Saving the Best for Last

The thing with the Sopranos is that everyone bitches about all the crappy episodes that precede a great episode.

This night's episode opened with Moonlight Mile playing, the only Rolling Stones song I can listen to without going berserk.

Then later, when AJ is in a bar being all working class n' sh*t, Precious by the Pretenders is playing in the background. Fabulous stuff.

If they play anything by the Waitresses, my life will really be complete.

Woo hoo!

About Damn Time

Brangelina brat? Who cares!

The $8,000,000 Aniston-Vaughn Wedding? Pshaw!

Tom Cruise dancing like Gumby? Been there, done that, what-ever!

I'm talking about how they FINALLY killed Denny-the-Doe-Eyed-Dumbass off on Grey's Anatomy.

Jeezus pete - what that man went through while Dizzy Izzy worked her "mojo" on him... I am surprised that didn't kill him ages ago.

Fo' real!

The Dizz flatlined the poor bastard at least twice, poked him full of holes, shocked him, cut off his LVentthingymajiggy, and STILL he lived. So that he could have the transplant and later die of a blood clot. Doh!

And then finally, FINALLY McDreamy and McPouty FINALLY banged the gong! He's hot, she's not, it's sad - like empty calories, a bummer after the fact. Watching them go at it is like watching Ken hump a Q-tip.

And George's new haircut and girlfriend, please - looked like an improvement at first, but no, both grew to be just as annoying as George. Annoying and unpleasant to boot.

When the celebs fail you, there is always tv.

Mom!

THANKS MOM!!!!!!


Thanks for reminding me to go to bed.
I am alot less tired because of it.

Thanks buying me books.
Look Ma! I made a blog! Phat!

Thanks for cracking a little wind when you laugh.
It reminds me that you're human too.

Happy Mother's Day.
You are the best mom EVER.

More for the Junkie

Uhhhhuggghhh....... just........one................more.............hit

Pop Sugar, Sugah...

I Don't Like You in that Way. Really. I don't.

It's Egotastic!

D-Listed biatch.

Ok kids, wipe the drool off and thank me in the morning.

So long O'Toolie, we hardly knew ye!

Sooo another commish bites the dust.

I think that it is too bad Kathleen O'Toole is leaving her job as police commissioner.

Of course, this being Boston, I do believe that there is shelf life for competent city officials. The retarded ones stay on FOREVER, while the half decent ones leave in disgust.

For example, Hizzoner the Mayah.

Mumbles has been on the job for far too long. While he has been able to maintain the long standing Boston tradition of cronyism and patronage he has managed to replace city official nudge-nudge-wink-wink bribery with a peculiar righteous indignation when pocketing the envelope.

Pathetic.

The problem in Boston is that all the really shi**y criminals get locked up for 5 to 10 years and then they are released back into their old haunts.

The reality is that most career criminals don't change. A person dealing in heroin or crack can make a $1000 bucks a day. If that's what you know, it would be difficult indeed to go into a job where a) you are required to be there for X hours a week, b) get taxed a third of your pay, and c) having a record is a mark against you.

In the drug trade you make your own hours (heroin/meth during the day, crack/coke at night), nothing gets kicked back to Uncle Sam, and having a record is practically a job requirement.

Oh wait, I am getting distracted here.

Back to the police commissioner.

Well, for a while things had been going pretty good crime wise. The housing market in Boston since about 1998 has been in a boom.

(I use that year arbitrarily. It's not based on science ok)

Anyway, people have been spending millions to live in the city, and in parts of the city that had once been areas of ill repute. People seem to be comfortable in the city. The bad guys were either in jail or living in Brockton.

However since last year things have gotten all gunfight at the OK Corral.

Seriously.

And I know that O'Toole has only been on this job since 2004, but she seemed like a competent person to guide the Boston Police Department, but who knows. She must have pissed of the Mayah but good. Which isn't hard to do if you have an IQ greater than a peanut.

Given the current crime climate, it will be interesting to see who is next up to bat.

I am sure the Mayah will want to see some kiss-a** in that position who will appease his various groups of constituents who are clamoring to get one of their own in there.

City Hall is completely out of touch with what resources the police department actually needs. All the Mayah knows of the neediest neighborhoods is what he sees from the back of his tinted -window, chauffer-driver Escalanche on his way home to Readville.

