking for a Halloween costume, right? Well, this guy's got what yer looking for.
Please don't choose the sexy mental patient one, though. Bad memories. Too scary. brrrrr...
Fawlty Towers is one of my all-time favorite sitcoms. Unfortunately, there were only 12 episodes made -- six in 1975 and six in 1979. Here is the first part of the fire drill scene from the episode "The Germans".
Basil's wife Sybil, in the hospital to have an ingrowing toenail removed, keeps calling Basil on the phone to remind him about his various chores to be done. Among these are hanging a moose head in the lobby and conducting a fire drill at 12 o'clock. He, of course, reminds her that he hasn't forgotten and that he's been reminding the guests all morning of the impending fire drill. She tells him that the key to the fire bell isn't where he left it but, rather, in the office safe.
This YouTube video begins just as Basil opens the safe, and the burglar alarm goes off and Basil discovers what the term "herding cats" means. (Beverage alert.)
UPDATE: And here are the Osmonds playing Crazy Horses. The music is the album track; there's no one even sitting at the drum set. But the vocals are done live.
Crazy Horses was the first and only Osmonds album my mom ever bought me. We got back from the store and put it on, and the opening song, Hold Her Tight begins playing. My mother looked at me and said "I didn't know they were monsters!". Heh.
Back in the '60s, The Remains was a band based out of Boston who were pretty popular in New England -- so I've read. They made it all the way to New York to appear on The Ed Sullivan Show and performed this song, "Let Me Through", sometime in '65 or '66. They even went on to open for The Beatles on their last tour in '66. Then they broke up.
I've never heard of this song until today. Apparantly it was newly written by their singer and guitarist Barry Tashian. They had just learned it and, as it turns out, never recorded it, so this may be the only version of the song available in any form.
One thing about The Remains is that, to my ear, their songs are very derivative of the popular bands of the time. One song will sound like The Beatles, the next will sound like The Rolling Stones and the next will sound like The Yardbirds.
It sounds like Tashian wrote this one after staying up all night listening to The Kinks.
Not one of their best songs or performances (the timing gets a little shaky at times), but it rocks, and there is some interesting guitar work near the end. And, if you're any semblence of a guitar player or a songwriter, you'll hear some pretty quirky stuff for it's time.
...before she was Leather Tuscedero...
The year is 1973. The singers are David Bowie and Marianne Faithfull. The song is "I Got You, Babe". Try to imagine that. Oh, wait, you don't have to!
I'm still not sure if this is real or if I'm dreaming it. I mean, this is like something I would dream while napping after scarfing down a pizza with too many hot peppers on it.
Even stranger than KISS on The Mike Douglas Show, here's Iggy Pop on Dinah!.
Since I first found out that there was a video for this song -- like, twenty years ago -- I've wanted to see it. Now, thanks to YouTube, I have. And you can, too. :)
Housemate Chris has this on videotape, complete with a Danish TV host's introduction. This is the first time I've seen it uninterupted.
This is an early version of Anarchy In The U.K. from 1976. I love the guitar sound on this version, with the distortion complimented by the phase shifter. A very cutting-edge sound for the late-'70s. Enjoy! :)
I wonder if anybody thought: "Are these kids a threat to the Bay City Rollers?"
Those lips. Those eyes. Them fingers.
You know what to do. :)
Aah, remember this one? It still gives me goosebumps.
Okay, maybe I'll give up on that UFO trivia game. We've been stuck on the same question for almost three straight days now. **sigh** I really haven't contributed much to the effort anyway. Every question I can answer, someone beats me to.
I would like to win a Sumo Lounge beanbag chair, though! :)
Plus, the grand prize is the domain name alltheufoanswers.com which is probably worth about $7500 right now due to the search engine referals it's racked up in the past two weeks.
Eh. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow. I'm definately not going to engross all of my on-line time with that game anymore.
In the meantime, here's a pursuasive argument that Kim Jong Ill has something more productive to spend the People's money on rather than nuclear arms.
Priorities, folks. Priorities.
Okay, so I haven't posted much at all in the past month. Thing is, about two weeks ago, I decided to do a "year-ago-today" post, but discovered that all of my July's are filled with "sorry-for-not-posting" posts.
So, as it turns out, July is my yearly navel gazing month. It must be the heat combined with the lack of breeze going through my room. (I can hardly read blogs for 20 minutes before drifting off into exhausted lethargy.)
The good news is that now I have a window fan. The bad news is that half the electrical outlets in this house run through a single circuit and it trips about three times a day. So, I try not to run the fan when the heat/humidity is tolerable.
It seems, fortunately, that I get a bit more blog-active (blactive?) come August, so we'll see what's in store in the coming month.
My landlady just bitched at me about why the lawn isn't mowed to a smooth sheen and why there are weeds among the hedges. I dunno, Housemate Chris was always the gardener. I can't tell a weed from a pretty green thing that gives off oxygen. But I guess I'll mow the lawn tomorrow if it'll shut her up.
Incidentally, I love the smell of fresh cut grass, but I also love the look overly long grass before it's cut. My neighbor (a retired old sumbitch) mows his lawn once a week. Not only does he usually start at 6:45 in the morning, due to his advanced age and lack of youthful vigor it takes him about four hours to complete the job. (Thankfully his veggie garden takes up nearly half of his yard.) Personally, I'd love to have ivy or weeds or whatever climbing the walls of our houses. Maybe it's just me, but I'd like a private little forrest.
UPDATE: My spidey senses tell me that Chris is now out mowing the backyard. The deal I proposed to Landlady was that I would mow the grass if Chris would pull the weeds. (I can barely tell a weed from a snapdragon.) Now Chris is gonna hafta do all of it. Mwuh huh huh huh huh!!!!
UPDATE 2: Correction: Turns out that Landlady is mowing around her small garden. I guess she doesn't want me to shred her cucumber plants while I give the lawn a crew cut. @#$% neat freaks. She's got only about five minutes of daylight left, btw...
ASTORIA, Ore. (AP) - It was either a prank or the work of Mother Nature - either way, Sherry Hart got a slithery surprise in her car.
Sherry Hart found a pair of garter snakes in the back seat of her car on a recent shopping trip to the grocery store, then found more under a floor mat.
"This lady was freaking out next to her car," says Will Brinkerhoff, 17, an employee at the North Coast Fred Meyer.
Eventually more than 20 of the harmless snakes were found inside the car, some pencil-thin and one the diameter of a quarter and 3 feet long.
When Warrenton police Officer Jim Gaebel arrived he guessed that one snake must have gotten into the car and had babies. Gaebel later told Hart that in all his years in police work, this was his first snake call.
But Hart believes it was a prank.
"Who did it? We don't know," she said. But she believes her car was chosen because a window stuck in the open position made it an easy target in the big parking lot.
I got nothin'.
If there were four flies on a table and I killed one, how many would be left?
One. The dead one.
Anywhoay, I'll be at the annual Fairfield County Irish Festival tomorrow if anyone wants to join me. Great fun, great workshops, great music. A fun time is guaranteed for all. :)
Now, fer anyone who doesn't know Bridgeport or southwestern Connecticut, that just may seem like a silly way to spend the afternoon.
Then again, most people don't live in Bridgeport, or even southwestern Connecticut. Whatever. I had the most scrumptuous chicken swandwich and they even gave me too much ketchup for the fries.
Dam, that's good eatin'. The old haunts are still the best...
