For those of you that I don't know, how did you find out about this site?
a) Fascinated with 1words.com through 1000words.com. Decided to take a chance.
b) Saw URL on tattoo (or "tat").
c) Guy with spiked tail and pitchfork told me. Said his name was Jesus. He talked the talk.
d) Mistyped "mancakecity.com". I want my man cake!
e) Looking for hot "aimal sex". Decided lukewarm comedy okay substitute.
f) (None of the above) ________________
August 27, 2003
August 26, 2003
Tomato Toes
Why isn’t there a brand of corn called "Children of the Corn"? This is just the type of nutritional shortsightedness caused by a lack of vitamins that makes me angry. Drug czars and pine green giants lament that kids don't eat more vegetables, yet there isn't not one corn company brave enough to draw little faces possessed by an evil force on all the kernels.
Of course, if you are a super-intelligent German, perhaps created by Nazi scientists in the 1930s and recently awaken from your cryogenic chamber, the solution is obvious: Herr Grosse Dollars, bilden diese produkte!
Peas in a Rod—A white rod with this on it: "Hey kids! Sugar inside!" The rod is stuffed with peas. That'll teach those muthafuckers.
BroccoDoReMi—Move over Snap, Crackle, and Pop. Broccoli stems and singing sensations Do, Re, and Mi are going to Vitamin K-ick it old school.
Mixed Vegetballs—Chunks of carrots, squash, cauliflower, and tomatoes, joining forces for the first time in a duct-taped ball. Dunk it in the hoop, then in your mouth.
Mystery Bag: This bag is covered in colorful question marks. It has no name, no logo, no nutrition facts, and no UPC code. Sometimes it appears in the freezer section. Other times in seafood, or inside a box of Cocoa Puffs. What wild surprise could it be? There's only one way to find out! And that way is to read this next sentence: the bag always contains brussel sprouts.
Of course, if you are a super-intelligent German, perhaps created by Nazi scientists in the 1930s and recently awaken from your cryogenic chamber, the solution is obvious: Herr Grosse Dollars, bilden diese produkte!
Peas in a Rod—A white rod with this on it: "Hey kids! Sugar inside!" The rod is stuffed with peas. That'll teach those muthafuckers.
BroccoDoReMi—Move over Snap, Crackle, and Pop. Broccoli stems and singing sensations Do, Re, and Mi are going to Vitamin K-ick it old school.
Mixed Vegetballs—Chunks of carrots, squash, cauliflower, and tomatoes, joining forces for the first time in a duct-taped ball. Dunk it in the hoop, then in your mouth.
Mystery Bag: This bag is covered in colorful question marks. It has no name, no logo, no nutrition facts, and no UPC code. Sometimes it appears in the freezer section. Other times in seafood, or inside a box of Cocoa Puffs. What wild surprise could it be? There's only one way to find out! And that way is to read this next sentence: the bag always contains brussel sprouts.
August 23, 2003
Iraqi Blog
A young Iraqi recently started a blog called Badghad Burning. Whatever your ideology, it's worth reading. What she says is much more illuminating about the Iraqis perception of the fallout after the war than the scattered one-sentence quotes from Iraqis that have made their way in newspaper stories or the nightly news.
August 22, 2003
Wow
I loved playing this adventure game . It takes about 15-30 minutes to complete. Sure, you may be at work, but it's Friday. Everybody plays adventure games on Friday.
Pickup Lines
When you ask someone, "Do you come here often?" aren't you really asking that person, "Are you a drunkard?" There has to be a better way to introduce yourself. Like, "Hey. A/S/L? Or, "I want to pop you like a zit on a teenage delivery boy." As long as you don't use a cliche, you're bound to do okay. Here are some examples on what not to do:
"My name is [insert name]. Remember it, because you'll be screaming it all night. Oh, crap. I forgot to insert my name."
"i've had my eye on you ever since I saw you from the bushes outside your apartment."
YOU: "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
PERSON: [face and body charred] "SFJXEERARR!"
"I don't have a phone, because I hate technology, and I write manifestos and send them to newspapers, but if I get one, and I lose my number, can I borrow yours?"
"Psst. Cover me. I just farted."
"You're so hot that you melt the elastic in my Underoos. My Superman Underoos."
YOU: "Can I borrow a quarter?"
PERSON: "Sure."
YOU: "Can I borrow another quarter?"
PERSON: "Okay."