Or from carefully constructed ribbon cutting ceremonies.

Good luck O'Toole.

And remember, in Ireland, they drive on the OTHER side of the road.

Internet Crack

You know you'll thank me later for this......

The Superficial - celebrity hash with snarky commentary.

Gawker - old faithful

TMZ - best source for celebs behaving badly videos

Gossipaholic - the best cure for addiction is hair of the dog

Kiss My Bitter Ass - who knew celebs ate anything...

Ok, now I REALLY can't stand Tom Cruise.

As some of you may remember Tom was the elf boy Jack from the movie Legend,
















So.................................. pretty.

Anyway, now he has been caught on camera dancing.

Check it out for yourself: TOM CRUISE IS A DANCING MANIAC

Hilarious. Painfully hilarious.

Going Once, Going Twice, Going for $95 Million!

It must be a really extraordinary feeling to stroll into an auction, sit down wherever there's a seat available, flick throught the catalog, wait until the auctioneer gets to Picasso's painting of his mistress and then start bidding like crazy.

This is the man who paid over $100,000,000 smackaroos on two paintings.
















And as I am a numbers kind of a gal, here's the breakdown:

This fellow spent $100,000,000 in one month.
(He has until the end of the month to make good on payment, if he hasn't already)

This comes to an average of $3,333,333.33 per day.

So ok, how could $3 million plus be spent in one day.

1. Pay for just over 1.5 million malaria treatments in Africa
2. Buy every Bostonian a small cheese pizza from Nicole's Pizza.
3. Buy Johnny K and Brother Asshat 2,469,136 cans of Heineken.

Ok, now I am bored.

What would you do with $3 million to spend a day?

No hearts were harmed

Kristin Mallery sees hearts everywhere.



Check out her website to see all the places she finds them, it's pretty cool stuff.

HeartsHappen.com

Free for a reason!

There is something extremely fascinating about combing through the free ads on Craigslist.

For one thing the people who take the time to post are so friggin polite:

"FREE fabulous dishwasher. It will be in the trash after 5pm. Thank you!

For another thing people give away the most mudane sh*t:

"FREE!!! Four gallons of my used cooking oil to fuel your biodiesel car. Thank you! Happy Earth Day"


And then there are those who post when high or drunk or both:


"Free rat with coffee table. Good home only. NO SNAKES!"


PS: Let me know when you see the "free money to a good home" ad.
Thanks! And have a great day!

Sad but true.

So two of Tony's henchmen are out and about collecting packets of cash in exchange for their protective services.

And they find themselves in a brand new coffee shop - a generic Starbucks type - and try hilariously to shake the manager down for a little protection money.

Which proves to be very difficult seeing as how the company "accounts for every f*cking bean" as the manager so earnestly explains.

It's like the manager/peon would LOVE to pay a couple of mobsters some green but cannot because "Corporate" won't let him.

Damn the Man!

Anyway the hooligans leave, scratching their heads at this new world order, and one says something along the lines of "so much for the little man".

So sad, but so true.

The economy of the corporation is killing organized crime as we know it.

Red Bull Gives You Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiings!

Ok people, inquiring minds gotta know:

WHERE THE HELL IS THE PARTY????

First a $100,000 worth of Kraft sauces goes missing down in Dyersburg, Tennessee.

Then $100,000 worth of Red Bull goes missing.

That is going to be some nightmare of a BB-Q down in ol' Hillbilly Holler.

Now, if you figure $100,000 of sauce works out to $2 per bottle.
(Suspiciously, Peapod is offering Kraft sauces on sale for a $1......)

And $2 a bottle translates to about $.75 per bottle wholesale.
You can then deduce that $100,000 divided by .75 = 133,333 bottles.

Jeezuz that is SOME barbeque.

But it gets better.

There are 24 Red Bull cans per case.
2,880 cases were stolen.

Which works out to about 69,120 cans of liquid hee haw.

A party that involves over 100 thousand bottles of sauce and about 70 thousand cans of Red Bull sounds like my kind of party.

I am just waiting for half a million bags of potato chips to go missing and I am driving down to Tennessee as fast the Blue Bomber will take me.