With the Star Trek themed fund-raising going on at NRO, Jonah takes us on a trip down memory lane with a link to his review of Enterprise. After going on a bit about T'Pol as the follow-up to 7 of 9, he writes:
But before we smash our church-lady tea sets at the sight of rich unguents being smeared over that Vulcan torso, let's not forget that the original Trek (cue harp music) was never above a little T&A — or a lot of it. The Federation memo requiring all female officers to wear miniskirts (officially, they were called "skorts") was hardly a nod to their ergonomic benefits. Hell, Yeoman Rand was essentially a clipboard with blonde hair and long legs.
I'll get us started by voting for Dr. Helen Noel as portrayed by Marianna Hill in the episode Dagger of the Mind.
This is the best photo I could find and, believe it or not, it doesn't do her justice:
Any more nominees? They may be recurring characters or one-hit-wonders. Whatever. Who would you choose to be stranded on Ceti Alpha 5 with?
P.S. Chicks are welcome to chime in, too. Jenelle, I'm looking in yer direction... ;)
UPDATE: Thanks to Richard, a.k.a Finchster, the poll is open! VOTE!
Here we go again...
Have at it at your discretion....
1. Daddy, please, don't. It wasn't his fault.
He means so much to me
Daddy, please don't! We're gonna get married,
just you wait and see...
[Stephen Macklin & Citizen Grim]
2. Well, that was then
and now it's today
Do you remember
what I used to say....?
3. If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, you know I would,
If I could I would let it go
4. She was a girl from Birmingham
She just had had an abortion
She was a no one who killed her baby
She was a bloody disgrace!
5. The legend lives on from the Chippawah on down
and the lake that they call Gitchigumi
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy
[Stephen Macklin & Disillusionist]
6. Waltzing Mittilda whipped out her wallet,
Fifty boys smiled in dismay.
She took out four 20s 'cuz she liked round figures
Everybody stayed for the day...
7. In my little town I grew up believing
that God keeps His eye on us all
and he used to lean upon me
as I pledged allegiance to the wall
8. There's no living in my life anymore
The seas have run dry and the rain's stopped falling.
Please, don't you cry anymore!
Can't you see?
[Disillusionist] Good one, D! :)
9. Sometimes I know that it's never enough
Survival if fine, satisfaction is rough
with an angel tonight....
10. Another day is at end
Mama says she's tired, again
and Papa can't even begin to tell her.
I hardly know what to say...
11. Early one morning the sun was shining
I was laying in bed
wondering if she'd changed at all,
if her hair was still red.
You know the drill...
And he was also a brutal murderous thug who deserved it.
(This post inspired by this intriguing post. I forget where I swiped that .gif from.)
Is it just me or is it that the very idea of Geena Davis playing the President of the United States was rediculous on it's face?
Oh, great. It's only mid-March and we ran out of heating oil. Housemate Chris doesn't wanna spend any more money on oil 'cause we'd have to get a minimum delivery of 150 gallons which'll prolly cost well over $300. The house has been 45 degrees for the past few days. Hope it gets warmer soon. Tea. Need more tea.
The full word is "oleomargerine", but, on packaging, you'll almost always see it shortened to, simply, "margerine". The only time you'll ever see it refered to as "oleo" is in crossword puzzles.
NOW YOU KNOW...
You are beginning to read this sentence two seconds ago and will not finish reading it until now. The keys of my keyboard are grey and plastic. Your eyes are probably round and looking, though they may out-of-round and require glasses to focus properly.
This is a blog post and you are reading it.
Oh, my God....! I can see through time!!!
Er... Why did I write this? Oh, yeah!
I've heard tell that the Cheney hunting accident has been somewhat in the news this week. I don't watch TV anymore so I've missed out on the feeding frenzy. But, just to chime in on the whole thang, let it suffice fer me to say the following:
I first shot a .22 caliber rifle at summer camp when I was ten years old. I was a combat small arms instructor in the United States Air Force. But I've never hunted. It's been years since I've held a weapon in my hands, but I can still recall all of the fundamentals of shooting that were drilled into my head during my wonder years.
So, for you avid hunters out there, lemme ask ya: Is it just me or does it seem like wise advice to say "don't shoot at anything you can't see"? I mean, guns have sights for a reason. If you find yourself having to shoot at nebulous rustlings in the brush then maybe yer aiming for a maiming.
Dick, my man, sheesh. Noise = bird = turn n' shoot? Are you that hungry? Better to let a bird get away than to accidentally shoot one of your hunting buddies, no? Yes, hindsight is 20/20. But, cheese Louise, always keep in mind that that rustling in the hedges might actually just be a cat or a dog or a lawyer.
Use stealth. Get close. See your target. You must always eat what you kill. And I hear that human flesh is a bit stringy and has a gamey tang to it. Prolly needs to be cooked to 160 degrees, too. I dunno.
[Yet another photo left behind in Tex's My Documents...]
Yet another photo left behind in My Documents by Tex:
[Sorry. Working longer hours this week. **K'ching!** Man, we're busy...]
|Your Career Type: Investigative|
Your talents lie in understanding and solving math and science problems.
You would make an excellent:
Architect - Biologist - Chemist
Dentist - Electrical Technician - Mathematician
Medical Technician - Meteorologist - Pharmacist
Physician - Surveyor - Veterinarian
The worst career options for your are enterprising careers, like lawyer or real estate agent.
Dentist? Yuk! And I'm not so sure about Veterinarian, Physician or Mathematician, either. (I tried to teach myself calculus about ten years ago. Not happening.) I did, however, study (and enjoy) drafting throughout high school and, years later, looked into surveying and cartography. Feelers also went out to Journalist and Physicist, but I'll just settle for armchair-status these days.
So I ended up running printing presses. It'd be pretty boring if I had good machines, though. Luckily, my machines are pieces of crap and I get to solve problems all day every day! :)
Tip o' the tam to Michele.
BTW, I'm not quite back yet. My old PC has magically come back to life, but I do have a new(er) Mac that I'm trying to clean up for the eventual switch. Hopefully it will know how to play .wmv files as nearly half of Michelle Malkin's recent posts have been useless to me. Excelsior.
According to my weather pixie the temperature was 52 degrees F yesterday afternoon. It was warm calm and rainy. Today it's 19 F with snow on the ground and winds howling. Good ol' January!
Reprinted without pemission but with my traffic it's not like anyone will ever know or anything...
Okay, so most "blond jokes" are pretty lame-o, but this one still has me wiping a tear from my eye.
Eyes glazing over.
Can't put down Tetris.
A few inches of snow fell overnight and it was still snowing when I left the house for the bus stop. The absence of the kids waiting for their school buses was a tell-tale sign that school had been cancelled today.
Cars were moving slowly as the streets were only semi-plowed. By that I mean that thwy were plowed earlier, but plenty of new snow filled the voids. One very long pick-up truck tried to make a clean U-turn on Park Avenue and spun it's wheels a bit. Even though the bus was moving slower than normal it still arrived on time on account of there was hardly anybody on it. But, off to work I go.
After a few slips and slides the Coastal Link dropped me off in Milford for my ten-minute walk through the blizardy bluster. I stopped off at McDonald's to pick up breakfast. The lack of traffic and patrons was a bit eerie. The falling snow made everything pretty quiet even though a wind was blowing. The parking lot of the strip mall where I work was empty nut for a few cars and a snow plow. So why the hell am I going to work when everybody else is home and comfy? Rhetorical question, that. I got a little late: 9:45am.
Of course, Bossman hadn't yet picked up the paper and envelopes that I needed for the morning's jobs. I spent some time doing bindery work -- which was just fine with me. I wasn't exactly in a "press on" mood. In fact, I was surprissed that he didn't just call it a day and send us home. There was already 3 - 4 inches on the ground and more coming down with a vengeance.