YOU: "Can I have another one?"
PERSON: "Why?"
YOU: "Because I'm going to call my Mom and tell her I just met the most beautiful person in the world. But then I remembered pay phones are now 50 cents. And then I thought, "What if she isn't home?" You see, the answering machine is set to pick up at two rings, and..."
YOU: "Can I take your picture?"
PERSON: "Why? So Santa can know exactly what you want for Chirstmas?"
YOU: "Actually, I'm just perverted."
"My name is [insert name]. Remember it, because you'll be screaming it all night. Oh, crap. I forgot to insert my name."
"i've had my eye on you ever since I saw you from the bushes outside your apartment."
YOU: "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"
PERSON: [face and body charred] "SFJXEERARR!"
"I don't have a phone, because I hate technology, and I write manifestos and send them to newspapers, but if I get one, and I lose my number, can I borrow yours?"
"Psst. Cover me. I just farted."
"You're so hot that you melt the elastic in my Underoos. My Superman Underoos."
YOU: "Can I borrow a quarter?"
PERSON: "Sure."
YOU: "Can I borrow another quarter?"
PERSON: "Okay."
YOU: "Can I have another one?"
PERSON: "Why?"
YOU: "Because I'm going to call my Mom and tell her I just met the most beautiful person in the world. But then I remembered pay phones are now 50 cents. And then I thought, "What if she isn't home?" You see, the answering machine is set to pick up at two rings, and..."
YOU: "Can I take your picture?"
PERSON: "Why? So Santa can know exactly what you want for Chirstmas?"
YOU: "Actually, I'm just perverted."
August 20, 2003
Why I'm Single
I just called someone who responded to a personal ad a friend of mine put in the City Paper. He wasn't there. BEEEEP. I was about to leave a message when I realized I couldn't remember my phone number. ME: "Ummmmm....[click]"
I'm going to call back in a few minutes in a different voice.
I'm going to call back in a few minutes in a different voice.
Hey, Kids
Don't bother visiting Heineken's web site if you are under 21. You'll never make it through their impenetrable security procedure.
You Write Like A Girl
The Gender Genie says it can guess your gender based on a sample of your writing. I entered a passage from my blog. The program said I was a girl. I tried a few more entries. Female, female, female. Time to rig the result. I wrote, fifty times: "I have a nutsack. It is large and hairy." Female.
Passages from several other blogs? All female. Washington Post article? Female. Passage from Maxim's web site? Female. Comedy Central's description of "The Man Show"? Female.
Frustrated in my failure to find a selection of writing this algorithm finds manly, I decided to pull out both of my NRA-sponsored shotguns and write this:
Mmmm. Steak. I like football. And shooting things. Like deer. I can crush a beer can on my forehead. But it hurts. Long sentences suck. You know what else sucks? Your mamma. Ha ha ha. Alpha Phi rules!
So, what do you think? Female or male?
Passages from several other blogs? All female. Washington Post article? Female. Passage from Maxim's web site? Female. Comedy Central's description of "The Man Show"? Female.
Frustrated in my failure to find a selection of writing this algorithm finds manly, I decided to pull out both of my NRA-sponsored shotguns and write this:
Mmmm. Steak. I like football. And shooting things. Like deer. I can crush a beer can on my forehead. But it hurts. Long sentences suck. You know what else sucks? Your mamma. Ha ha ha. Alpha Phi rules!
So, what do you think? Female or male?
August 19, 2003
Dumped
This entry is only loosely based on real events.
My therapist dumped me today. He said our relationship was going nowhere and he wanted to see other people. I reacted desperately, which, I suppose, being my therapist, he expected. "It’s the constant napping, isn't it? I’ll stop, I swear. I'll get a job. A real job, not an imaginary lemonade stand. I'm through selling imagination. Really. Trust me."
Of course, he couldn’t trust me. I have less follow-through than a Gary Coleman uppercut. (Look, give me a break. It’s 1:45 A.M.) This is the conversation we had 15 minutes before:
THERAPIST: "You said you would apply to three temp agencies last week. How did you do?"
ME: "Temp agencies?"
THERAPIST: "Yup."
ME: "Hmmm. That's a good idea."
THERAPIST: "You said that last week."
ME: "Oh, yeah."
THERAPIST: "And the week before that."
ME "Has anyone ever told you that you have an excellent memory?"
THERAPIST: "What stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "God?"