No, I don't want to smell your armpit. Thanks.

I am taking a class this weekend.

It is being held in a suburban hotel conference room, the kind with the movable walls, booby chandeliers, and chlorine-scented hallways.

Our room has two columns of narrow tables, 5 tables in a column, four people at a table.

So it's a bit snug.

Sitting to the left of me today, I enjoyed the company of a weirdo named "Glenn".

"Glenn" is the Procurement Officer in Charge of Federal Contract Purchasing - or something, for a small town. He takes his job very seriously and it is highly likely that every single pencil on his desk is sharpened to a very very fine sharp point.

I thought he would be the kind of person who would be cognizant of his personal space boundaries.

But he was not.

To refill his water glass, he stood up and reached for the pitcher by streching his arm over my head.

Which resulted in the extraordinarily awkward movement of having my head getting bumped into his armpit.

Awkward!

Birdgirl of the Ghetto

First it began with the small shallow holes.

Walking out to the car I noticed what I thought to be small footprints scattered throughout the backyard.

Then one day I happened to fill up a flipped over plastic trash can lid with water because I thought the little sparrows and grackles looks a bit parched.

Later on I noticed that the little birdies were alternately drinking the water, then hopping into the water for a bath. Because that's what you do when it's sunny and warm in New England, you drink and swim.

Anyway, after they'd drunk and washed to their hearts content they hopped about in the yard until they made a little hole and then they did this odd kind of shuffle and flappy thing.

Turns out birds need both a water bath AND a dust bath.

Who knew?! Well now I do and you do.

My last contribution to the rabble in the rubble is a large lump of seed filled suet. Which tastes nasty to a human, but which is apparently like crack to the birds.

I have to make a mad dash now to the car with keys in hand to avoid getting dive bombed by suet-addicted sparrows. They are pissed that I haven't yet replaced the lump of suet.

This sucks! I am SO not responsible enough to feed and water a flock of about 47 assorted city birds! I can barely keep houseplants alive.

- sigh

Everyone I know is up the pole.

A woman gets on the bus with her baby.

The bus driver shoots her a quick look and says: “Holy shit lady, that's the ugliest baby that I've ever seen. Ugh!”

Steaming mad, the woman goes to the rear of the bus and sits down.

Fuming, she turns to the man sitting next to her and says: “That goddam driver just insulted me!”

The man looks at her kindly and says: “You go right up there honey and tell him off – go ahead, I'll hold your monkey for you.”

You Owe Me a Dollah!

This is Edward Burns





















He is married to Christy Turlington
(you know, the girl from the Calvin Klein ad with the kids and stuff)















And EDWARD is the guy from that ad,
NOT Luke or Owen Wilson.




















Gimme me my dollar loosah!

DPW (Dumb People Working)

As most are probably aware, the administration of the City of Boston is a source of continued aggravation for me.

And probably for a few others too.

For example, for some reason the City seems to think that patching potholes at three in the afternoon is a perfectly fine task to attend to.

Well, sure, if you want to create a two mile curiosity back up in both directions.

Or changing traffic light lightbulbs at busy intersections at four in the afternoon. Because that would NEVER cause a clusterfu*k of cars.

And how come there is never anyone to direct traffic around these endeavors?

Hasn't the City yet realized that Boston drivers are mesmerized by heavy equipment? That seeing hard hats and cherry pickers confuse us and cause our braking foot to go heavy?

I can't wait to see what public works project they trot out today at tea time!

Taaaake Me Out to the Balllllllllgame.

Tomorrow (Tuesday) is Opening Day at Fenway Pahk.

Hmm, I thought it was last week.

And then I thought it was today, seeing as how there was a couple of helicopters buzzing around the place.

I just don't get the ritual of baseball.

And everytime I've been to a game at Fenway, I have consistently been surprised when the game actually starts. I find the lack of any kind of kick off disorienting.

Not only the beginning, but the end too. All of a sudden all the players walk off the field and hey the game is over.

And who knew, because the little green rectangular box that's supposed to tell you the score shows a line of numbers.

I think the R box is Runs, which I think is HOMEruns and that would be the score.

So what's with all the other numbers?

But I will still cheer on the Sox.

Because that's what you do if the only reason you go to Fenway is to drink beer in the sun in the afternoon.