After a couple hours I called Bossman on his cellphone. "How are the roads?" I asked him. "Oh, well the highway's alright but the roads are bit iffy." I told him that I thought I might want to bug out soon. My bus was sliding around on the way in and it looks like there'll be no let-up soon. Maybe I should play safe and leave now. I'd gotten done what needed to get done and he said "Fine". So, at 11:45, I headed for the bus stop. I knew I'd never make the 11:50, but I'd make the 12:10.
Turns out that there is no 12:10. They run once an hour at that time. So I waited. I threw snowballs at a No Tresspassing sign and pretended it a strike zone. Got the third out with the bases loaded to get out of a jam without giving up a run. I'm out of practice.
Note to snow plowers: When scraping along the side of the road, lift the plow when you pass a bystander. Twice in about five minutes I was pummelled by a wall of dirty street slush. Yecch!
Anywho, while it still pretty cold, the wind had died down and I noticed the incoming sky was clear and blue. At 12:44pm the sun emerged from the last remnants of the storm cloud. The ambient temperature rose about ten degrees in as many seconds. The snowfall was over and by the time the bus arrived there was no a cloud in the sky. Not even a wisp.
Should I head back to work?
I was cold and wet. My jeans, longjohns, socks, hat and gloves were soaking. I got on the bus.
I walked through my front door at 2:40pm while dreams hot showers danced in my head. When I got to the bathroom I'd discovered that my housemate had just taken a shower -- which means no hot water to shower in. Brrrr. Grrrrr. Brrrrrr.
Well, it's now 5:30 and I've accomplished nothing. Except that I ate some english muffin pizzas. And read a few blogs. My jeans are still damp and I'm heading for the shower. Then I'll have some tea. Hot. With milk and honey.
File under: Lame post #328.
Long story short: The bus I waiting on was half-an-hour late and I ended up standing in the f-f-freezing cold for about 45 minutes. This driver's usually late but not THIS late. Some of us started to wonder if there'd been an accident. One gal told me that she'd been standing around for nearly hour. Something was up.
When the bus finally arrived there was a platformful of people wanting to know why this guy was so @#$% late. Pretty much all he offered to one irate passenger was "no disrespect, but I had a situation". One angry gal took her seat muttering "'situation' my ass...".
So the 6:10 started rolling at about 6:45 while some people were murmuring about what this guy might've really been up to. I buried my head in my sudoku puzzle book. (It's addictive, I tells ya.)
When I stepped off the bus my feet suddenly felt like thawed-out previously frozen bologna or something. Cold, tired, achy and ready to get my weight off of them and into a hot bath. Oooo, a hot bath, I thought! I haven't had one of them in nearly two years.
Cousin B, who is between abodes and staying with us this week, was in the kitchen mopping the floor. "Just earning my keep," he said. I was surprised to see him home so early. He usually get home about two hours after I do.
"What time did you get out of work?" I asked. "1:00; I took in a movie," he said. I then told him about the bus being late.
Turns out, he was on the 5:10 -- the one just before mine. That bus left on time. But, at the intersection of Park and Capitol, a car had swerved in front of the bus and our driver hit the brakes and off the car sped. While, according Cousin B, the jolt surprised everyone, everybody was fine except for one particular woman who fell forward out of her seat and onto the floor. Cousin B says the stop was sudden but not inordinately so.
"She was maybe late 40s, early 50s," he mused. "She was a strong woman," he said shaking his head. "She was fine."
But she sat on the floor and moaned a little; complained a little. Our driver asked Floor Woman if she needed medical attention. She moaned "Yeeeeaaaahhhh...." She then said that wanted to speak to the head of the bus company or something. Since no one on the bus believed that she could've been really injured, the discussion turned sour. According to Cousin B, as 5 minutes turned into 10 and 10 turbed into half-an-hour, the driver was about ready to throw her lying ass out onto the curb. B got off the bus and walked the rest of the way home.
So anyway, a few hours later I felt bone-chillingly cold again. I just got out of a hot bath. Core temperature up; soft glow of the monitor; tea, hot with milk and honey. Oh, man, this is sweet.
And the snow has arrived. It's not much right now, but we're supposed to get some more very soon. 'Tis a nice day to huddle with a hot mug of tea as I anticipate the arrival of my cousin who'll be staying here for a week. He's moving out of the house he's been in 'cuz it's "full of old alcholics". Not a healthy environment, he says.
I don't know how healthy this environment will be for the next day or two. We still don't have oil in the furnace and the downstairs is pretty darn cold. Hope he has lots of blankets. And I forgot to mention to him that he'll be sharing the living room with a dog.
And on another note, don't miss the first Hold The Mayo podcast!
The best thing about sunday crossword puzzles is discovering the theme and working out the clever wordplay or the quote. I just finished the sunday Boston Globe puzzle that appears in a local weekly rag, and it had a very interesting and challenging theme.
The puzzle was titled Playing Charades and the tricky words went something like this (I just made up this example):
clue: bunny + morning moisture = coiff
Just 'cuz it was alot of fun I'm a-gonna give you the clues. See if you can figure out the answers. Some are pretty hard (and one's a gimme), so I included -- in parentheses -- the number of letters in each answer.
1. Ranch + aides = druggists (11)
2. European + communist = ticks (9)
3. Fish + worry = SRO (8)
4. Composer + guru's deciple = kids' game (9)
5. Salmon + legends = key people? (8)
6. Wed + Funicello = puppet (12)
7. Usual + spuds = announcers (12)
8. Phoney + glass = bubbly (8)
9. Peon + drilled = wave rider (9)
10. House part + house part = kind of fever (9)
11. Springtime + pranks = network (9)
12. European + octet = sprout (11)
Answers are in the extended entry.
Thursday morning the Connecticut Post said that on Saturday and Sunday we'd have temperatures in the low 60s and sunny skies.
Yesterday morning the paper said that Saturday would be rainy with temps in the high 40s, and that Sunday would be sunny and in the upper 50s.
So, it's Saturday and it's currently 42 degrees with overcast skies. No rain is expected. According to the Post's website, tomorrow and Monday will be partly to mostly sunny with temperatures in the low 60s. Which means, I suppose, that the kids will be prolly be trick-or-treating in a blizzard.
So, why is my window still wide open? Well, I like the fresh air and the hot tea with milk and honey and this sweater are keeping me acceptably comfy.
Now I just gotta figure out how I'm gonna get some oil into my furnace before the winter arrives.
I got one today from Rodney Allen Rippy. Heh.
Since Hollywood seems hellbent on remaking old 60s and 70s TV shows, isn't time we saw a remake of the Munsters?
How's about a cast of Ahnold, Katey Sagal, Jack Nicholson, Jessica Simpson and that kid from Malcolm In The Middle?
Okay, that Malcolm kid is a bit too old nowadays to play Eddie. I spent way too much time putting this thing together in Photoshop, I guess.
UPDATE: Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! The PSD wont upload as an image! Does anyone know how to convert a PSD into a JPEG? First I find out that I have no money to live on for the next two weeks and now this. This sux....
Question: What is energy?
[I'm not just being flippant here. I'm working on a post that, I fear, is impossible to finish the way I want to finish it. So, in the name of getting to the bottom of this whole "intelligent design" thang, any thoughtful comments will be greatly appreciated!]
Tip o'the tam to Ted for this one.