THERAPIST: "God stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "You said it, not me."
THERAPIST: "Look, I don't want to be the bad guy--"
ME: "Thanks! So, how about that sport team? Man, they look really, uh, sporty this year."
So it’s over. I feel as depressed as I did two years ago when my hair stylist threw down her scissors and yelled, "You give me nothing to work with!" before storming out the door, crying. As the door squealed shut, a gust of wind swept over my hair, waving the few remaining follicles on my forehead back and forth. Goodbye, goodbye.
My therapist dumped me today. He said our relationship was going nowhere and he wanted to see other people. I reacted desperately, which, I suppose, being my therapist, he expected. "It’s the constant napping, isn't it? I’ll stop, I swear. I'll get a job. A real job, not an imaginary lemonade stand. I'm through selling imagination. Really. Trust me."
Of course, he couldn’t trust me. I have less follow-through than a Gary Coleman uppercut. (Look, give me a break. It’s 1:45 A.M.) This is the conversation we had 15 minutes before:
THERAPIST: "You said you would apply to three temp agencies last week. How did you do?"
ME: "Temp agencies?"
THERAPIST: "Yup."
ME: "Hmmm. That's a good idea."
THERAPIST: "You said that last week."
ME: "Oh, yeah."
THERAPIST: "And the week before that."
ME "Has anyone ever told you that you have an excellent memory?"
THERAPIST: "What stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "God?"
THERAPIST: "God stopped you from applying to any temp agencies?"
ME: "You said it, not me."
THERAPIST: "Look, I don't want to be the bad guy--"
ME: "Thanks! So, how about that sport team? Man, they look really, uh, sporty this year."
So it’s over. I feel as depressed as I did two years ago when my hair stylist threw down her scissors and yelled, "You give me nothing to work with!" before storming out the door, crying. As the door squealed shut, a gust of wind swept over my hair, waving the few remaining follicles on my forehead back and forth. Goodbye, goodbye.
Anyone Need a Wig?
I trimmed my body hair today, quashing Sasquatch, Deconstructing Harry, and giving my two albino nipples the gift of light. I also shaved my back hair using the beard trimmer on my electric razor. Do you know where those spots on your back are that you can’t scratch? I do. For $5 I’ll take a photo and send you the road map. For $7 I won’t send the photo. (Bada-bing!)
The benefits were immediate. No more towel burns from drying off. I now run faster than the lowly cheetah. And I finally found that tattoo I got one very blurry night in Ocean City when I was a freshman in college. It’s a good thing monkeys wearing diapers that say “Bad Boy” on them never go out of style.
The benefits were immediate. No more towel burns from drying off. I now run faster than the lowly cheetah. And I finally found that tattoo I got one very blurry night in Ocean City when I was a freshman in college. It’s a good thing monkeys wearing diapers that say “Bad Boy” on them never go out of style.
August 16, 2003
So You Want To Be Employed
Guess what step 1 is for this Federal government writer-editor position I am applying for? I'll give you a hint: it invloves answering 156 FRIGGIN' QUESTIONS. I haven't check what step 2 is because THESE INANE QUESTIONS HAVE CRUSHED MY DESIRE TO LIVE. Who the hell remembers what grade they got in their high school oral communication class? "Have you owned and successfully managed your own profit-making business?" Yes, yes I have. It's called Suck My Nutsack, Gov'mint (Inc). We're open for business 24 hours a day.
You know you're career is going downhill...
...when a stripper sues a tabloid for saying she had sex with you.
August 15, 2003
Remove Meal from Oven with Glove
If I worked for a frozen food company, I would write really dumb instructions for the boxes, just to see if people would follow them.
“Wrap burrito in tin foil. Put into microwave for five minutes. Come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy.”
“Wrap burrito in tin foil. Put into microwave for five minutes. Come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy.”
Eight Is Not E-nuff
Is Schwarzenegger trying to assemble a political team or a sitcom? First Warren Buffet joins. Then George Schultz. Now there's a rumor that Rob Lowe is going to hop on the Bahnwagon. And this is ignoring Gary Coleman's recent comment that "it would be cool if he could join the Schwarzenegger campaign."
On that note, this web site has several funny articles about the "Little G for Governor" campaign.
Update: Lowe is in.
On that note, this web site has several funny articles about the "Little G for Governor" campaign.
Update: Lowe is in.
Guess Which Presidency?