And maybe knock back a few sausages with peppers & onion.

Ocean State Odd Lot

Have you ever been to Ocean State Job Lot?

Seriously people, the place should really be called Ocean State Odd Lot.

They sell the oddest stuff.

I was there today and they were running a click n' lock flooring special.

And also a special on Israeli couscous.

It's just not normal.

Ok, ok, one last cat thing and then I am done.

I SWEAH.

But really, have you seen the kitten-cyclops?

Ew!

Before there was Brokeback...

There was Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man.

Let me preface this with the fact this movie was released in 1991 and transition from the eighties to the nineties was not an easy one.

It was a weird weird shift from the greed, coke, and big BIG hair of the 80's to the earthy crunchy, grunge fuel slacker fest of the early nineties. SOOO awkward!

Sort of like giving birth to a 48-lb orangutan covered in peanut butter - can't stop it from happening but that doesn't mean it has to make sense.

So yeah, back to my main point. I really think that Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man was the Brokeback of the early nineties. I watched it again today. Yes, again. I am a glutton for crap tv.

Anyway, there was definite tension between Mr. Johnson and Mr. Rourke.

Especially at the end when Don is about to hop on the horse at the rodeo and Mickey leans in. Just when you think they are heading for a big wet one, they hug....

Back then, that's how Hollywood treated gay love - with heartfelt hugs.

And another thing.

How come the bad guy ALWAYS announces his intentions, just in case the good guy is a little retarded.

Example: in Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man, there is a scene where two men are holding up a gas station and Harley (played by the semi-retarded Mickey Rourke) advances on the knife-wielding bad guy who says (with a straight face)

"I am going to cut you long wide and deep"

Well duh.

What else were you going to do with that knife? Peel him a grape?

Please.

What's with all the pussy's??

Seriously, what the f*ck is with all the cats in the news lately?!?

A few minutes ago the most emailed story on Boston.com was about a cat in Connecticut that was cited for terrorizing neighbors.

Then there was the newsworthy cat that got stuck in a wall.

And now CNN is reporting on acrobatic cats.

Evidently the Moscow Cat Theatre is in town and let me tell you, the video is freakin' creepy.

However, if you live in Chicago and can't make it to NYC to catch the show, check out the Acro Cats.

Equally creepola.

Personally I am not a cat person. I find them skulky. And I think they look weird and uncomfortable in human clothes and doing stupid human tricks.

However, show me a dressed up monkey and I will laugh and laugh.

Stupid cats.

Put some jam on the fetus.

Today I was relating a story of no importance to my sister.

And then suddenly it took a odd turn.

What follows is the gist of our conversation.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Me: So this woman comes into the bakery with a little tiny baby, four weeks old.

Her: Yeah?

Me: Yeah, so anyway, this baby was wicked tiny
(we're from Boston, we say wicked)

Her: Yeah?

Me: Kinda it looked like a fetus really. It was that small.

Her: Spread some jam on the fetus.

Me: What?

Her: Yeah, spread some jam on the fetus, make it look newborn.

Me: Well, it was crying to beat the band.


Her: Probably because it was sticky. From the jam.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

This is the kind of conversations we have when she is sleepy and I am sugar deprived.

Ice Cream Sundae Lovin'

For some reason I have decided to give up sugar and bread and crap for two weeks.
And for someone who works in a bakery... really it's like giving up breathing.

Well anyway, now that I have made it through two days without even the tiniest bite, I can't stop now.

But it is kind of ridiculous because all I can think about are ice cream sundaes.



Two weeks til Sundae!!

Shamrock Bum Bum

Hmmmm - people are WEIRD.

Firstly, I have learned not to gender identify gingerbreadmen.
Uh, I mean gingerbreadpeople.

Secondly, I will freely admit that Phil the Groundhog is not the most scientifically appropriate weather predictor ever known to man.

But you know, I cannot really be held responsible for turning your baby's poop a startling shade of shamrock green.

It's a fact.

A woman actually came to me at the bakery to complain that the shamrock cupcakes that we frosted with a vibrant green turned her child's poo-poo green. Not only that, but since said child crapped in a diaper, the green poo also stained said child's bum green.

She then invited me to check the diaper to see for myself. Fu*king GROSS!