CLEAN | COMPLEX | DARK
You like things edgy, subtle, and smart. I guess that means you're probably an intellectual, but don't take that to mean you're pretentious. You realize 'dumb' can be witty--after all isn't that the Simpsons' philosophy?--but rudeness for its own sake, 'gross-out' humor and most other things found in a fraternity leave you totally flat.
I guess you just have a more cerebral approach than most. You have the perfect mindset for a joke writer or staff writer. Your sense of humor takes the most effort to appreciate, but it's also the best, in my opinion.
Also, you probably loved the Office. If you don't know what I'm talking about, check it out here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theoffice/.
PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Jon Stewart - Woody Allen - Ricky Gervais
|My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:|
|Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid Free Online Dating|
Just in case y'all missed Dilbert last week, here are four of the five that I got a good chuckle out of. (Wednesday's strip was unrelated to the date.)
Been there. Done that.
I can't believe how much nothin' I got. No news items are inspiring an essay or a rant or even a head's up and a link. I got no interesting slice of life anecdotes or cool recipes. I mean, I got nothin'.
I did have an idea for a post but I can't seem to find what I need online. Does anybody know of those off-shore sites where you can actually download an mp3 for free? Google can't seem to find them. Man, I got nothin'.
Well, it's cool and rainy and quiet and dreary 'round these parts. Good day to get some cleaning and laundry done. And experiment in the kitchen, of course.
It's also a good day to brush up on kvetchitude. For, y'see, summer is coming and one of my favorite activities is to get together with a friend or two, sip some homemade lemonade and/or drink some beer and just sit on the porch and bitch about stuff. And now's as good a time as any to get in some spring training.
Why is it so dam windy in Milford? They're no closer to the water than Bridgeport is. Yet, when I take the bus from Birdgeport to Milford, I can watch the large flags that line the bus route. Here, they hang straight down. Through Stratford I can watch them begin the flutter more and more. By the time I get to Milford the flags are in full, all-out, majestic flappery*.
[* I couldn't think of an appropriate word. "Flappery" will hafta do.]
Hmm. I'm rustier than I thought. Lemme try another one...
What's up with people who want to fly those little airplanes? I flew in one once when my father was doing a little flying. It felt just like riding in an old Volkswagon Beetle. Sure the view is better. Or maybe it's just different.
The thing is: If you're driving and your engine cuts out, or you run out of gas, you can just pull over to the shoulder and flag down a passing motorist. If you're flying and your engine cuts out, or you run of gas, you can just pull your legs up passed you shoulders and kiss your ass good-bye. Nope, you'll never get ME up in one of those things again.
Hmm. A little better, but still not there yet. I'm warming up, though. Let's see....
And how come all the months of the year have 3-letter abbreviations except for September? Why is it "Sept" and not "Sep"? And if it's okay to have 4-letter abbreviations then why do we bother to abbreviate June and July? I mean, the abbreviation for June is J-u-n. You GOTTA be in a hurry.
And whose bright idea was it to turn Star Trek into a soap opera? Have you watching Enterprise? The episodes are good -- often great. But, man, they're not stand-alone episodes. I missed alot of episodes and then tried to keep with it. It's one big long plotline. I stopped watching when the re-runs kicked in during the whole Xindi saga and I couldn't tell what happened before what. One week Archer was arguing with the head mammalian, then the next week they were strangers again. No wonder the thing got cancelled.
Well, I've got ways to go before I'm in topnotch bitchin' shape. For now I'll get back to some cooking. Lobster tortallini. Cheese tortallini smothered in a lobster bisque. Yum.
Kvetch ya later, pilgrims!
Promising a psyche eval, Collins asks some, er, interesting questions and writes
I invite you to answer them on your comments or on your own blogs (cuz I know you got nuthin').
Ain't that the truth.
[Main body of post deleted. It just didn't fit this blog or with it's readership. -- TS]
In today's scum report: Brittany Spears pulls a Janet Jackson while performing in Ireland. This time, however, as this story says, it really was an accident.
View image (Not work safe, I guess. [Well, some people work in strip clubs...])
Tip o'the tam to Harvey!
If you ever meet Michael Jackson, walk up to him and do the ol' "got yer nose!" trick! And then don't give it back!
shaka shaka shaka shaka shaka shaka pop! shaka shaka shaka pop! shaka pop! shaka shaka poppity pop! shaka poppity poppity pop! shaka poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity pippity pappity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity poppity pop! shaka poppity poppity pop! shaka shuppa shaka pop! shuppa poppity pop! shuppa shuppa shuppa pop! shuppa shuppa pop! shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa pop! shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa shuppa.
UPDATE: Hmm. Just in case anyone's wondering if yours truely has "gone off his medication", lemme explain.
While commuting home last evening I got the idea to have a "guest blogger" write a post and call it "Guest Blogger Blather" or something.
First I thought that it might be one of the cats, Stinky, and have the post read "meow m'm'meow m'meow" and so on. This would represent what Stinky has to say about an important issue of the day like, oh, feeding time.
But then I thought it'd be lot's more funner to have a sauce pan making popcorn "speak". I walked home laughing out loud as I "wrote" it. So when I got home I wrote the main paragraph which was to be posted by guest blogger: "Spork's Sauce Pan".
But I couldn't get the sauce pan in as an author. Maybe it's because of the IP, or because I used the same password as I use for myself. I dunno.
I didn't want to let what I'd written go to waste [don't ask me why] so I titled it "Pet Sounds", added the bits after the main paragraph and just posted it as Tuning Spork.
See? It all makes perfect sense! That's the story and I'm stickin' to it. :P
Me: I just thought of something.
Lawruh: Uh-oh. Let me guess: Gravity can't exist!
Me: No-o-o-o-o. I don't know how an electron's radius is measured.
Me: Well, an electron is a wave.
Lawruh: How can you measure the radius of a wave?
Me: Exactly. The thing is: It can't travel around a proton in one cycle otherwise it'd just be a circle. There'd be no crest or valley. So, if an electron's diameter can be measured, it's because it's spread out over two cycles!
Lawruh: Wow, I almost understood that!
Me: Me, too! And that's why atoms are never found alone, but only as molecules. They travel around in pairs.
Lawruh: Like women when they go to the bathroom!
Me: Yes! The electrons loop around one proton then the other; two cycles!
Lawruh: In a figure-8!
Lawruh: Y'know, I was eating Alpha-Bits one morning and was surprised because I saw that it read "oooooo." Then I remembered that I was eating CheeriOs.
I'm thinking of putting up a Death Pool for myself. Whoever guesses the date closest to when I finally get slaughtered by a vehicle being driven by some indigenous alien who's too busy yakking on their cellphone to bother watching where they're going wins. I'll keep the prize a secret until we have a winner.
The mainstream media has their pink panties in a bunch over the "reckless and unacountable" blogosphere getting the story right again. Eason Jordan would rather resign than have his CNN access and release a tape of his "alleged" comments accusing the US military of sniping off journalists. Bloggers didn't call for Jordan's head, only for him to release a tape and get the truth out. Then we'd've call for his head, but not sooner.
I'm sick of the whole Eason Jordan kerfufflenutter. I don't need to see a tape of Davos. Chris Dodd, David Gergen, Barney Frank and that blogger who started the whole thing gave indentical accounts of Jordan's blabbering. He resigned, I hope, embarrassed and ashamed (even if he never admits it out loud).
Jordan and the blogosphere are through with each other as far as I'm concerned. CNN, on the other hand, has a lot of explaining to do about why they stonewalled, rather than investigated, the story. Perhaps Mary Mapes would like to launch a probe in search of missing CNN memos. Her sources could have 'em by 7pm Wednesday.
