It is time to make Spaghetti. The really cool and yummy kind from Kraft Dinners in the green box. But, I'm not eating alone this time: Theres a small black monster sitting in her seat at the table awaiting her cherished pasta.
A few months ago, I wrote about the wonderful time I had sharing my life with two kittens. And the missing part of that life when they were taken away. Well, one day, my friend Nikki called, and we talked about the rain, the park and other things. And, I had to ask about the little black kitten and if she's alright.
It seems she's bothering the family dog, and Nikki has to give her up. When she asked me if I'd like to keep her, I was shocked that i said yes defiantly, without even a thought. That's not usually me, I'm a morass of conflicting contradictions. Sometimes, I can't even choose a pencil if there's more than one.
When she came back home to me, she was tiny, and cute, and quiet, and well behaved. She was timid, but remembered me within the day. She was called Gigi, but never answered to it. I sat her down and we went through names with a soft "J" sound she might like better.
"Gigi? Jenny? Jackie? Jlo?"
She just tilted her furry head, and looked elsewhere for entertainment. That dust ball will do for now.
"eh, Josie...?"
And her head snapped back to me as she ran up and caressed my leg. She had chosen, and it figures she'd want to be named for a "Pussycat". What a nice pretty pretty kitty! So well behaved!
Lets jump to now, shall we?
That tiny fluffball with a wallflower attitude made it to her terrible teens. She's a big solid womanly cat with a loud persistant meow, and gigantic attitude. Loads of personality and ready to headbutt with me on everything. She runs about like she's late for everything and on crack. She only takes the time to look at me, knock something down off a shelf, then gives me a "whattcha gonna down about that?" stare. She rips up toilet paper rolls, and slides across the floor like a runaway train, making me wince when I hear DVDs and glass items crashing to the ground.
I now get instant parental headaches, and I wonder what I did to deserve such a fricken bratty feline. I treat her so well, and sometimes even spoiler her more than I really should. Most times I can't sleep because of her antics, and her nightly attempts to destroy. Why in the hell did I say "yes" all those months ago?!
I get my answer as I type this. A hear the soft padding of paws tromp up to me, and leap up upon my computer desk. She has a plushy jingle ball in her month and looks at me. I hold out my hand and she drops the ball into my palm. I guess it is play and fetch time. We do this for hours. She also brings me her leash, and I know it's time for walkies. This is stuff only dogs do, y'know. And when I come home, she greets me with loud purrs and a hunched leg rubbing. And I know when I fall asleep in my chair again, she'll crawl up and curl into a ball on my chest.
She's my little girl. Pain in the ass and all.
Such is a fathers folly. Maybe I should get her a new sibbling.
Ding! The spaghetti is done! She gets her small plate of simple noodles (her absolute favorite, beyond treats and catnip!), and we talk about her day...
Monday, January 26, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Contractual Obligation Blog
I'm forcing myself to sit my ass down and write this.
Yes, it has been a while since I wrote anything, but I do have a good reason: Life's been too good to me to bitch about. Hell, I probably have 4 or 5 subjects to write about, and then it snows outside, or I feel like a walk, or whatever...and I put off the internet! What?! How can this be?! Look for a pod casing! It looks like Michael, but something just ain't right with dat boy...
So, Let me backtrack a bit.
Let me tell you about my best friend Whitney.
Oh crap, when I say this, it's going to not only sound bad, but I'll actually hear all of you smirk, but we met online. I will now pause for all of you to stop making "internet girlfriend" jokes, and "cyberchat" references. I'll step out for a quick pee.
All done yet? Okay, I'll wait some more and putter about the kitchen. Alright, rein it in, I have a blog to do.
Anyway, we "met" on her net TV show. I loved perusing various video chats and adding my 37 cents. After all, I have brilliant comedic timing, or so I have been told. I also like knocking down the usual rude chatters. And when I made a joke or reference, she actually kept up with me! Not only that, we'd turn out to do a long improvisational sketch, as we'd both be quick enough to keep the jest ball rolling. Naturally, we talked loooong after the show was done, and we became the best of friends. The kind you can talk to about anything, and know they're not trying to find an excuse to be somewhere else.