"We are here plunged in politics funnier than words can express. Very great issues are involved...But the amusing thing is that no one talks about real interests. By common consent they agree to let these alone. We are afraid to discuss them. Instead of this the press is engaged in a most amusing dispute whether Mr. Cleveland has an illegitimate child and did or did not live with more than one mistress."
--Henry Adams, 19th century political commentator, quoted in A People's History of the United States (pg 258).
--Henry Adams, 19th century political commentator, quoted in A People's History of the United States (pg 258).
Great Movie, Great Song, Great Book
I just watched Solaris (revised version). It's an atypical science fiction movie about choice, loss, and a deep desire I suspect we all have and are able to suppress solely for the fact that it can't be fulfilled (in the real world).
Warning: Movie contains no aliens, no laser guns, and occasional periods with no dialogue.
"The Shy Retirer" by Arab Strap (CD info)
A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. This is the most revealing history book I have ever read. Okay, I've only read two history books, but this one is definitely the shiz-nit. I'm only a third of the way through it and already it has helped me understand the other forces behind the creation and growth of this country. For example, it may be obvious that people with power and wealth will do what they can to keep their power and wealth (and gain more), but this is the first history book I read that uses this principle to explain part of the motivation for America being formed, rather than idolizing the founders of the country as being solely motivated by a passionate belief in freedom and liberty.
I'll post a few quotes from the book in the next several days. I highly recommend buying a copy, but if you read it and didn't like it, I'm interested in knowing why.
Warning: Movie contains no aliens, no laser guns, and occasional periods with no dialogue.
"The Shy Retirer" by Arab Strap (CD info)
A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn. This is the most revealing history book I have ever read. Okay, I've only read two history books, but this one is definitely the shiz-nit. I'm only a third of the way through it and already it has helped me understand the other forces behind the creation and growth of this country. For example, it may be obvious that people with power and wealth will do what they can to keep their power and wealth (and gain more), but this is the first history book I read that uses this principle to explain part of the motivation for America being formed, rather than idolizing the founders of the country as being solely motivated by a passionate belief in freedom and liberty.
I'll post a few quotes from the book in the next several days. I highly recommend buying a copy, but if you read it and didn't like it, I'm interested in knowing why.
August 14, 2003
Graphics Request
This chart of military hand signals is pretty funny. I'd like to try captioning a chart like this. Does anyone know where I can get a graphic of a similar instructional chart (e.g. airline safety)? I would offer to rename the site a moniker of your choosing for a few days, but you can already do that.
FOX News Loves Al Franken
Stories like this make me happy to be alive. This lawsuit is almost too funny to be true.
August 13, 2003
What Blog Personality Are You?
This test is a short version of the Myers-Briggs personality test (the one that classifies you as one of 8 personality types-- INFT, ESTJ, etc.) The results are rewritten to tell you what type of blogger you are. It's only four questions but I agree with the answer (see comments). So, what blog personality are you? (Thanks to Sorting Thoughts for the link to the test.)
Mysteries of the Universe
How does Colin Quinn get work? I ask this question seriously. It keeps me up at night. I can speak better than him, and I stutter. Someone should give him a medal for being brave enough to write his own jokes, and them whack him with another medal to make him stop. What does this twitchy ball of energy do before delivering every one-liner, snort one?
If C.Q. were a magazine, it would be written in crayon, a third of the pages would be numbered, and every issue would have a 16-page photo spread of three chimpanzees and a movie monkey flinging crap at each other. Mysteriously, it would only sell four issues a month but still be published for three years.
Last night in his monologue, he complained that he has never gotten invited to host an awards show. How about instead being grateful for the existence of inertia? Colin Quinn should hire a conceptual artist to make a statue representing inertia and one-up the Muslims he makes fun in every show by kissing its ass six times a day.
Okay, my crankiness is over. Thanks for reading.
If C.Q. were a magazine, it would be written in crayon, a third of the pages would be numbered, and every issue would have a 16-page photo spread of three chimpanzees and a movie monkey flinging crap at each other. Mysteriously, it would only sell four issues a month but still be published for three years.
Last night in his monologue, he complained that he has never gotten invited to host an awards show. How about instead being grateful for the existence of inertia? Colin Quinn should hire a conceptual artist to make a statue representing inertia and one-up the Muslims he makes fun in every show by kissing its ass six times a day.
Okay, my crankiness is over. Thanks for reading.