Note to parents everywhere: YOU and only YOU are the only person ever interested in examining your baby's poo.

As it turned out, she really just wanted to see the food coloring bottle to make sure that Junior wasn't going to permanently stained for life.

But what was she doing feeding a toddler a massive huge luridly green cupcake? That kid was probably up for two days straight.

No wonder she was cranky.

I try to make this sh*t up, but really I don't have to when it walks in off the street.

If you can read this...

THANK A TEACHER

What about that disease you picked up in Diarrheastan?

I love the Sopranos.

But I hope to sh*t that this whole season isn't split between the hospital bed and Tony's Ativan induced La-La-Land.

Someone needs to get whacked.

With luck it's going to be Vito "the Wiener" Spatafore.

It's Pockalicious!

I went to the Super 88 today.

Aside from the fact that the seafood section makes me gag a little, I love shopping at the Super 88.

A box of jasmine green tea costs .69 cents.

I have no idea what 94% of the stuff they sell is.

I do know to stay away from mushy looking things in jars marked "pickled". I have learned to love sriracha hot sauce. I have become expert at breathing only through my mouth.

But the BEST thing about Super 88 is that you can buy Pocky there.

I love Pocky.

Chocolate-covered sticks that might as well be made out of crack considering how incredible my jones for them can get!

untimely death of a genre

It used to be that movies with the opening title:

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

gave me a little thrill.

(think At Close Range)


Now the only channel you can watch anything BASED ON A TRUE STORY (re-runs at that!) is on Lifetime: Television for Women.

Grrrrrrrrrr.

Note to Hollywood: Bring back the old hopped-up Sean Penn, take the stick out of your ass, and bring us more true stories!

And PPS: Stop making movies that club us like baby seals on ice with obvious messages of supposed moral upperhanded-ness and earnest-ness.

Blech!

Make me laugh at the misfortunes of others or give me back m'dang money!

Mange moi, je suis un cupcake.

I love working at a bakery. It smells nice, tastes nice, and it's fun to decorate cakes for a living.

People are happy in a bakery - so long as you stay off the topic of weather forecasting groundhogs and don't gender identify gingerbread people.

The downside is that I ALWAYS smell like a cupcake.

And small children eat bits of frosting off my pant leg.

Or they point to me at the supermarket and say "cookie! cookie" creating a very awkward moment for parents who

a) haven't yet twigged that the nanny feeds Junior illicit sugary cookies

and who

b) don't know that I am the person who works at the bakery, not some random creep walking the streets giving Precious a cookie!

Plus, if I eat one more crackaroon - I think I will die.

Ew!

I get that Donald Trump has a craplot of money.

I get that he is one of those geezers that cannot deal with hairloss and who prefers to sport a totally grody, totally tacky, overly hairsprayed, gauzy looking comb-over.

I get that he enjoys saying "You're FIE-erd" and doing the four finger poke salute.

What I don't get is why on earth he would date his own daughter.

Firstly, Ivanka looks like she was weaned on a pickle.

And secondly, is he kidding?

Ivanka would never go for someone with such a crappy comb over.

Blah de blahh blah feckin' BLAAAHHHH

2006 Academy Awards

What the F*CK!?!?!?!

Boring. Boring. Boring. Boring. Self-righteous. Boring. Bogus. Self-absorbed. Boring. Boring. Boring.Boring. Boring. Boring.Boring. Boring. Boring.

What you missed:

The Music
Pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music)

The Host
Jon Stewart: Hi! Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment. Unfunny comment.

The Presenters
Blah. Blah. Blah. Movies rule.Blah. Blah. Blah. Directors rock. Blah. Blah. Blah. Revered industry.Blah. Blah. Blah. I hope this gig gets me some scripts. Blah. Blah. Blah. Unfunny comment.

The Actors
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music) - NO WAIITT I'M NOT DONE!!! me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me.

The Awards
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Supporting Actress
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Supporting Actor
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Film
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Director
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Actress
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Random Award
Best Actor
Pumm pum pun pumm pmmm punn punn (lots of trumpetty orchestra music)

And then the 11 o'clock news.


PS: And another thing. George Clooney - you can stop being such a blowhard.
For crying out loud you were on The Facts of Life!!!!!!!
GET OVER YOURSELF!!!!!

