Tuesday, February 28, 2006

What she means by batten

A few posts down you can read all about how my mother is really good at telling how severe the weather is about to be.

If she says to batten down the hatches, this is what you can expect:

Robocop Grassed - This one's for you!

I present the Starbucks Starfish as nature intended her to be.



Please note: this is an actual photo taken at the local Starbucks. I didn't alter the picture. Someone ELSE drew in the boobies. However, I am really not a fan of Starbucks. I think their coffee tastes bad. But you do what you like. And enjoy the boobies.

Correction: It was ninety-TWO million.

Ok, so the bank heist over in merrie olde England netted the robbers $92,000,000.

Even MORE buck for the bang.

As they say: a million here, a million there, pretty soon you'll be talking real money.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Sweet 16

Sixteen more days until the season premiere of The Sopranos.




WAAAAAAAAAAH HOOOOOOOOOO
Pasta fazooooooooooooooool!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thursday, February 23, 2006

APB on a low riding truck

So over in England, a gang of thieves stole about $43 million bucks.

I got to wondering, how can you steal that much cash?

I mean, that is a lot of bills.

A quick Google search brought me to this man - How Much Is Inside a Million Dollars
Check it out, it's enlightening.

Anyhoo, he determined that a million bucks weighs about 20 pounds.

Simple math says: 20 x 43 = 860 pounds.

Though I am sure there must be some kind of accounting for the exchange rate....

But still, that is a crap lot of stolen money to move, hide, and spend.

See ya in Rio!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Death Cab for a Cutie

The end result of the Big Dig moving all the big diggers out of downtown Boston is that now taxi cabs can drive faster than the speed of light.

Thanks to my Lebanese driver, I learned the Lebanese word for cedar tree ("erz"? I think). I also found out that it IS possible to travel in time.

Pretty much I got to my destination before I even knew where I was going.

This is one of those times when you feel like this:

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Helpful Hint No. 4583721

Here is the deal with the blue/red/flashing light at the top of the old John Hancock building.

Steady blue, clear view.
Flashing blue, clouds due.
Steady red, rain ahead.
Flashing red, snow instead.

Flashing red during baseball season means the Red Sox game has been called off.

You're welcome.

Who crapped in the punch bowl?

Back at the beginning of February, Punxsutawney Phil of Pennsylvania (a groundhog), bumbled out of his little abode on Gobbler's Hill and saw his wee shadow.

Saw his shadow = 6 more weeks of winter.

And this is how the remaining length of winter has been determined since forever.

So I have been tracking the remaining weeks on a chaulkboard at work.

And you would not believe the amount of people who have complained that this is misleading information.

Hello! It's the prediction of a GROUNDHOG, not scientifriggin fact!!!

This confirms my opinion that lots of people are retarded.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Ok, why jelly?

Or even, oh! K-Y Jelly.

There are two ads currently drilling a hole in my temporal lobe.

The first is a tv ad for a new show from Lorne Michaels and I think starring Lorne Michaels - of SNL fame. I think it is called "Sons & Daughters".

At any rate the trailer for the show has a scene in which the husband is describing to his wife that having sex with her is like throwing a wrench into a closet.

I don't know why, but I laugh every time. Every time.

The second ad is a radio ad for K-Y Jelly Warming Liquid.
Which is clearly not for the wrench and closet crowd.

And definitely NOT for the morning drive people!

For real, the last place I ever want to hear about a hot oil treatment for the cooter is in my car at 8am.

But aside from that this ad grosses me OUT. Everyone knows that K-Y jelly is that grody little bent up tube at the back of the medicine cabinets of people who are in psychoanalysis.

K-Y jelly belongs in the weird realm of crap your parents bought and which you always said you would never buy when you grew up.

And in case you were wondering, also included in this group are:

- Tucks Medicated Pads
- Metamucil
- Gold Bond Powder
- Anything made by Fleet in a red or green box


But yeah, back to my point about the ad: it's gross, and it will never be hip.
It's a personal lubricant for crying out loud and the parent company is Johnson & Johnson!

Thursday, February 16, 2006

What's the effing point!?

Ok, so it would seem that there is a candy maker out there making pot (pot, marijuana, mary jane, reefer, bud, ganja, weed,whatever....) flavored candy.

What?

Why on earth would you want to eat candy that only tastes like the real thing?

