Audio CD to make your Home Office sound like a thriving businessplace, with background noise, chatter, phones ringing off the hook, etc.
Archive for March, 2008
I can’t decide which of the two following assaults is my favorite Assault of the Week. The first one, which I call “Trailer Park Prosthetic Leg Assault” involves a drunken redneck visiting her sister’s mobile home, at which point an argument breaks out and the drunk yanks off the sister’s fake leg & beats her with it.
Assault #2, which I’m calling “The Empire Strikes Back,” takes place in England, and involves two Jedi (seriously, Jedi is an official state-recognized religion in the UK) being attacked by a drunk wearing a Darth Vader mask & a black garbage bag. Bonus points to Assault #1 for the Prosthetic Leg detail, but equal points to the British yob who went to the trouble of purchasing/assembling a Darth Vader costume.
In a close match, I’m giving the nod to Assault #2, but only because I can feel better about it. In the Trailer Park attack, the victim was handicapped, and probably trying to get her sister to stop drinking. In the UK, two dudes who list Jedi as their official religion got what I can only imagine the police report listed as a “well-deserved thrashing.” Interesting handicapped tie-in, while in the US, a prosthetic leg was the weapon of choice, in the UK, Darth Vader resorted to using a crutch to dispense Sith justice, as apparently he had no light saber handy.
Dora the Explorer’s best friend is Boots the Monkey. Her nemesis is Swiper, the Sneaky Fox. By the time you finish watching this video I will be living in a box by the L.A. River.
So over here, it turns out that if you donate $5 or more (up to the $2300 max) you get entered into a drawing to have a dinner with Barack Obama & three other winners, just the five of you talking about whatever you feel like discussing. Needless to say, I entered, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to win (because I have a system when it comes to games of chance!). Which means I better start thinking about what I’m going to discuss with Barack over dinner.
I figure the other three chumps are going to want to have their say, all “blah blah blah health care blah special interests blah” but I’m going to seize control of the conversation with my hard hitting issues & find out where the candidate really stands.
First topic: Is it socially unacceptable to use the term Mulatto? A female friend used that term in reference to Jason Taylor from the Miami Dolphins, while describing how attractive he was. Up until now I hadn’t thought the term was offensive (and yet, Octaroon seems very clearly wrong…). Then the friend followed it up with “I’m not usually attracted to black people,” and I was forced to cast everything she had previously said through my PC filter. Was this closet racist attempting to reintroduce a taboo phrase into my vocabulary? Wikipedia was less than helpful, so I’m pretty sure the only place to go for an answer to this question is by asking the most famous Mulatto in America.
Topic the Second: Five years ago, on a walk around my neighborhood, my pug puppy Oscar barked at a tiny infant whose parents were pushing him in the stroller. I jokingly told the parents “He HATES babies!” as a light ice-breaker kind of joke, to get around the awkward situation of my dog having startled their toddler. To this day, the Missus contends that this was not an appropriate response to the situation, and made us look like we raised our pug to hate tiny adorable babies. I disagree, naturally, and will rely on the judgment of Mr Obama to settle the issue once and for all.
Finally (I’m not sure how long this dinner is going to run, but I feel like more than three topics of discussion will be pushing it), I want to see where Barack stands on my favorite conundrum, namely if you’d were going to have a one night stand with a person missing an arm or leg or what have you, wouldn’t you rather have sex with a person missing ALL their arms & legs? I’m very interested in what Obama has to say about this topic, as I see it becoming a wedge issue in the swing states like Florida & Ohio.
I’ll keep you posted as to the inevitable results of the contest.
When I bought my home, the phone company had installed DSL in one room only, and wanted to charge a bunch to run the line to the room next door where my computer was. Being stubborn & cheap, I figured I’d punch a hole between the two rooms and run the line myself. Long story short, I didn’t realize that the wall between them used to be an external wall & I ended up getting an 18″ forearm sized drill bit & a bunch more damage was done than just the dainty, phone jack sized hole I’d originally envisioned.
The point is, like a lot of idiots, I tend to use the biggest tool for the job rather than the best. But never once in my hole creating process did it occur to me to get a gun. And I guess that’s where I’m old fashioned. Ronald Long of Sedalia, Mo. was faced with the need to punch a hole in his living room wall to get the coax line from his new satellite dish inside. So, standing in the living room, facing the outdoors, he fired two shots through the wall, fatally injuring his 34 year old wife Patsy, who was standing outside.
I know there’s nothing inherently funny in personal tragedy, and I don’t post this item for comic effect, but rather as a constant reminder for why I don’t have a gun. I feel sorry for this man, and I feel shame for his stupidity, but more than anything, I feel empathy. The number of times I’ve gotten frustrated trying to do crap around the house & ended up causing a ton of damage in my short temper makes me realize that at some point, using a gun to solve one of the various problems would have occurred to me.
A lot of times in life, the difference between success & failure, or happiness & tragedy, etc, doesn’t come down to the final bad decision (do I use a gun for this? do I sleep with this woman with no condom? do I run this red light?) but rather the decision several steps earlier that eliminates the need for the later choice.
INTRIGUING UPDATE: Fiendish commenter Chuck suggests that Long was potentially deliberately trying to kill his wife, in which case this is the least likely alibi I’ve ever heard. Also, note to Missus Chuck: see how your husband thinks.
One of the better “single serving sites” that is sadly no longer around was called “Do You Want Two CD’s” (I forget the exact URL) and when you went there, it asked only if you wanted two CDs. Yes was the only clickable option, which would load a picture of some dude’s nutsack and the screaming headline “DO YOU WANT TO SEE DEEZ NUTS!!!!”
I mention this only because a heavy set gigantically boobed acquaintance has for the past year or two been wearing super low cut tops, exposing at least 40% of the total surface area of her breasts, and when a friend and I were discussing it, we decided the appropriate response was to walk around with our flies unzipped, and roughly 40% of our scrotums pulled through the barn doors. We termed this ballsack cleavage to be called Bleavage.
I talk a good game, but there’s no way I’m courageous enough to pull this off. But I can honestly say I’d pay about $100 for good quality video of some guy striking up a conversation with the boobie flaunter while standing there exposing his Bleavage until someone said something about it.*
* Important Jonson Trivia Fact: I can’t STAND awkward situations in TV or Movies. But I LOVE them in real life.
Thanks to the lab rat quantities of Nutrasweet I’ve consumed over the years, I can’t remember simple facts, like my daughter’s birthday, or if I have a daughter. My terrible memory is one of the reasons I started writing this blog. I go back and re-read the older entries and I have no memory of writing them at all; it’s literally as though a stranger with my exact sense of humor wrote a bunch of stories that only I would find funny.
However, for whatever reason, it turns out that if the event occurred prior to 1990, I can’t seem to forget it, no matter how much I want to. I was talking with a friend last night, when we realized that we could both vividly conjure up the poster for the movie April Fool’s Day, an utter piece of crap slasher from the 1980s. For some reason, I will always readily know my childhood friend Michael’s phone number, even though I’ve not dialed it since I lived in England in 8th grade, yet the missus will ask me if I remembered to run some errand on the way home and my only response is “who are you, you strange woman? We should totally do it before my wife gets here.”
Whenever I’m confronted with this kind of mental breakdown, not only do I curse my lack of memory, but somewhat involuntarily my brain throws in a useless fact as an almost deliberate taunt. The other day the missus asked if I remembered to deliver a Thank You note she had written and while I had to admit that I hadn’t, I was pleased to remember that the tagline for 1988’s Maniac Cop was “You have the right to remain silent – FOREVER!”