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.

Sweet 16

Sixteen more days until the season premiere of The Sopranos.




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

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!

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:

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

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.

Big Ball's in Cowtown

I went to see George Strait in concert last night.

I can't say that I could listen to Country 99.5 24/7, but I could listen to George for a good chunk of time.

Country music has a pretty hokey rep in New England, and that's too bad.

Besides, guys look HOT in cowboy hats.

100,000 bottles of wine on the wall, 100,000 bottle of wiiiiiine...

Ok - the Wine Expo rolls into Boston this weekend.

You know what that means....

About 50,000 slam-drunk suburbanites stumbling through the streets of Bahstin!

I know because I used to work at a restaurant right by the Expo. One time a very polite drunk came up to me, requested a table and when I turned back to seat him, he had literally fallen straight down into his shoes - like a melted wicked witch, leaving behind his jacket in a puddle on the floor.

It's a fact, people go to the Wine show, get sh*t faced, then weave their way towards food in the vain, vain, vain hope of sobering up for the drive home via a massive dose of fried food.

This rarely has the desired result.

The reality is:

large amounts of alcohol

+

large amounts of grease

=

an urgent and raging need to poop.


And anyway, no one ever admits to getting sh*ttoed at a Wine Expo.
It's like admitting you enjoy a little glass of Manischewitz.

Man Humps Water

It's true.

There I am doing my slow laps at the pool, getting high on chlorine, bobbing in the wake of my fellow lane mates, when suddenly there is a great thudding splash.

Well, more like a sploosh.

Followed by a thud. Which certainly sounds weird in a pool.

I find myself getting bobbed into the wall, and the little pool wavelets now have little whitecaps.

WTF is happening?

SPLOOSH

thud

SPLOOSH

thud

I look over and there is a very big man in the next lane who appears to be dry-humping the water.

Or I guess you'd call it wet-humping.

He is grasping a blue float board and he is using both legs together - lifting them up and then smashing them down. Up and down, and up and down. And he is doing his laps this way.

A) It sounds painful

and

B) It looks like sex.

Sometimes it's hammer time, other times it's joke time...

A young punk gets on the bus.

He's got spiked, multicolored hair that's green, purple, and orange. His clothes are a tattered mix of leather and rags. His legs are bare and his shoes are in held together with duct tape. His entire face and body are riddled with pierced jewelry and big, bright feathers hang from his earrings.

He sits down in the only vacant seat, directly across from an old geezer who just glares at him for the next ten miles. Finally, the punk gets self-conscious and barks at the old man:

"What are you looking at you old fart... didn't you ever do anything wild when you were young?"

Without missing a beat, the old man replies: "Yeah. Back when I was young and in the Navy, I got really drunk one night in Singapore, and had sex with a parrot. I thought maybe you were my son."

Thanks for Chevroletasaurus!

I read the obits like a little old lady.

However, I would very much have liked to have met this man:



He was Jim Gary and you can read all about him here. In fact, it is required reading ok.

I especially liked the fact that he would move his works around the country on a flatbed and "(c)urious drivers often followed the dinosaurs down the road for miles."

He created art and beauty out of waste and junk, out of things that are out of sight out of mind for most people.

Who wouldn't love someone who "turned leaf springs into rib cages and generator fans into huge lash-ringed eyes. For the spinal plates of a stegosaurus, he used part of a garbage truck's compactor. For its tail spikes, he used Chevrolet shock absorbers. He also built smaller pieces, among them humpbacked turtles that began life as Volkswagen Beetles."



Thanks Jim!

Taxpayer Funded Craft Day

I got my jury duty notice today. No one likes to be on jury duty.

Personally, I don't care one way or the other. Gives me time to catch up on my crocheting.

Actually, heaven help the poor criminal whose jury I am on. Guilty people don't make it to trial, doesn't anyone watch Law & Order?

Duhhhh.

Overused Words in Real Estate Advertising

It has come to my attention that there are certain words that are being overused in real estate advertising. I believe that the overuse of these words are the real cause of the current market slouch.

1. STUNNING
If I read one more ad that describes a particular abode as 'stunning', I am going send the realtor responsible a flaming bag of poo.