After six months of this, she got the bright idea to meet for Christmas. I was nervous as crap thinking Chris Hanson was going to jump out at the airport and ask if I could have a seat. What if the internet persona was a ruse? What if she's a homicidal maniac who's going to drop me into a pit and make me put lotion on my skin or I'll get the hose again? What if she's a he, and he's fanatical about his level 80 dark elf in World of Warcraft, and stinks of Cheetos and feet? What if she's Richard Simmons finally coming to get back at me for all the dark (but true) stories I told about him?
Have you ever met someone and it's as if you've known them you're entire life? As if they were a part of your mindset, and you didn't notice the missing part until it was spackled in. From minute one, it was as if we've known each other forever. And It was the best holiday i've ever had...and the quickest. When it was time to go, Whitney started to cry at the airport. I was afraid that people would think I slapped her like I was Sean Connery.
So, my December was quite busy. Oh, and guess who's moving in with me in a few months? Can't help it, she makes brilliant cookies, and the cat likes her. And when she was here, the house became a home.
Merry Christma..er...Happy ne...Inauguration hoedown, I guess...
Yes, it has been a while since I wrote anything, but I do have a good reason: Life's been too good to me to bitch about. Hell, I probably have 4 or 5 subjects to write about, and then it snows outside, or I feel like a walk, or whatever...and I put off the internet! What?! How can this be?! Look for a pod casing! It looks like Michael, but something just ain't right with dat boy...
So, Let me backtrack a bit.
Let me tell you about my best friend Whitney.
Oh crap, when I say this, it's going to not only sound bad, but I'll actually hear all of you smirk, but we met online. I will now pause for all of you to stop making "internet girlfriend" jokes, and "cyberchat" references. I'll step out for a quick pee.
All done yet? Okay, I'll wait some more and putter about the kitchen. Alright, rein it in, I have a blog to do.
Anyway, we "met" on her net TV show. I loved perusing various video chats and adding my 37 cents. After all, I have brilliant comedic timing, or so I have been told. I also like knocking down the usual rude chatters. And when I made a joke or reference, she actually kept up with me! Not only that, we'd turn out to do a long improvisational sketch, as we'd both be quick enough to keep the jest ball rolling. Naturally, we talked loooong after the show was done, and we became the best of friends. The kind you can talk to about anything, and know they're not trying to find an excuse to be somewhere else.
After six months of this, she got the bright idea to meet for Christmas. I was nervous as crap thinking Chris Hanson was going to jump out at the airport and ask if I could have a seat. What if the internet persona was a ruse? What if she's a homicidal maniac who's going to drop me into a pit and make me put lotion on my skin or I'll get the hose again? What if she's a he, and he's fanatical about his level 80 dark elf in World of Warcraft, and stinks of Cheetos and feet? What if she's Richard Simmons finally coming to get back at me for all the dark (but true) stories I told about him?
Have you ever met someone and it's as if you've known them you're entire life? As if they were a part of your mindset, and you didn't notice the missing part until it was spackled in. From minute one, it was as if we've known each other forever. And It was the best holiday i've ever had...and the quickest. When it was time to go, Whitney started to cry at the airport. I was afraid that people would think I slapped her like I was Sean Connery.
So, my December was quite busy. Oh, and guess who's moving in with me in a few months? Can't help it, she makes brilliant cookies, and the cat likes her. And when she was here, the house became a home.
Merry Christma..er...Happy ne...Inauguration hoedown, I guess...
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Snow Day Wanderings
This is how bored we get at my job.
It's a snow day and it's really coming down. No trucks can get loaded (which is sort of what I do), and people are going home early to avoid the icy rains. Well, everyone but the dock crew...guess we're uber important, we just have the humbleness to deny ourselves the fat paychecks of those that sit in offices.
Anyway, when you're on an empty dock, you come up with games to make sure your mind doesn't start to eat off itself out of non-stimulation.
By the way, here's a nice rule of thumb for you all at the workplace: Whenever you have nothing to do, and your boss, or anyone who thinks they're in charge, comes around, NEVER say you're bored. If you do that, they'll make you sweep. Now you're sweeping and bored to tears. So, when they ask you if you're bored, say, "No, I'm intellectually unstimulated"...
I digress...
So, the games we make up are things like "shrinkwrap the sleeping guy", masking tape baseball", and my favorite game, "Movie Mogul"
Whats that you say? Well, where everyone else does stuff like entertainment trivia, our game is that we make up a stupid name of a movie and "hook", and challenge the next guy to come up with a bankable premise as if they're doing a sales pitch to a movie studio bigwig. I always win this game.