And what's the deal with these newfangled city buses? I gotta sit sideways and keep my knees elevated like a leg trauma victim. Who designs these things, the Lullaby League? I'm a skinny 5'11'' guy made to feel like Chris Farley in that airliner's bathroom in Tommy Boy. I turn the page of my newspaper too fast and I'm libel to explode out into the aisle.
The Navy wants to christen an "attack submarine" the USS Jimmy Carter? Why? If there's such a thing as poetic injustice the thing'll probably run aground somewhere in the Iranian desert in less than four years while trying to target North Korean nuclear missle launchers.
Oh, and one more thing. Lucid dreaming can be fun. It can also, at times, be a little frightening. Half-lucid dreaming can be downright terrifying. Make it stop!!!!
(I might actually explain that last one if anyone cares.)
All the time in the world to think up posts and no time left to frickin' blog!
I'll be crawling out of bed in a few hours if anyone needs me.
Oh, and did I mention that, yesterday, I've met the girl of my dreams?! I'd seen her before, plenty of times, riding the #11 bus. She's a pretty 30-something emigre from the Ukraine who fi-i-i-i-nally got around to bumming a cigarette off me.
"May I ask to bum a cigarette from you, or pay?"
This dirty-blonde, dark-eyed, petite, slavic goddess just asked me for a favor. Punch me, I'm dreaming.
Of course, I waved off her offer of the quarter. Please oh please just speak some Russian to me!
We had a nice conversation about language, and how I tried to teach myself Russian some 15 years ago just 'cause it sounded so beautiful, but I never got her name and never told her mine.
So now all I gotta do is figure out how I'm gonna meet her again...
So anyway, one day about ten years ago I was driving along tht Merritt Parkway and I could smell the beach. Seaside Park is, I guestimate, about two miles south of the Parkway, but it was a warm clear day and, for some reason, the smell of the saltwater of Long Island Sound came wafting through my open windows.
"Hey," I thought, "I can smell the Sound!"
Taken out of context, that phrase might make someone wonder what kind of acid I had dropped.
Friday night Tex's girlfriend Jessie - who works at a daycare center - was telling me about all of the sentences she hears on a daily basis that, she's certain, must have never been spoken aloud before. These are the "daily quotes" that Tex just has to hear from Jessie at the end of each day.
"Stop riding the refridgerator!" was Friday's quote.
The only other one I can remember was one mentioned by Norm: "Could you hand me that piano?" (I have no idea what the context of that one was.)
Anybody got any good ones you wanna share?
Just got the whackiest piece of spam I've ever found in my inbox. This comes from one firstname.lastname@example.org under the title of "Terrorists hosting integration and partnership".
Since Nigerian-style scams may have finally outlived their novelty, is the new generation of scam-spam a scam to pretend to be one who lets you in on the ground floor of said scam?
Get a load...:
We are glad to greet you on our site, we've opened recently, but we can offer you stolen data about credit cards of Europe and USA inhabitants and also of Asian countries. Here and just here you'll be able to find out all about your boss, how much does he earn, his SSN and a lot of other info. We accept orders for DDOS-attacks of any servers and also we offer spam-services. Visit us today and probably tomorrow you'll be a real hacker and will receive a respect of your contemporaries.Best credit cards, cashing of dirty money, stolen paypal accounts, access to the bank accounts of UK and USA residents - all this you will find only on
vendors.name or https://22.214.171.124
vendorsservice.org or https://126.96.36.199
vendorsservice.info or https://188.8.131.52
Come now and you will receive 10 credit cards with cvv2 code for free.And also you can find the data about USA residents, starting from the bank accounts and ending with their pants size.
All this and many other things - only on our company sites
Also we have our Dutch-based shop where you can buy some drugs to make your life more wonderful and funny. We have wide selection of Ganzha, Crack, both synthetic and natural Heroin.
And our prices are affordables for everyone.
Thanks to our hosting companies
They give us hosting not paying attention to FBI and SS calls. Theplanet is the best hosting provider if you want to host sites with child porno, weapon sales etc. and a lot of other stuff.
P.S.Happy Holidays from EV1.NET
We were, we are and we will be the best hosting for all the terrorists, about our program for hosting of the terrorists in details you can read here:
Okay. Which one of you whackadoodles sent me this? [*tapping foot with arms akimbo*]
"Well, my wife and I go out to dinner twice a week."
"Yeah. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Thursdays."
Welp, my hiatus is officially over. Unfortuanately, I got home from work at a quarter to 9. So, I read a little, made dinner (yummy), and tried to build a post on an idea that's been rackin' 'round my brain today.
I've been trying to turn this into a poem with, like, rhyme and meter and everything. But it ain't workin'. So I'll just post this as it is, more or less, in my notes right this now:
In A World Without Bs
In a world without Bs, if I may be so old, girlfriends would raid each others' hair, you would eat your eggs afore ya fried 'em, and kids would construct castles out of locks.
In a world without Bs, an eagle would be a kind of dog, and he would merely arf in the hallway after a disagreeable dish of Cycle.
In this world you would carry your lushing ride over the threshhold. And cheating on her would be a reach of faith.
The locals would line the pier fishing for freshwater ass as the flowers loom in the shadows. Some people would be itchy, but, luckily, that'd be only their concern.
Your employer would hand you a Christmas onus -- perhaps a pint of ooze -- and the roach on your wife's louse would be latantly obvious.
In a world without Bs others might rag on and on about their rats but that wouldn't compare to driving the car over the ridge. Or, to the doctor sending you the ill.
On the right side, cripples would have full-length races! And, this winter, at worst, you might get caught in a lizzard. (That doesn't even make sense nevermind.)
Of course, in a world without Bs, a logger could just go ahead and post silly entries at Lather Review without so much as linking.
Oy, oh, oy. Sorry, I'll stop now... :)
Getting home at 8:30 in the evening leaves little time for blogging. Between doing a load of laundry, preparing dinner and trying to do a little reading, there's so little time left to form a post.
I got the idea today to research Kabbalah for some reason. I wanted to find out what exactly it was and then maybe give y'all an idea of it -- in case you, like I, had no idea what it was all about but might be interested in some basics.
The above link gives a very basic outline of what Kabbalah is all about. I don't have any more time tonight to delve into it and then to write a meaningful post about it, but I'll just give ya an idea of what I'm thinking so far.
Kabbalah (the "religion"/movement/trendy excercize in spirituality, not the actual word) is a combination of the study of the Torah and Talmud with a Buddhist-like focus on mystical laws. The revealed, written "body" of the Torah (the Law) must be balanced and united with a pursuit of understanding the unrevealed, unwritten "spirit" of the Torah (the Kabbalah). The purpose is to achieve a oneness with God and the Law -- or, what the Buddhists call Enlightenment.
The Nicheren Buddhist chant, "Nam myoho renge kyo", loosely tranlates to "Praise be to the mystical law of cause and effect through sound". The idea is that focussing your mind and body -- and all of it's senses -- on the ritual of the pursuit of Enlightenment will help you to eventually become enlightened about the linear nature of cause and effect in the personal and spiritual world just as we've become "enlightened" about cause and effect in the mechanical world that we experience.
Kabbalah, however, seems to have no ritualistic practice. It's a call to focus on understanding the unwritten "spirit" of the Torah. If we endeavor to understand the Truth and beauty behind the Law, they seem to be saying, then we'll be closer to a personal union with God. Okay, sound good to me.
The thing about it though is that, since there's no practice or ritual involved, the focus on understanding the "spirit" is really no more than the introspection that we naturally apply when we seek an understanding of the Law.