August 12, 2003
Another Reason I Love My Mom
I ate dinner with my Mom tonight. She made soy-marinated fish and a bowl of pesto. Afterwards, we talked about work and death. Her mother passed away last week, and a few days ago, she started a potentially permanent position in the FDA that has more pay and responsibility than the one she is on leave for.
You know how there are a few thoughts that are more difficult to share than others? I hesitated before I told her this: I worry a lot that people I love will suddenly die. My mom reassured me in a way that only she could:
MOM: "Don’t worry. I’m not planning on dying. I just got a promotion."
Mom, thank you for being such a nut.
(Afterwards, when I asked if I could write about this on my web page, she clapped her hands and said: "Yes! I’m going to be famous!")
You know how there are a few thoughts that are more difficult to share than others? I hesitated before I told her this: I worry a lot that people I love will suddenly die. My mom reassured me in a way that only she could:
MOM: "Don’t worry. I’m not planning on dying. I just got a promotion."
Mom, thank you for being such a nut.
(Afterwards, when I asked if I could write about this on my web page, she clapped her hands and said: "Yes! I’m going to be famous!")
August 11, 2003
No Problem!
I love taking Yahoo news headlines literally.
Unabomber seeks return of papers, bomb
"Unabomber Ted Kaczynski has asked the government to return his personal papers and other materials, including a bomb seized by the FBI."
FBI AGENT1: "If we give you your bomb back, do you promise not to use it?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT2: "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT1: "Stick a needle in your eye?"
KACZYNSKI: "I promise."
FBI AGENT2: "Okay, Ted. Here you g--"
FBI AGENT3: [from behind one-way glass] "Murphy, wait! He has his fingers crossed!"
Unabomber seeks return of papers, bomb
"Unabomber Ted Kaczynski has asked the government to return his personal papers and other materials, including a bomb seized by the FBI."
FBI AGENT1: "If we give you your bomb back, do you promise not to use it?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT2: "Cross your heart and hope to die?"
KACZYNSKI: "Yes."
FBI AGENT1: "Stick a needle in your eye?"
KACZYNSKI: "I promise."
FBI AGENT2: "Okay, Ted. Here you g--"
FBI AGENT3: [from behind one-way glass] "Murphy, wait! He has his fingers crossed!"
August 10, 2003
Somebody explain this to me
On the billboard of a local gas station:
"$17.95 Oil Change! Ladies Day!"
"$17.95 Oil Change! Ladies Day!"
August 08, 2003
LOL!
Which of these headlines appeared on AOL today?
a) Armless child embraces life
b) Armless but not harmless: paraplegic killer strikes again
c) Armless child embraces life...without arms! No, really. We're fuckin' serious.
a) Armless child embraces life
b) Armless but not harmless: paraplegic killer strikes again
c) Armless child embraces life...without arms! No, really. We're fuckin' serious.
August 07, 2003
My Mom, Stealing Laughs
My mom was born to be a professional heckler. A sample of her comments Wednesday night at the comedy club:
COMEDIAN: "I haven't been doing well lately. My girlfriend broke up with me."
MOM: [to us] "Lucky her."
(in the middle of the act of one lame comic)
MOM: [loudly] "Let's go!"
During the last comic, Michele kicked me to get my attention. I turned and saw my Mom, pretending to be asleep. The comic saw her and had a sad look on his face.
After the show, Mom found a youth group having a late pizza dinner in the hotel. She and Michele barged into the room and zeroed in on the pizza. One of the adults asked her if she was part of the group. I forgot what answer she said she gave him, but whatever it was, it had absolutely no effect on them each walking out with a slice of pizza. The two of them then badgered Evan (Michele's boyfriend) to steal them some more pizza.
M & M then prodded me for the next five minutes to show my blood allegiance by stealing a slice. Keep in mind, neither of them were the least bit hungry at this point. They just wanted to make sure I was still committed to the clan. Now, I have no moral problems redistributing free food. It makes me feel like Jesus. But I was tired from pre-performance stress and I have a knee-jerk reaction to peer pressure, so I picked this as my one monthly fight I get to win.
Eventually, their chicanery-induced adrenaline highs subsided and they let up their attack. We ended the night sitting on the curb outside eating slices of a decent vegetarian pie while Mom gave us tips on how to eat for free if we ever become homeless.
Ah. Family.
COMEDIAN: "I haven't been doing well lately. My girlfriend broke up with me."