My title pitches today were:
"The Kid is the Shits!", a disney travel/buddy pic with any Jonas Brother, and Alec Baldwin, and a singing hen voiced by Miley Cyrus...
A bunch of pre-teens boys have to stay after school and find they all have embarrassing puberty control problems, no matter what social group they orbit in, called, "Boner Club"...
"Oy! That's me Leg!!", an Australian cannibal dramedy from the producers of Crocodile Dundee, with long forgotten has been Yahoo Serious in a career defining role. Meryl Strep as the Dingo Wrangler with a secret...
I've always found if you add singing chickens, you can be guaranteed $30 million more to the budget, and a built in soundtrack CD tie-in. Alec Baldwin will work for a sandwich and if you let him come to your house to wash his pants every now and then. See? Budget is everything!
While we were pitching all this crap, this all reminded me of a TV movie I saw as a child. It had to do with Michael Landon being a olympic medal runner being interviewed about how he became such a fast runner. Michael looks into the camera and starts to get all wavy as he flashes back to his high school days...and being a cronic bedwetter. It seems his cold-hearted mom thought he was just being too lazy and not getting up to "drain the snake", so she hung his bedsheets out the window for the neighborhood to see. So young Michael had to race home, every day after school, before anyone else, to take the sheets down before his best girl and buddies can see that he has the bladder of a frightened bunny.
I couldn't think of the name of this TV gem! Wee-man? Urine Trouble? Running Water? Talking to a man about a horse? I couldn't remember! And this movie was as good as "the Boy in the Plastic Bubble" in awesomeness! We even bet there was a sweet coming of age song at the end about it all, with lyrics like, "...Piss boy...No, no one understands your plight...piss boy...were you much too relaxed at night..."
So we used the company's Internet resources to Google "Michael Landon Bedwetter". And hoo boy, did things turn up! I never knew Susan Sommers and FDR needed diapers too! (by the way, the movie was called, The Loneliest Runner...) How the hell did Mr. Landon get a studio to back an autobiographical movie about his weak bladder? I'd love to see the pitch he gave for a money man to say, "say no more! We NEED to see this on the big screen! Johnson! Free up a soundstage and get this man a production office!"
Intellectually unstimulated. "Boner Club" is starting to look bankable now...
It's a snow day and it's really coming down. No trucks can get loaded (which is sort of what I do), and people are going home early to avoid the icy rains. Well, everyone but the dock crew...guess we're uber important, we just have the humbleness to deny ourselves the fat paychecks of those that sit in offices.
Anyway, when you're on an empty dock, you come up with games to make sure your mind doesn't start to eat off itself out of non-stimulation.
By the way, here's a nice rule of thumb for you all at the workplace: Whenever you have nothing to do, and your boss, or anyone who thinks they're in charge, comes around, NEVER say you're bored. If you do that, they'll make you sweep. Now you're sweeping and bored to tears. So, when they ask you if you're bored, say, "No, I'm intellectually unstimulated"...
I digress...
So, the games we make up are things like "shrinkwrap the sleeping guy", masking tape baseball", and my favorite game, "Movie Mogul"
Whats that you say? Well, where everyone else does stuff like entertainment trivia, our game is that we make up a stupid name of a movie and "hook", and challenge the next guy to come up with a bankable premise as if they're doing a sales pitch to a movie studio bigwig. I always win this game.
My title pitches today were:
"The Kid is the Shits!", a disney travel/buddy pic with any Jonas Brother, and Alec Baldwin, and a singing hen voiced by Miley Cyrus...
A bunch of pre-teens boys have to stay after school and find they all have embarrassing puberty control problems, no matter what social group they orbit in, called, "Boner Club"...
"Oy! That's me Leg!!", an Australian cannibal dramedy from the producers of Crocodile Dundee, with long forgotten has been Yahoo Serious in a career defining role. Meryl Strep as the Dingo Wrangler with a secret...
I've always found if you add singing chickens, you can be guaranteed $30 million more to the budget, and a built in soundtrack CD tie-in. Alec Baldwin will work for a sandwich and if you let him come to your house to wash his pants every now and then. See? Budget is everything!