I have a hemp body cream that makes me smell like a gigantic joint.
I don't eat it.

If I want to taste pot, then clearly I want to be high.
And not a sugar high either.

The state of Georgia wants to outlaw the sale of such candy. That is dumb.
Pot candy probably tastes like crap and therefore would most likely be a deterrent to little wanna-be hop heads.

But in case you, dearest reader, are curious about this peculiar candy, check out Chronic Candy.

It's candy porn!

Friday, February 10, 2006

To Batten or Not to Batten

It has been a very dull season for local weather forecasters.

Boston has had a freakishly warm winter this season.

Even the Farmer's Almanac swore blind that this would be a record setting snowy winter. Maybe we've gotten 18 flakes so far.

So whenever there is even the most remote possibility that there could be even the smallest snow event, the weather people go friggin insane in the membrane.

It is supposed to snow Saturday night. According to the National Weather Service it is in fact supposed to be a blizzard.

Rather than tune in to some deliriously hysterical weather report, I called my mom.

Her ability to predict a major snow event is curiously accurate. I ask her if she is "battening down the hatches", although I forget now how a nautical expression came to be used as her weather indicator.

If she hasn't gone food shopping or isn't planning a big comfort food meal, then she is not battening down the hatches. Which means that no matter what the weather stations says, it is most likely that only a few flakes might fall.

However, if she is food shopping and making stew and buying batteries and bottled water and filling prescriptions, she is most definitely battening down those hatches. And to you that means STOP READING RIGHT NOW, GO BUY FOOD FOR YOUR SURVIVAL, GET A SHOVEL, GET A FLASHLIGHT, GET A BIBLE BECAUSE UH OH HERE COMES THE END.

So yeah, I called her.

Her verdict: Batten down the hatches, but not until late Saturday/ all day Sunday.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Nothing sez I love you like a forehead full of botulinum

When I was a kid, Valentines Day meant giving (and hopefully getting) really silly Valentines Day cards in flimsy envelopes sealed with a puffy heart sticker.

Today on the radio I heard an ad for a place that is offering Botox specials for couples to give each other.

Quite frankly that is like buying your significant big white underpants in a three pack.

Giving it will prevent any sexual encounter for at least three weeks, guaranteed.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Superbowl Sunday

I love Superbowl Sunday.

I love it.








Yeah, and GO STEELERS.

Anyone want seconds on the dignity pie? Tom?

Ahhhh Massachusetts, always referred with a negative:

"Love that dirty water!"
"Welcome to Taxachusetts!"
"Hey, move it Masshole!"

And now the State's Attorney General Tom Reilly has decided to run for Governor. And he would like a running mate.

He is a Democrat.

First he tried to get businessman Chris Gabrielli on board the S.S. Tomtanic. It was reported as news at 11 o'clock, but then by morning, Mr. Gabrielli was long gone. Turns out, he didn't ever want a piece of that action.

Then he found Marie St. Fleur, a state rep with some six years of political experience and tapped her to be his choice for lieutenant governor.

As they say in sixth grade: Smooth move Ex-Lax!

It would seem that Ms. St. Fleur was not as hard pressed to pay her income taxes as she ought to have been ($12,000). And she couldn't have been bothered to pay back her student loans either ($40,000).

Or for that matter, her motor vehicle excise tax. And when you don't pay that one, they won't let you renew your drivers license. So it would seem that she couldn't have even driven herself to her own office.

Probably she should have disclosed this privately to someone. Anyone. Her "campaign manager" for example. Especially seeing as how at the start Tom's released his own tax records. And as Attorney General he is especially retentive about making the people follow tax law to.the.letter!

But no, she smartly stepped aboard the Tomtanic, and within a day, that ship went DOWN.

If you ask me, I'd say that sucking noise is the sound of the S.S. Tomtanic going under.

Or maybe it's Howard Dean screaling. (screaming? squealing? what was that noise?)

Another fine day for the Democrats in Massatwoshits.

Take a left, then another left go down a bit and take another left, and then the next left and you're there!

What the hell?

Basically that is how the City of Boston would like their lovely citizens to evacuate. That is if you can spot the little blue signs.

Sure you see them now all over the place because, well, they are posted all over the place, but trust me, you are NOT going to see those suckers in a panic.

And even if you do spot Waldo, it's usually pointing in four directions so good luck to you.

Left, left, left, left.

Right back to where you started.