To my mind, if an apartment is 'stunning', it needs to be pretty spectacular. And apartments are, well, stacked compartments of space. They don't really have the appropriate sweep and drama required of all things stunning.

It reminds me of when Tom Cruise called Katie Holmes "magnificent".

2. SPARKLING
Just because Merry Maids came in and swabbed the place down with a few squirts of cleanser does not render a place 'sparkling'.

3. LOFT

According to dictionary.com, a loft is:

1. 1. A large, usually unpartitioned floor over a factory, warehouse, or other commercial or industrial space.
   2. Such a floor converted into an apartment or artist's studio.
2. An open space under a roof; an attic or garret.
3. A gallery or balcony, as in a church.
4. A hayloft.

So NO any apartment with another apartment above it is NOT a loft, no matter how white you paint it.

3. MOTIVATED
It would appear that every seller is motivated. Well duh. A seller is hardly going to be unmotivated. In reality a motivated seller is the seller who will take the first offer at or above the asking price. So the person asking $525,000 for the 500sf studio on Beacon Hill is not going to take $425,000 cash no matter how motivated they are.

And I speak from experience when I say that they are definitely not motivated about an offer of $150,000.

4. GLEAMING
As in hard wood floors. I don't care what other word is used (glossy, shiny, slick, radiant), but the phrase "gleaming hardwood floors" has to go.



Oh yeah, and if it's molding, it's dentil, NOT dental.

Desperate Housewives

Ok two things about Desperate Housewives.

1) Teri Hatcher is annoying AND funny looking. There is too much space between the bottom of her nose and the top of her lip.

2) The women of Desperate Housewives don't like each other much. And all of them don't like Nicolette Sheridan.

The Golden Globes

Ok so watching the Golden Globes is like reading UsPeopleNationalEnquirerStar all at once.

Drew Barrymore wore a startling bright green thing that made her look like a jolly green giantess with great big nipples. Seriously, they had to zoom in on her face in order to avoid a great big FCC fine.

Geena Davis showed up in an outfit that made her look like a Bloody Mary.

Pam Anderson really is a dumb dyed blond. And why was she wearing so much clothes?

Mary Louise Parker liked Chris Rock alot more AFTER she won. Uptight or what!

Unlike the Oscars, the award show is like a great big famous people dinner. Awards are presented while celebs eat and drink which is why a lot of waiters occasionally end up on the TV. Everyone can get their five minutes of fame on this night.

I can wait until a little later when everyone starts slurring their words....

What did she just say???

I work in retail.

Most of the time, customers are great, funny and interesting, and I really enjoy it. And sometimes I cannot STAND working in retail. How people really are is revealed in how they interact with the people who have to wait on them.

For example, a woman came in to return an item that she evidently didn't like. In fact in her words she wouldn't feed it to a Nazi.

Huh?

Surely she just didn't say that...

But yes, she did.

So yes, there is a plain cheese danish in this world that is not even fit to feed a Nazi and apparently we sell it.

She could also have just said she didn't like it. We would have gladly given her something else. But instead she had to invoke the Third Reich.

Some people....

Angie is a better match for me than me!

Currently I am down with love.

But I am ever hopeful that Cupid's own WMD will one day pierce the strip of jerky I call a heart.

In the meantime, I use the Love-o-Meter to gauge the relationship potential of prospective mates.

It is a tool I highly recommend as it is clearly based on complicated science.

My own results:

Me + Angelina Jolie = 95.5%
Me + My Little Pony = 95.5%
Me + Myself = 95%
Me + the Golden Gate Bridge = 91.5%
Me + George W. Bush = 85.5% ( uh oh)
Me + William Clinton = 85%
Me + Tom Cruise = 77.5%
Me + Osama Bin Laden = 75%
Me + Superman = 68.5 (what? less than Osama? That's SO wrong....)
Me + Van Halen = 68
Me + Brad Pitt = 38%

Holy Cold Out Batman

Yesterday at this time in Boston it was 47 degrees (8 celsius).

Today at this time it is friggin' 16 degrees (-9 celsius).

This kind of cold makes people a little stupid.

Scraping Football Scurf off my tongue.

Ok, so football season is over for me.

Let me first say that I still feel love for the Pats.