While we were pitching all this crap, this all reminded me of a TV movie I saw as a child. It had to do with Michael Landon being a olympic medal runner being interviewed about how he became such a fast runner. Michael looks into the camera and starts to get all wavy as he flashes back to his high school days...and being a cronic bedwetter. It seems his cold-hearted mom thought he was just being too lazy and not getting up to "drain the snake", so she hung his bedsheets out the window for the neighborhood to see. So young Michael had to race home, every day after school, before anyone else, to take the sheets down before his best girl and buddies can see that he has the bladder of a frightened bunny.
I couldn't think of the name of this TV gem! Wee-man? Urine Trouble? Running Water? Talking to a man about a horse? I couldn't remember! And this movie was as good as "the Boy in the Plastic Bubble" in awesomeness! We even bet there was a sweet coming of age song at the end about it all, with lyrics like, "...Piss boy...No, no one understands your plight...piss boy...were you much too relaxed at night..."
So we used the company's Internet resources to Google "Michael Landon Bedwetter". And hoo boy, did things turn up! I never knew Susan Sommers and FDR needed diapers too! (by the way, the movie was called, The Loneliest Runner...) How the hell did Mr. Landon get a studio to back an autobiographical movie about his weak bladder? I'd love to see the pitch he gave for a money man to say, "say no more! We NEED to see this on the big screen! Johnson! Free up a soundstage and get this man a production office!"
Intellectually unstimulated. "Boner Club" is starting to look bankable now...
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thanksgiving Parades are Not What They Used to Be.
I remember the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade so different long ago.
When I was a child, we used to sit in from of our TV set in our jammies with the feet attached, earlier than we'd ever be voluntarily. But, floats! And balloons! Bullwinkle and Underdog with that always limp hand being dragged earthbound by tiny tiny people in colorful sweaters. It was a wonderful and the highlight of the season, apart from Christmas.
So today, I decided to make a Turkey breast and stuffing for myself and the kitten...oh yeah, I have a kitten...which I'll tell you about later. So, anyway, I decided to watch the parade whilst I make the Turkey.
And things...have changed. So, I'm writing this live.
For one thing, I must now place the word "parade" in parenthesis. It's been on for over half an hour and I haven't seen a float nor a balloon, unless it's being slash cut from to Al Rokker sitting in the crowds asking if they're enjoying themselves. All I've seen are stupid song and dance numbers from the same spot, Matt lauer looking like an orangutan with that cropped haircut. And, how many marching bands can you really see? Not as if there's anything different from band to band aprt for the uniforms.
The real "parade" starts in 18 minutes they say, but first, "Under da Sea" stage play performance. It's like a Broadway extended commercial. I think the whole thing started to go downhill when they had the Mayor of the parade, or the king of Turkey, I really don't know, and some chick both cut the ribbon to start the festivities. Firstly, the siccors are huge, then when they are going to cut the ribbon...it was mimed...and someone off camera just dropped the ribbon! Was the ribbon going to be saved for next year? That was a harbinger of doom, I think.
Oh! Nothing says Thanksgiving like Harry Connick Jr. in a helicopter describing what he sees from up there. Everyone the hosts speak to go off like a paid commercial brake. Rokker talked to some girl from Heroes, and informed me it's on 8:00pm Mondays, 7 central.
9:48 am - I am told that it wouldn't be a Macy's "parade" without the high kicking legs of the Radio city Rockeetes. I always though it was turkey and floats, so I have been put in my place apparently. They're performing at the entrance to Macy's, like every other act I've endured so far. Just realized that this Macy's "Parade" is a Macy's promotional flier on my TV screen. How many years did that take for that to sink in? Still to come: Clay Aiken, James Taylor, and teen sensation Mylie Cyrus. No mention of a "parade"...
10:00am - the "parade" begins thank good...with a gaggle of clowns? A Balloon!!!! A Macy's balloon celebrating themselves, but a balloon nevertheless! The effigies of Pilgrim man and Pilgrims woman are marched out, and they say, they're unoffical, so they should be escorted off then, right? Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. And a cutaway to the hosts for most of that. A Smurf float! Haven't seen them since skinny ties and Gary Glitter. A smurf balloon, with the fun fact that 30,000 smurfs can fit inside. Ah, there's a Smurf movie is coming out soon, and Matt says's it'll be "Smurfy, and that's a fact!".
Slam on those "parade" brakes! James Taylor is going to sing. I so do love live lip singing. He's done, the float driver pops the clutch, and the "parade" continu...no....commercial. Next up, some generic infectionous boy-pop band will lip sync.