MOM: [to us] "Lucky her."
(in the middle of the act of one lame comic)
MOM: [loudly] "Let's go!"
During the last comic, Michele kicked me to get my attention. I turned and saw my Mom, pretending to be asleep. The comic saw her and had a sad look on his face.
After the show, Mom found a youth group having a late pizza dinner in the hotel. She and Michele barged into the room and zeroed in on the pizza. One of the adults asked her if she was part of the group. I forgot what answer she said she gave him, but whatever it was, it had absolutely no effect on them each walking out with a slice of pizza. The two of them then badgered Evan (Michele's boyfriend) to steal them some more pizza.
M & M then prodded me for the next five minutes to show my blood allegiance by stealing a slice. Keep in mind, neither of them were the least bit hungry at this point. They just wanted to make sure I was still committed to the clan. Now, I have no moral problems redistributing free food. It makes me feel like Jesus. But I was tired from pre-performance stress and I have a knee-jerk reaction to peer pressure, so I picked this as my one monthly fight I get to win.
Eventually, their chicanery-induced adrenaline highs subsided and they let up their attack. We ended the night sitting on the curb outside eating slices of a decent vegetarian pie while Mom gave us tips on how to eat for free if we ever become homeless.
Ah. Family.
Schwarzenegger for Governor?
The campaign speech:
"It's time for a recall—A Total Recall. Ha ha ha ha."
The stressful week before the election:
"Who told you could eat my cookies?"
The day after the election:
"You people are soft! You lack discipline! Well, I've got news for you. YOU ARE MINE NOW! YOU BELONG TO ME!"
Interviewing people for government posts:
AIDE: [whispering] "Sir, perhaps we should base our hires on qualifications rather than--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "Shut up! We will do this my way. [to applicant] Who is your daddy, and what does he do?"
Two years in the term:
REPORTER: "Mr. Governor, about your recent health problems--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "It's not a tu-mor!"
"It's time for a recall—A Total Recall. Ha ha ha ha."
The stressful week before the election:
"Who told you could eat my cookies?"
The day after the election:
"You people are soft! You lack discipline! Well, I've got news for you. YOU ARE MINE NOW! YOU BELONG TO ME!"
Interviewing people for government posts:
AIDE: [whispering] "Sir, perhaps we should base our hires on qualifications rather than--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "Shut up! We will do this my way. [to applicant] Who is your daddy, and what does he do?"
Two years in the term:
REPORTER: "Mr. Governor, about your recent health problems--"
SCHWARZENEGGER: "It's not a tu-mor!"
Back in a Day or Two
I have family visiting so I might not post for the next few days. I don't even have time to find an animated GIF of a monkey dancing for your amusement. Sorry.
Archenemy
After reading my post on a personal ad, my archenemy, unprovoked and for absolutely no reason other than to inflict another cruelty upon myself, placed a personal ad in the CityPaper under my name. The ad, as you can see for yourself, is absolutely devoid of truth, wit, and creativity. Its only two notable traits is that it manages to take a crap on the English language in less than 50 words and, unlike 90% of said archenemy's writing, is miraculously free of misspellings.
Okay, the ad is mostly true, but that's not the point. The point is that I am a wonderful person who treats all my friends kindly and never, ever does anything mean like play practical jokes on them. Any comments otherwise are complete lies, probably said by Lenny McLiar of Liartown.
Okay, the ad is mostly true, but that's not the point. The point is that I am a wonderful person who treats all my friends kindly and never, ever does anything mean like play practical jokes on them. Any comments otherwise are complete lies, probably said by Lenny McLiar of Liartown.
August 06, 2003
Acres of Hilarity
I just got back from doing stand-up at WiseAcres. My confidence was shaken from a couple bad experiences I had in a row, so I wrote and practiced my routine every day for the past week, stacked the audience with my family, and went up hoping for the best. I'm happy with how it turned out. Most of my material got a great response. I stuttered more severely than I would have liked, and it got in the way in a few places, but I did a decent job making jokes about it with the audience.
As much as I hate bombing, at least those times give me funnier stories to write.
I'm not planning on putting an mp3 of the performance or any ones in the near future. It's kind of like the fifth kid in the family who gets screwed with the baby pictures. Wow. Another baby. Woo. Take it to Sears for a family photo once a year and be done with it. But if you still want to listen to it, I'll digitalize it and email you a link.