In short: Aren't we doing this anyway? Seems to me that anyone who'd get involved with "Kabbalah" is already, by definition, living it's "teachings".
My under-educated guess is that those who tell us that they're into Kabbalah are either; a: looking for like-minded Enlightenment seekers just to know that they're not alone; b: looking for something to believe in that wont take up too much of their layin'-around time, or; c: trend-seeking poseurs.
Maybe I'm being too harsh, suspicious, and/or too quick to draw (wouldn't be the first time). But it just seems to me that to give something so basal as the search for the ultimate Truth a proper name smacks of shallow, unenlightened tribalism.
I'm just sayin' is all... Have a happy! ;P
Watching Brady Bunch marathon/reunion on TVLand.
Thank you for mentioning it, Stevie. I wouldn't have known of it otherwise!
I got a questionaire in email from RP. I haven't responded... though, I did pass it on. I received this response from Presidential candidate John F Kerry:
Welcome to Summer 2004 edition of getting to know your friends. What you are supposed to do is copy or forward this entire e-mail. Change all the answers so they apply to you and then send this to a bunch of friends, including the person who sent it to you. The theory is that you will learn a lot more about your friends.
1. What time do you get up? Crunch time.
2. If you could eat lunch with one living person who would it be?
Saddam Hussein. I'd like to threaten him and then appologize for it in person.
3. Gold or Silver? Silver, with a combat V. I also have a Bronze.
4. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? "Mary Shelley's Frankenstein". Someone recommended it saying I might see alot of myself throughout it. I didn't notice anything particularly insightful, though.
5. What is/are your favorite TV Shows? Spin City, The West Wing, I Led Two Lives.
6. What did you eat for Breakfast? Rice paddy, omlette du framage, toast.
7. Who would you hate to be stuck in a room with? Ralph Nadar.
8. What is your middle name?
9. Beach, City, Country or Mountains? What... no Jungle? Beach for windsurfing, Mountains for skiing, City for voting, Country for shafting.
10. Favorite Ice Cream: Ketchup.
11. Butter, plain or salted popcorn? We don't have popcorn in Vietnam.
12. Favorite Color? Grey. .
13. What kind of car do you drive? An SUV... but I don't own it, the family does.
14. Favorite Sandwich? Philly Swiss CheeseSteak.
15. What characteristic do you despise? Singlemindedness. There are so many sides to every issue and we ought to be able to take every one.
16. Favorite flowers? The rose garden.
17. If you could go anywhere in the world for a vacation, where would you go? The Senate.
18. What color is your bathroom? Chameleon.
19. Favorite brand of clothing? Standard Issue. It's the only brand I've come to trust.
20. Where would you retire? To the White House living quarters.
21. Favorite day of the week? Moneyday.
22. What did you do for your last birthday? Talked about Vietnam. Told some half-truths. Changed my mind on a few things. We really don't make a big deal out of birthdays.
23. Where were you born? In the summer of my 27th year.
24. Favorite sport to watch on TV? Mud
25. Who do you least expect to send this back to you? Howard Dean.
26. Person you expect to send back first? Jack Chirac.
27. What fabric detergent do you use? *snort* *chuckle* BWAHAHAHAH!!!
28. Coke or Pepsi? Coke. Pepsi makes me sneeze. [Uncalled for, I know -- TS]
29. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Insufficient information given. Am I answering to a crowd in the morning or at night? M' god, how in the world can I tell you what I am before I know anything at all about ya?!
30. What is your favorite movie? "How To Marry A Millionaire".
31. What is your shoe size? I'll talk to my dentist and get back to ya.
32. Do you have any pets? Of course, not. They poop an' stuff. Though I do seem to remember kissing a hamster once. I'll ask the girls...
33. Who sent this to you? Some crooked, y'know, lying bastard named "Tuning Spork".
[I'm not going to copy/paste the text of the original post, from one year ago today, for a couple of reasons: a) The link to Jennifer points back to her Blog-City blog, and b) It was just an inane introduction to this:]
[Since I seem to have zero energy for writing a new post, I'll post this from August 5th, 2003. It's interesting that, apparently at the time, I considered Joe Leiberman to be the likely candidate to knock Howard Dean out of his growing front-runner status. John Kerry, at the time, was getting no meaningful support even though the media had touted him as the most electable of the Democrats who'd announced their candidacies. Anywho, here's:]
DEAN OR LEIBERMAN: THE DEMOCRATIC BASE HAS A DILEMMA
There's a Democratic Party base that absolutely hates George W. Bush. You know the type; they rant slogans like "selected not elected", "Bush lied, people died", "Bush=Hitler", "SUVs kill kittens", "Sic Semper Tobaccus", "Free Castro!", "We're here; We're obnoxious smelly unemployable anti-self-defense anarcho-socialist weasels; Get used to it!" They want nothing more than to see Bush defeated.
This is a large part of the crowd that loves Howard Dean, and has now made him the face of the Democrat election season. Why Howard Dean? Because Dean, more than any other Democratic candidate (though Kusinich is a close second) has presented himself as the Anti-Bush.
Although many of his positions on several "litmus test" issues for Democrats -- such as gun rights and the death penalty -- are moderate to conservative, he was the first to flat out oppose the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. He would bring the troops home, essentially gut the funding for the war on terrorism, and spend the money on a federally administered national health-care system.
But here's a curious problem that the Democrats face: Being so anti-Bush that they want him defeated at all costs in '04, they naturally gravitate toward the Anti-Bush: Dean. But, being such an Anti-Bush, Dean has little chance of defeating the President, whose job approval rating is in the 50-60% range.
The war on terrorism, the Afghanistan mission the Iraq war are all popular and well-regarded accomplishments. Unless the situation in Iraq turns significantly worse, that isn't likely to change.
The Democrats' issue is -- and could still be in a year's time -- the economy and the deficit. The only Democrat running who seems to have, in any way, positioned himself to win next November is Joe Leiberman. But the Anti-Bush, Dean, has called Leiberman "Bush Lite", and claims that being Bush Lite will not defeat Bush. Presumably, being the Anti-Bush will.
Seems to me the Democratic Party base that votes in the primaries have to make a choice between their core motivations: a) to be so anti-Bush that they nominate Howard Dean, and b) to defeat Bush, at all cost, in 2004. Can they do both?
Posted by Tuning Spork at 06:24 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
J'ever want to blog and yer all set and ready to type and you got nothin'? It's sorta like beal, where you got nothin' and that makes you lose interest in blogging. But I'm so eager to post yet I can't find the little list of post topics that I made last week when I was preparing to go live again.
Similarly, I just got a camcorder on saturday, but now I have to ideas about what to point it at. I took some footage of the dog and the cats and the garden just to see that the thing works, but that's it.
I finally put on the cable news channels tonight hoping for something interesting, but, so far, nothin'.
My tomatos are finally turning red. Woo hoo! And the raspberry bush is lit up like christmas tree with bright red raspberries. Woo hoo! The cucumbers are getting big, too. Yee haw! The peas bit the dust, though, since they weren't getting any sun after the cukes and zucchini began towering over them.
I picked a big honkin' zucchini last week and the plants have sinced collapsed the makeshift trestle. A lot of the branches twisted and don't see much more progress on the zucchs.
The acorn squash is taking over the yard! It vining into the lawn and up the tomato plants. I had to break six-foot long branches away from the 'maters and get them back on the ground. I think the'yre gonna choke the bushes behind the garden by september.