Baton twirling all stars. A Snoopy float with a live Beagle on board, who happens to be showing off his massive swingin' junk. Obviously cold weather doesn't effect dogs. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A Disney Commercial float of Bolt...and Mylie Cyrus miming a performance, so the "parade" stops again. Nothing is more pathetic than those throngs of kids on floats force to wave for miles. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.
Hula dancing all stars. An odd float of a rhinoceros rock and guys climbing all over it's face, like parasites on a real rhino in the wild! And just like the wild, Shauntel is pretend singing in front of it all. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. We are to say "ola' to Dora the Explorah, on her hugeass balloon. A very disturbing Harajuko Girls float...Japanese little girls with oversize heads and squinty eyes. No joke. Energizer Bunny float...and, he's not moving!!! He might be dead, because that's not like him at all!
The Harley Beats Jumprope team all stars. Sesame Street float, and... crap...with piano virtuoso "LongLong" (?) on board. Can I have a float without a frikin musician, please? OMG! Bob from Sesame Street is still alive?! He must be like 328 years old! Abby Kadaby balloon. Never heard of her. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Hello Kitty Balloon. Looks like the Abby balloon with a re-dress. My Princess Academy float...and hey! A song with some more cookie cutter teen sensations on board. What the hell? Why even bother holding microphones?
10:30am - Big Apple Circus juggling all stars. Mr. Peanut in his Nutmoble. Didn't I see all that with the beagle float? A float of NYC, with the cast of dirty hippies singing "Age of Aquarius". Unfortunatly, you can't dress like that today without being branded gay. Horses with really fat cops on top. A bent over, looking like he's taking a painful stool drop, Ronald McDonald balloon.
American Dance Theater all stars. A heart balloon. Not the rock band. A bridge float...with "Push-Play" singing straight off a mp3 player. The heart balloon almost killed Meridith and Matt, proving there is a God, and he just gave them a stern warning. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. M&M float...with a Wicked performance. Is every float going to be infested with these singers like deer ticks? A Pincachu balloon, with a quick shot of hundreds of children falling into seizures in the streets. Okay, that's just creative dreaming.
Some kinda American Idol runner up singing on a float of a starship made by a cartoon dog. Seems like justice, i guess. And this is the first time we didn't come back from a commercial brake to some kind of "all stars". Buzz Lightyear balloon. I'm stoked! Foster's home for Imaginary Friends float!!! And i become unstoked just as quickly when they start to sing..and restoked when Rick Astley jumps out and sings "Never gonna give you up"! This is the best "parade" ever! Rick-rolling Macy's!
11:00am - Latin spirited Dance team all stars. A steamboat float with giant bobble heads. Awaiting a songmaker on board...yep...16 year old phenom Charese. NBC's stink is all over this "parade", as the fakey mikes these people sing into has their logo.
Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Spongebob balloon and he has a maniac smile like he has a few bodies in his basement and planning to make a human skin suit. A Jimmy Dean float with Trace Atkins singing some crap, and no evidence of sausages, unless I'm missing a beagle somewhere on there. A pirate balloon, and the telecasters are going straight to hell due to their "arrgh matey" imitations to go on way too long.
Indian dance all stars in polyester. The "dean of green" Kermit the Frog balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. An uncle Sam balloon, chasing...two balls? What are they trying to say? US postal service float, so we all have a boy-band scattin away upon it. Talk about chasing bawls. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A nice replica of the statue of Liberty float...and no singer?! This is an outrage!
Harold the Fireman balloon. No idea. Business men in suits aping "Stripes". Did they think I wouldn't know? Big Apple float (NYC float numbah two), with the prerequisite singer, Ashanti. For a brief second, I sware I was looking for the "FF" button on my remote. Beethoven the dog balloon, I guess replacing the old Clifford the big red Dog balloon this year. Gibson guitar float with a former Hootie, from the blowfish tribe.
11:30am - Special Needs color guard all stars. A clown balloon, which is one of the signs of End of Days. Some kind of bear float with a singer. Hang on! Wasn't she Summer from School of Rock? Damn, her voice is heavily modulated. Shrek balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.
Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Horton Hears a Who balloon. Care Bears float? Are they even known nowadays? They're probably selling blood for booze and hash in Amsterdam right now. More singers stapled onto floats. The bears are ice skating. I'm in hell.