As much as I hate bombing, at least those times give me funnier stories to write.
I'm not planning on putting an mp3 of the performance or any ones in the near future. It's kind of like the fifth kid in the family who gets screwed with the baby pictures. Wow. Another baby. Woo. Take it to Sears for a family photo once a year and be done with it. But if you still want to listen to it, I'll digitalize it and email you a link.
August 05, 2003
Personals
I'm going to sign up for a few online dating sites soon. I've been thinking of lines that will make me sound both sexy and mysterious, like Barry White sung in Cantonese. What I have so far:
Things You Should Know About Me
I like mittens. They’re gloves without problems.
GET OFF MY HEAD, PANTS!
Drinking/Smoking Habits
The only thing I smoke is the pipe—The Pipe of Not Smoking. And I stuff it with the Tobacco of Occasionally Drinking.
Celebrity I Resemble Most
Hitler. (Note: My member name is Hip Hop Hitler and my photo is Hitler with a Rastafarian cap.)
Occupation
Breakdancing Fool that will take you to school*
* Sir Mix-a-Lot Elementary. Principal: Grand Master Flash
Things You Should Know About Me
I like mittens. They’re gloves without problems.
GET OFF MY HEAD, PANTS!
Drinking/Smoking Habits
The only thing I smoke is the pipe—The Pipe of Not Smoking. And I stuff it with the Tobacco of Occasionally Drinking.
Celebrity I Resemble Most
Hitler. (Note: My member name is Hip Hop Hitler and my photo is Hitler with a Rastafarian cap.)
Occupation
Breakdancing Fool that will take you to school*
* Sir Mix-a-Lot Elementary. Principal: Grand Master Flash
Comments
I added a comments feature. Now, instead of screaming and angrily shaking your fist at the monitor, you can write comments like "This post is so funny that it made me do the Maori Happy Shake Fist Dance." Or: "I love Captain Piccard too. Set phasers to love." What fun! I use this feature to leave obnoxious comments on my friends' web sites. (Read comment, then read next day's comment.)
August 04, 2003
New Title
Sammy requested that I change the blog title to "Glass Squash for Pumpkin Bob." I turned to my Number 1 and said in my best Captain Piccard voice: "Make it so." Although my Number 1 is a balloon with a grumpy face and "JONATHAN FRAKES" scribbled on the forehead, "Make it so" is still fun to say. In fact, it's so enjoyable to say that I have integrated the phrase in my life.
WAITER: "Would you like another coke?"
ME: "Make it so."
CASHIER: "With a regular fries and coke, it's $4.13."
SISTER: "Get it supersized so I can have some of your fries."
ME: "You know the magic word."
SISTER: [sigh] "Captain, I recommend that you supersize the meal."
ME: [to cashier] "Make it so, Number 1."
CASHIER: "I used to be more than a number."
SEWING MACHINE REPAIR PERSON: "What do you want me to do?"
ME: "Make it so."
Sammy says there is an interesting story behind the blog name. I'm guessing a Cinderella tie-in. Sammy, what's the story?
WAITER: "Would you like another coke?"
ME: "Make it so."
CASHIER: "With a regular fries and coke, it's $4.13."
SISTER: "Get it supersized so I can have some of your fries."
ME: "You know the magic word."
SISTER: [sigh] "Captain, I recommend that you supersize the meal."
ME: [to cashier] "Make it so, Number 1."
CASHIER: "I used to be more than a number."
SEWING MACHINE REPAIR PERSON: "What do you want me to do?"
ME: "Make it so."
Sammy says there is an interesting story behind the blog name. I'm guessing a Cinderella tie-in. Sammy, what's the story?
August 01, 2003
The Dark Underbelly of Harry Potter
As I mentioned before, over the past month I have been pleading, arguing, and cajoling my sister Michele to give her copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to me, a true Harry Potter fan, instead of my bandwagon sister Tina, although Michele did promise to lend Tina the book first.
After a fortuitous mishap with Michele's move from L.A. that required her to use my services, I was able to secure the treasured tome on the condition that I refrain from mentioning our backdoor deal to Tina, who, although as an H.P. pretenda has no real reason to gripe, would do her equivalent of a Howler (punching me and Michele in the stomach) if she found out. (Actually, it's mostly punching me. She likes punching me better than Michele for some reason. I suppose it is my four daily sit-ups.)