My housemate Chris and I just bought a new used refridgerator since our old one wouldn't keep things cold anymore. This is a ten-year old GE with an ice maker and an ice/cold water dispenser.
In order to hook it up, though, we'de have to drill a hole in the floor and run pipes underneath the kitchen from the sink to the 'fridge. We don't think the landlady would go for that, so Chris wants to do it without telling her.
"I never had a refridgerator with an ice maker before. I want ice! I'm gonna have ice with everything! Having ice would be so great, Bob! Think about it... ICE!"
But we have ice. They're those cold little cubes sitting in the ice cube trays! WE'VE ALWAYS HAD ICE!!!
It's amazing what makes some people all giddy.
My co-worker Lawruh seems think that I get drunk every night so she wants me to prove that I'm not an alcoholic by not having a single beer for a week. "Okay, fine," I said. But, now that I've made it a point not to have a beer, I really really want a beer.
Oh well, water and orange juice will have to do. I'll definately be making another batch of fresh squeezed homemade lemonade tomorrow. Mmmmm, citrus....
Anywho, sorry for lamo posting. I'll try to make yer visit more worthwhile tomorrow.
Well, if anybody's still dropping by hyar, I'm obviously on an unexpected hiatus. There are reasons for that, but I wont burden you with them rot. (I'm no Helen, sorry...:)
On another topic:
I missed the Oliver Stone's HBO "profile" of Uncle Fidel last night, but there's an interview with the Stoner by one Ann Louise Bardach HERE. I know you probably don't usually click on links at yer favorite blogs (I know I don't -- If you want links then go visit the Puppy Blenderer...!), but, this is worth reading... just to see Ollie squirm a little bit! Trust me on this! And I'd love to read some impressions of it
You are a MASTER of the English language!
While your English is not exactly perfect,
you are still more grammatically correct than
just about every American. Still, there is
always room for improvement...
How grammatically sound are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
Don't I talk good? :D
Well, I thought I might have a song parody ready for tonight, but I don't. So I'll just post a list written by somebody named "Marty" to some joke site that I can't recall the name of...
Top Ten Times in history when using the "f" word was appropriate:
1) "What the f**k was that?" - Mayor of Hiroshima
2) "Where did all these f**king Indians come from?" - Custer
3) "Any f**king idiot could understand that." - Einstein
4) "It does SO f**king look like her!" - Picasso
6) "How the f**k did you work that out?" - Pythagoras
5) "You want WHAT on the f**king ceiling?" - Michaelangelo
4) "I don't suppose it's gonna f**king rain." - Joan of Arc
3) "Scattered f**king showers... my ass!" - Noah
2) "I need this parade like I need a f**king hole in my head!" - J.F.K.
And the number one most appropriate reason to use the "f" word....
1) "Who the f**k is going to know?" - Bill Clinton
Contributed by: Marty
I've been singing this John Lennon lyric in my head for a week now (it doesn't have as many links as I want it to.. oh welp):
I’m sick and tired of hearing things from uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocritics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
I’ve had enough of reading things by neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky Dicky's gonna Mother Hubbard soft soap me with just a pocketful of hope
Money for dope
Money for rope
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky Dicky's gonna Mother Hubbard soft soap me with just a pocketful of soap
It’s money for dope
Money for rope
I’m sick and tired of hearing things from uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocrites
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
I’ve had enough of reading things by neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
All I want is the truth now!
Just gimme some truth now!
All I want is the truth!!
Just gimme some truth!!
All I want is the truth!!!
Just gimme the truth!!!!
Welp, it's later than I thought it was and I'm about to go blog-surfing and may not be back to post a new entry tonight. So, I figured I'd just post this little scribble that I jotted down at work this afternoon:
freedom is choice
to claim that you can blame someone else for your choices is the same as saying that your choices come from someone else
I got nothin'.
I had a great idea for a post but I'm drawing blanks. So, let's try something new!
I cordially invite all of you to compose a single sentence. The only stipulation is that it ends with the words: you might be a Pinko!
Something along the lines of:
If you honestly believe that offering a man only what he needs
will inspire him to produce according to his ability: you might be a Pinko.
Have fun and lemme hear from ya!!! C'mo-o-o-o-o-o-o-n...! Let the comments be the post!
I don't know why I remembered this this afternoon, but, the best scene in Psycho II was the final scene. Mrs. Spool tells Norman that she's his real mother as he gives her a cup of tea and *POW* clocks her on the back of the head with a shovel, stuffs her (presumed) and sets her in the bedroom window.
I didn't see the shovel smackdown coming, and I think that was the first and only time I actually laughed out loud at a murder scene.
If you own a deli, and I walk in one morning and order a toasted bagel with cream cheese, don't do any of these things:
Don't grab a bagel from your freezer;
don't thaw said frozen bagel in your microwave;
don't smoosh down the thawed bagel in order to fit it into your standard bread toaster because you don't have a proper bagel toaster;
don't hock off a 1/2-inch square from a cream cheese log (that looks like a Velveeta log - only white);
don't wrap the thick-as-chilled-Play-Do-stuffed lukewarm doughy bricks (or any hot or warm breads) in aluminum foil!!!
Do something else. Thank you. :)
Given my squirrels-in-the-attic problem, I searched Google to see where I could find some fox urine. Since there are people who study Google searches, for various reasons, I wonder if fox urine Connecticut might someday make someone's list of "least effective porn searches".
And, finally: Homemade bread rules! I made a loaf of saffron & fennel wheat bread that was awesome on Sunday. Mmmmm, bread...
I go make dinner now!
(If, for some reason, you're not familiar with the Bud Light commercials and aren't sure how to read this post, you can go HERE and listen to some of the greatest commercials ever produced!)
Duff Lite presents real American heroes.
*real American heroes...*
For your untiring determination to find a way to sell three books for a dollar; today we salute you: Mister Pop-up Ad inventor.
*...mister pop-up ad inventor...!*
We salute you for showing us where to go to trace our geneology, and for reminding us all of the high school classmates that it took us decades to finally forget.
the girls: *...who brought the pile of post-its..."
When they said that you can't make a web surfer read a banner ad you had an idea: to upload advertisements by opening up a brand new window.
*...ooo, don't let the flies in...*
Perhaps you're watching us on one of those nifty mini spy cams, how else could you know that we would have taken that trip to Hawaii if the airline tickets had been just a little cheaper.
And how can we salute you without mentioning one very special word: Viagra.
*...things are popping up all over...!*
We watch in awe as the pop-up ads line up on our task bar like little cyber billboards posted along the information super-highway, just waiting to tell us how our comparitively low I.Q.s can match us up with the partner of our dreams.
the girls: *...who's the double-digit doofus...?*
So crack open a Duff Lite because whether we're refinancing a mortgage, shopping for a penile implant or getting a medical diagnosis by filling out a short on-line questionaire, we know that fullfilling our lives to the degree that we now can just wouldn't be possible without the chutzpah you've shown by simply creating a way to bombard us with so many opportunities -- and making us have to take positive action if we wish NOT to be bombarded.
*...ooo, way to grab us all by the short hairs...*
We thank you, Mister Pop-up Ad inventor, for creating an internet experience that makes us long for a trip to the dentist.
*...my teeth are grinning; they tha-a-a-nk you...*
Duff Brewery; Springfield, USA.
As you may have noticed, my blogging has been pretty anemic lately. I've been busy with other biz and haven't had much time to think up cool post ideas.
I'm gonna be pretty distracted by real world stuff for about another week to 10 days, so I'll just say right now that blogging will be extremely light or non-existant for a short while.