11:45am - home stretch. Kermit again? He's tiny now, and he's singing on a log. That means reality collapsed on itself, doesn't it? Can't get over the fact there's a man scrunched up inside the log with his hand up the frogs bum. Lots of misques, then Andy Williams is dug up, hosed off, and wheeled into the courtyard to lipsing a Christmas song. Oh. A marching ...you get the picture.
Santa arrives for the release! He's surrounded by people dressed like Thing #1 and #2 from the Cat in the Hat, and 3 "Helium Elves", which I guess means they "huff". I am so done and ready to eat...I suffered so you wont have to.
Happy Thanksgiving!
When I was a child, we used to sit in from of our TV set in our jammies with the feet attached, earlier than we'd ever be voluntarily. But, floats! And balloons! Bullwinkle and Underdog with that always limp hand being dragged earthbound by tiny tiny people in colorful sweaters. It was a wonderful and the highlight of the season, apart from Christmas.
So today, I decided to make a Turkey breast and stuffing for myself and the kitten...oh yeah, I have a kitten...which I'll tell you about later. So, anyway, I decided to watch the parade whilst I make the Turkey.
And things...have changed. So, I'm writing this live.
For one thing, I must now place the word "parade" in parenthesis. It's been on for over half an hour and I haven't seen a float nor a balloon, unless it's being slash cut from to Al Rokker sitting in the crowds asking if they're enjoying themselves. All I've seen are stupid song and dance numbers from the same spot, Matt lauer looking like an orangutan with that cropped haircut. And, how many marching bands can you really see? Not as if there's anything different from band to band aprt for the uniforms.
The real "parade" starts in 18 minutes they say, but first, "Under da Sea" stage play performance. It's like a Broadway extended commercial. I think the whole thing started to go downhill when they had the Mayor of the parade, or the king of Turkey, I really don't know, and some chick both cut the ribbon to start the festivities. Firstly, the siccors are huge, then when they are going to cut the ribbon...it was mimed...and someone off camera just dropped the ribbon! Was the ribbon going to be saved for next year? That was a harbinger of doom, I think.
Oh! Nothing says Thanksgiving like Harry Connick Jr. in a helicopter describing what he sees from up there. Everyone the hosts speak to go off like a paid commercial brake. Rokker talked to some girl from Heroes, and informed me it's on 8:00pm Mondays, 7 central.
9:48 am - I am told that it wouldn't be a Macy's "parade" without the high kicking legs of the Radio city Rockeetes. I always though it was turkey and floats, so I have been put in my place apparently. They're performing at the entrance to Macy's, like every other act I've endured so far. Just realized that this Macy's "Parade" is a Macy's promotional flier on my TV screen. How many years did that take for that to sink in? Still to come: Clay Aiken, James Taylor, and teen sensation Mylie Cyrus. No mention of a "parade"...
10:00am - the "parade" begins thank good...with a gaggle of clowns? A Balloon!!!! A Macy's balloon celebrating themselves, but a balloon nevertheless! The effigies of Pilgrim man and Pilgrims woman are marched out, and they say, they're unoffical, so they should be escorted off then, right? Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. And a cutaway to the hosts for most of that. A Smurf float! Haven't seen them since skinny ties and Gary Glitter. A smurf balloon, with the fun fact that 30,000 smurfs can fit inside. Ah, there's a Smurf movie is coming out soon, and Matt says's it'll be "Smurfy, and that's a fact!".
Slam on those "parade" brakes! James Taylor is going to sing. I so do love live lip singing. He's done, the float driver pops the clutch, and the "parade" continu...no....commercial. Next up, some generic infectionous boy-pop band will lip sync.
Baton twirling all stars. A Snoopy float with a live Beagle on board, who happens to be showing off his massive swingin' junk. Obviously cold weather doesn't effect dogs. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A Disney Commercial float of Bolt...and Mylie Cyrus miming a performance, so the "parade" stops again. Nothing is more pathetic than those throngs of kids on floats force to wave for miles. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.
Hula dancing all stars. An odd float of a rhinoceros rock and guys climbing all over it's face, like parasites on a real rhino in the wild! And just like the wild, Shauntel is pretend singing in front of it all. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. We are to say "ola' to Dora the Explorah, on her hugeass balloon. A very disturbing Harajuko Girls float...Japanese little girls with oversize heads and squinty eyes. No joke. Energizer Bunny float...and, he's not moving!!! He might be dead, because that's not like him at all!