Although I joked about telling Tina about the deal, I wasn't planning on doing it. Okay, I was planning on doing it, but I wasn't planning on doing it today. I wanted to finish the book first before alerting her and risking it being stolen before I was done. Then I got this call from my Mom:
MOM: "It's me."
JASON: "Hi Mom."
MOM: "I'm going to blow the whole lid off your operation."
JASON: "What?"
MOM: "I'm writing an email to Tina telling her all about what you and Michele planned."
JASON: "You can't do that."
MOM: [laughing, clapping hands] "Yes I can! It's all written. I just have to press send."
JASON: "Just give me a few hours. I want to call and read her the first page. It'll be funny."
MOM: [glum] "Okay. I'll give you until morning."
I mention this story in case any of you ever come in contact with any member of my family (sans me). If you do, do not ever, ever, ever tell them a secret or any fact even remotely related. ESPECIALLY anything related to birthday or Christmas presents.
In fact, don't even let on that you know a secret. They (okay, occasionally me too) will use a series of extremely clever and almost unresistable secret-breaking devices, such as "What if I die tonight?" and the classic, "You distract him / lock him in the bathroom while I search his room for our presents."
This is not an exaggeration. The night before Mother's Day, Mom asked if she could have her presents now. Tina said no. Mom said, "What if I die tonight? Won't you feel guilty that I died and I didn't get my presents before I went?" Tina's mouth dropped in shock. Our dad passed away when we are young, and all of us have a lingering fear that our Mom will leave us just as suddenly as Dad did. I laughed. I never knew Mom could hit so hard below the belt.
And the best part is, Mom couldn't care less about the $20 shirt that we got her. She just wants to get it when she's not supposed to. We all do. Michele could be happy getting a ball of tape as a present as long as it is expertly wrapped and she got it a day early by listening to Tina mumble away its secret hiding place the night before in her sleep.
(I wasn't planning on getting into this much detail. I already have a few more paragraphs I'm not going to post yet. It'll be in a future column.)
After a fortuitous mishap with Michele's move from L.A. that required her to use my services, I was able to secure the treasured tome on the condition that I refrain from mentioning our backdoor deal to Tina, who, although as an H.P. pretenda has no real reason to gripe, would do her equivalent of a Howler (punching me and Michele in the stomach) if she found out. (Actually, it's mostly punching me. She likes punching me better than Michele for some reason. I suppose it is my four daily sit-ups.)
Although I joked about telling Tina about the deal, I wasn't planning on doing it. Okay, I was planning on doing it, but I wasn't planning on doing it today. I wanted to finish the book first before alerting her and risking it being stolen before I was done. Then I got this call from my Mom:
MOM: "It's me."
JASON: "Hi Mom."
MOM: "I'm going to blow the whole lid off your operation."
JASON: "What?"
MOM: "I'm writing an email to Tina telling her all about what you and Michele planned."
JASON: "You can't do that."
MOM: [laughing, clapping hands] "Yes I can! It's all written. I just have to press send."
JASON: "Just give me a few hours. I want to call and read her the first page. It'll be funny."
MOM: [glum] "Okay. I'll give you until morning."
I mention this story in case any of you ever come in contact with any member of my family (sans me). If you do, do not ever, ever, ever tell them a secret or any fact even remotely related. ESPECIALLY anything related to birthday or Christmas presents.
In fact, don't even let on that you know a secret. They (okay, occasionally me too) will use a series of extremely clever and almost unresistable secret-breaking devices, such as "What if I die tonight?" and the classic, "You distract him / lock him in the bathroom while I search his room for our presents."
This is not an exaggeration. The night before Mother's Day, Mom asked if she could have her presents now. Tina said no. Mom said, "What if I die tonight? Won't you feel guilty that I died and I didn't get my presents before I went?" Tina's mouth dropped in shock. Our dad passed away when we are young, and all of us have a lingering fear that our Mom will leave us just as suddenly as Dad did. I laughed. I never knew Mom could hit so hard below the belt.
And the best part is, Mom couldn't care less about the $20 shirt that we got her. She just wants to get it when she's not supposed to. We all do. Michele could be happy getting a ball of tape as a present as long as it is expertly wrapped and she got it a day early by listening to Tina mumble away its secret hiding place the night before in her sleep.
(I wasn't planning on getting into this much detail. I already have a few more paragraphs I'm not going to post yet. It'll be in a future column.)
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