I'll still be lurking around other blogs now and then. I mean, I gotta keep my sanity somehow.
Of course, this means that I wont be doing much of a job of defending my crown in the King of the Blogs competition, and I'm sure to be a goner by week's end. Oh, well, *sniff* 'twas a brief but memorable reign.
Jim's Bestofme Symphony #4 is up. I haven't read 'em yet, but it's bound to be non-stop quality post after post! Woo hoo!
(Jennifer submitted one of mine (thanks Jen!!), and I submitted one of my own. The drink warning was written by Jim, not me, btw.)
(Just received this from a buddy):
Tom had been in business for 25 years and was finally sick of
He quit his job and bought 50 acres of land in Alaska as far
from humanity as possible. He saw the postman once a week and
got groceries once a month. Otherwise, it was total peace and
After six months or so of total isolation, someone knocked on
his door. He opened it and there was a huge, bearded man
standing there. "Name's Lars, your neighbor from forty miles
up the road. Having a Christmas party Friday night... thought
you might like to come... about 5:00."
"Great," says Tom, "after six months out here I'm ready to meet
some local folks. Thank you!"
Lars is leaving, he stops. "Gotta warn you... There's gonna be
"Not a problem," says Tom. "After 25 years in business, I can
drink with the best of 'em."
Again, as he starts to leave, Lars stops. "More 'n likely
gonna be some fightin' too."
Tom says, "Well, I get along with people, I'll be alright.
I'll be there. Thanks again."
Once again Lars turns from the door. "More 'n likely be some
wild sex, too."
"Now that's really not a problem," says Tom, warming to the
idea. "I've been all alone for six months! I'll definitely
be there. By the way, what should I wear?"
Lars stops in the door again and says, "Whatever you want.
Just gonna be the two of us."
For some reason I was getting a lot of ink hazing on the letterhead that I was printing this afternoon. I grabbed my pH strips to check the acidity of the press's fountain solution and found that it was 6.5 (ideal pH is about 4.5 to 5).
Bored with printing, I got the bright and productive idea to test the pH of other liquids that I had sitting around.
The pH scale runs from 0 to 14 (7 being neutral). 0-6.5 is an acid; 7.5-14 is a base.
Here are some results:
Vinegar: pH 2 (very acidic)
Amonia: pH 8 (somewhat of a base)
Tap water: pH 4.5
Anti-static spray: pH 4.5
Deglazing solvent (strong stuff): pH 4.5
Coffee: pH 4.5
B&G Hot Chopped Pepper Sandwich Topper Sauce: pH 3
Pepsi: pH 2 (same as vinegar?!!!)
I got nothin'.
"I can see for kilometers and kilometers and kilometers and kilometers..."
"Twenty-eight grams of prevention is worth .45 kilograms of cure."
--Benjamin Franklin (or, was it Thomas Edison?)
"Two centimeter worm, two centimeter worm, measuring the merrigolds..."
--traditional song lyric
"Gonna give it all away / to a registered charity/
Gonna give all away / All I need is .45 liters a day /
if we ever get outta here..."
--Paul McCartney & Wings
"If you give 'em 2.5 centimeters they'll take 1.6 kilometers."
"15.5 decimeters / Eyes are blue / Could she could she koochie koo /
Has anybody seen my gal...?"
"...'Cep' for my Big 250 millimeter...Record...!"
"I wouldn't touch that with a 30 decimeter pole."
"Whew...feels like 90 minus 32 times 5/9ths in the shade."
--cliche for a hot day
I got nothin'.
A Russian, a Cuban, an American and a lawyer are on a train.
The Russian takes a bottle of the Stolychnaya Vodka out of his backpack; pours some into a glass, drinks it, and says: "In Russia we have the best vodka in all the world! Nowhere in the world you can find Vodka as good as that that we produce in Ukrainya. And we have so much of it, that we can just throw it away..."
With that, he opens the window and tosses the rest of the bottle out. The Cuban, American and lawyer are quite impressed.
The Cuban takes out a pack of Havanas. He grabs one of them, lights it and begins to smoke it saying to the Russian, American and lawyer: "In Cuba we have the finest cigars, and we have so much of them that we can just throw them away...".
Saying that, he opens the window and tosses the pack of Havanas through the window. Again, the others are quite impressed. Satisfied, the Russian and Cuban then look at the American.
The American shrugs his shoulders, stands up, opens the window and tosses the lawyer through it.
Looking through my old stuff again.
English was always my favorite subject, but I always scored poorly in it. I was more interested in reading and writing what I wanted to, rather than reading and writing about what I was assigned to.
Here's the text of a paper I wrote senior year in High School.
Here I am in room E-109 on the 8th of May, 1981. 2nd Period. It is Friday, and 9:23 at this moment.
I am supposed to be writing a summary of the short story "Bella Flease Gave A Party" which I did not read. I did however read "Widow's Son" and "Miss Brill" for a quiz I missed yesterday for being absent. But I just discovered that there was no quiz given yesterday. Oh brother!
I've just been returned two older quizzes, and I got a "60" on each of them.
I suppose Mr. Varga thinks I am writing a summary right now. He just glanced at my paper from half-way across the room and seems to believe I really understand the story.
Well, I shall be graduating from this place in a little over a month from now. I could wait. I can't see the point in spending a fortune on the senior prom. How rediculous!
Well now I am at the bottom of the first page and Varga must think I'm brilliant. I can't wait 'til he sees me not hand this in. Maybe I'll hand it in anyway. Why not?
It is now 9:33 and ten minutes have passed since I began writing this nonsense. I should learn to budget my time more efficiently. I could have been reading the story in this time!
P.S. If I should hand this in, then don't judge me too harshly. I am young and inexperienced in the wasting of time (although, I must admit, I am good at it!).
I read and took the quiz (wrote the summary) and scored a 95. "Bella Flease Gave A Party" was one of the few stories I actually read that year, and that grade was one of my proudest moments.
I hope Mr. Varga is still teaching.
And, now: a blast from my past!
Welp, once again I got nothin'. So what I've done is gone back through a collection of old stuff I wrote in High School.
For my Creative Writing class's yearbook I did an advice Column called "Dear Malcolm." (Malcolm was a pen name I gave myself back then. Why Malcolm? Because I'd seen A Clockwork Orange a bazillion times!)
Anyway, here's one entry from that column (and you'll herein discover that my occassional, yet well-placed, use of foul language in my writing is long-standing). The questions for the column were submitted by my Creative Writing classmates.
I have a little doggie who used to sit and beg. My doggie tumbled down the stairs and broke his little leg.
Now my doggie will be walking funny permanently and I don't think I want him anymore. Help me.
What the hell is wrong with you?! Have you no heart nor soul?! You must be a really shallow and selfish excuse for a human being!
Don't you love your doggie?! Apparently not! You didn't even mention his name!!
There are plenty of nice people out there who would love to give that poor doggie a home!
Imagine; not wanting your dog simply because he broke his leg. Jeeze, you probably pushed him! Asshole.
"What's the difference between a vegetarian burger and a regular beef burger? Both are just processed vegetables, the former had the processing done by machines and the latter done naturally by a cow. And which one tastes better? Nature's way of course. When a cow eats vegetables, it has this almost magical ability to sort out only the tasty parts of vegetables and then repackage it in the form of yummy meat. But those nature-hating vegetarians think they can outdo God's way and thus are arrogant and evil."
Heh. I'm not gonna go quotin' FrankJ everyday or nothin', I just thought that this particular randomly generated quote was too yummy not to be shared twice. :)