The Harley Beats Jumprope team all stars. Sesame Street float, and... crap...with piano virtuoso "LongLong" (?) on board. Can I have a float without a frikin musician, please? OMG! Bob from Sesame Street is still alive?! He must be like 328 years old! Abby Kadaby balloon. Never heard of her. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Hello Kitty Balloon. Looks like the Abby balloon with a re-dress. My Princess Academy float...and hey! A song with some more cookie cutter teen sensations on board. What the hell? Why even bother holding microphones?
10:30am - Big Apple Circus juggling all stars. Mr. Peanut in his Nutmoble. Didn't I see all that with the beagle float? A float of NYC, with the cast of dirty hippies singing "Age of Aquarius". Unfortunatly, you can't dress like that today without being branded gay. Horses with really fat cops on top. A bent over, looking like he's taking a painful stool drop, Ronald McDonald balloon.
American Dance Theater all stars. A heart balloon. Not the rock band. A bridge float...with "Push-Play" singing straight off a mp3 player. The heart balloon almost killed Meridith and Matt, proving there is a God, and he just gave them a stern warning. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. M&M float...with a Wicked performance. Is every float going to be infested with these singers like deer ticks? A Pincachu balloon, with a quick shot of hundreds of children falling into seizures in the streets. Okay, that's just creative dreaming.
Some kinda American Idol runner up singing on a float of a starship made by a cartoon dog. Seems like justice, i guess. And this is the first time we didn't come back from a commercial brake to some kind of "all stars". Buzz Lightyear balloon. I'm stoked! Foster's home for Imaginary Friends float!!! And i become unstoked just as quickly when they start to sing..and restoked when Rick Astley jumps out and sings "Never gonna give you up"! This is the best "parade" ever! Rick-rolling Macy's!
11:00am - Latin spirited Dance team all stars. A steamboat float with giant bobble heads. Awaiting a songmaker on board...yep...16 year old phenom Charese. NBC's stink is all over this "parade", as the fakey mikes these people sing into has their logo.
Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Spongebob balloon and he has a maniac smile like he has a few bodies in his basement and planning to make a human skin suit. A Jimmy Dean float with Trace Atkins singing some crap, and no evidence of sausages, unless I'm missing a beagle somewhere on there. A pirate balloon, and the telecasters are going straight to hell due to their "arrgh matey" imitations to go on way too long.
Indian dance all stars in polyester. The "dean of green" Kermit the Frog balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. An uncle Sam balloon, chasing...two balls? What are they trying to say? US postal service float, so we all have a boy-band scattin away upon it. Talk about chasing bawls. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. A nice replica of the statue of Liberty float...and no singer?! This is an outrage!
Harold the Fireman balloon. No idea. Business men in suits aping "Stripes". Did they think I wouldn't know? Big Apple float (NYC float numbah two), with the prerequisite singer, Ashanti. For a brief second, I sware I was looking for the "FF" button on my remote. Beethoven the dog balloon, I guess replacing the old Clifford the big red Dog balloon this year. Gibson guitar float with a former Hootie, from the blowfish tribe.
11:30am - Special Needs color guard all stars. A clown balloon, which is one of the signs of End of Days. Some kind of bear float with a singer. Hang on! Wasn't she Summer from School of Rock? Damn, her voice is heavily modulated. Shrek balloon. Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising.
Oh. A marching band. How unique and surprising. Horton Hears a Who balloon. Care Bears float? Are they even known nowadays? They're probably selling blood for booze and hash in Amsterdam right now. More singers stapled onto floats. The bears are ice skating. I'm in hell.
11:45am - home stretch. Kermit again? He's tiny now, and he's singing on a log. That means reality collapsed on itself, doesn't it? Can't get over the fact there's a man scrunched up inside the log with his hand up the frogs bum. Lots of misques, then Andy Williams is dug up, hosed off, and wheeled into the courtyard to lipsing a Christmas song. Oh. A marching ...you get the picture.
Santa arrives for the release! He's surrounded by people dressed like Thing #1 and #2 from the Cat in the Hat, and 3 "Helium Elves", which I guess means they "huff". I am so done and ready to eat...I suffered so you wont have to.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Bible of the Bro (part deux)
A bit back, I did promise to expound my wisdom about the male condition to all my female readers. I thought being a "scab" would automatically ostracize me from the ranks of bro-dom. And, sad to say, fear took a grip upon me like I was a lone rebel upon the Deathstar...
How typically male of me! I didn't realize that since my site does have breasts or sports statistics, NO male would ever visit it! This page is like a forgotten realm that anyone with hangy down parts wil never trespass. There's just not enough testosterone to sustain a dudes "dude-atude". He's either have to embrace the fact that he has feelings, or wither and die in the most dramatic way a sick male can. (you ladies with "all man", beer and firetrucks, boyfriends know all about what happens when he gets a tiny sniffle. Hell, I do that too!)
So, once again i'm going to let out the secret handbook of being a "dude":
And in the tradition of a standard bible, i'm bringing today, the Psalms part...
How typically male of me! I didn't realize that since my site does have breasts or sports statistics, NO male would ever visit it! This page is like a forgotten realm that anyone with hangy down parts wil never trespass. There's just not enough testosterone to sustain a dudes "dude-atude". He's either have to embrace the fact that he has feelings, or wither and die in the most dramatic way a sick male can. (you ladies with "all man", beer and firetrucks, boyfriends know all about what happens when he gets a tiny sniffle. Hell, I do that too!)
So, once again i'm going to let out the secret handbook of being a "dude":
And in the tradition of a standard bible, i'm bringing today, the Psalms part...
- Never watch the movie "The Notebook"
- No phone conversations in a public restroom.
- Never dress to match your girlfriend or wife.
- Two men should never walk down the street under the same umbrella.
- No man should ever ride bitch on an other man's motorcycle. (oh, Dr. Jones! How could you?!)
- Under no circumstances is any man allowed to send an emoticon ;-) =) :-p etc. to another man.
- You can't narc out a buddy for showing up to work hungover. You can however harass him as much as possible.
- A man must never wear a Speedo in public. The exceptions are water polo players, secret agents, and dudes who are tough enough to kick everyone's ass.
- If you need to change in a public bathroom use the stall
- No man shall ever feed or be fed by another man, unless the recipient of said feeding is physically or mentally handicapped, or otherwise restricted in any way that prevents feeding oneself.
- There is no reason for a man to watch men's figure skating or men's gymnastics. Ever.
- Unless you're in prison, never fight naked
- No man should ever speak badly about bacon, handguns, beer, Batman, or sex.
- No man shall ever work another man's BBQ unless specifically asked to.
- No man shall have any kind of fuzzy decoration on, or in, his car.
- "If" your girlfriend or wife finds your porn, cop to it. In fact be proud. Real men are not ashamed of watching porn. If your mom finds it, blame someone else.
- No man shall ever be required to buy another man a birthday gift. In fact, even remembering you're buddies birthday is strictly optional.
- If you bring beer to a party and need to leave, the beer stays.
- No man shall complement another mans entire wardrobe, only on individual items of clothing.
- Unless in the entertainment industry, no man shall wear makeup.
- No man shall ever use another mans chap stick. And especially never comment on how it tastes.
- Never call another man while you are taking a dump... A picture message with your cell phone is however acceptable.
Something else I should dispel about men: Although we say no man shall ever touch another mans crotch, by simply using a balled up fist and a quick action, it's not only acceptable, but hilariously fun. But, really, don't we all know why we wanted to "hit" a guy in the jewels in the first place? A little honesty, gentlemen, please.
And finally, no man shall never nickname himself. If you do need to nickname a buddy, the following names are restricted:
Farrah Feelings, Cuddles, Francesca Frenchbraid, Prissytoes, Pippy Premenstrual, Ponyboy, Lee Pressons, Puppyeyes, Marlene Maxipad, Nipples-o-plenty, Sherry Showercap, Frita Fallopian, Sugarqueen, Margaret Goodetiquette, Pinchy Cheeks, Holly Haircurlers, Bunny Corsetzipper, Lashonda Tamponda, Fruitytootie, Fairy Sugartushy, Shannon Sparkles-Like-a-Star, Rainbowfeather, Sissy Glittermuff, McPrancertons, Flowerpanties, Jill Massengill, Stubby, Bellatrix Cervix: Dominatrix for Hire, Swishy McSashay, and Girly Von Curtsy!
No need to hide this now, so go to work and play with these rules with all your guy friends!
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