But what a wreck of a game last night.

Then again, after the season they'd had, it was pretty great that they got as far as they did.

Why I am going to be late for karaoke!

Oh yeah by the way,

GO PATS

Uppi Pai

After a brief, but beloved, stint as a manicurist, I am now back at the Bakery.

One thing that I am trying to get everyone back in the habit of is to label everything that goes into the fridge.

And almost more importantly, date it, because after all who cares WHAT it was after six weeks and a pale green-blue bloom has blossomed.

This past week I came across something labelled: uppi pai

Let me first explain that my fellow kitchen magician speaks no English except for: "heybabyhowyoodoin"

But his Brazilian Portuguese is first rate!

Anyway... as it turns out, "uppi pai" is how a person from Brazil who doesn't speak English spells "whoopie pie"

Now, I am bringing in chocolate-filled whoopie pies and call them "yippee pies".

I can admit I am sort of excited to see how this turns out phonetically from a Brazilian.

Whoa! What am I thinking! Whoops!

I know that it is SO inappropriate, but whenever a police car goes whizzing by me with all the sirens and crap flashing, in my head I hear my friend Kimmie doing her version of NWA's "F*ck tha Police"

"Fu*k tha police and he said it with authority"*

Like I said, inappropriate.

please note that the actual lyrics are: "f*ck tha police and Ren said it with authority"
man, the Eighties ROCKED!

This is why we don't need ANOTHER "task force"

Ok, so as I mentioned yesterday, a woman's dog was zapped to death on a city sidewalk.

Don't believe me, read the story here for yourself: Dag Zapped

Seemingly this has happened 3 times since 2003, though that is only the reported ones. Evidently many others just got zizzed.

As a result, NStar (the local electric company) "formed a taskforce" last year and found 60 live covers in 120,000 units.

Hmmmmmm.

When the higher-ups in Boston form task forces, I get nervous.

It's just that to me it seems that whenever the city doesn't really want to resolve a problem, they form a task force to talk/analyze/research the issue to death.

So far my favorite task force has to have been the "Task Force on the Boston Central Artery/Tunnel Project"

The most incredible report came from this task force , and it "included strong recommendations to strengthen federal oversight of the Boston project and require fiscal responsibility from the CA/T project leadership"

Riiiiiiiiight.

This is the same report that said that the project was going have cost overruns of about 1.7 to 1.9 billion dollars. Which would bring the total cost to somewhere over $13 billion dollars.

$13 BILLION DOLLARS FOR A CRAPPY COUPLE OF TUNNELS AND THE SAME (IF NOT WORSE) TRAFFIC NIGHTMARE???

It boggles the mind that $13 billion dollars was spent on about 300 acres of a state that is about 5,284,480 acres in size. Which is a titch over $3 million an acre. Those planned greenspaces better look terrific!

So, yeah, the city can create a "task force" to investigate the electrocution deaths of dogs in the city, but first all dog owners should invest in doggie booties ASAP.









yeah, I'm bad as I wanna be yo!

Forget Evacuation, how about electrocution prevention

Today a woman was walking her doggie, when he stepped on a metal cover and was electrocuted to death.

WTF!!!!!

And this isn't the first time it has happened.

One more reason to NOT walk around barefoot in Beantown.

Just one more danger to remember when you are fleeing during an evacution, so don't forget to grab a sturdy pair of shoes on the way out!

Awwwwwww craaaaaaap

Ok ok, I know that I cannot be the only person who was secretly hoping that the Steelers would lose today. (sorry Amy!!!)

But really, a game against the Colts would have been SO much better for my blood pressure than a game at Mile High against the Broncos.

(and Diana, keep your Broncs pride to yourself ok, or no more chai for YOU!)

Although I will say that the Steelers played a GREAT game today in Cincy.
Especially seeing as how Bengal fans are

a) f*cking LOUD

and

b) litterbugs.

Couch Potatoing Movies of Note

From the looks of the crap I write in this here blog, one might think that I've never watched a movie filmed after 1989.

Which is only partially true.

But I mean really now, they don't make them like they used to.

Take the movie Real Genius for example.
A damn funny movie with dialogue you hardly ever get anymore.

[Chris Knight is trying to hit on Susan, a beautiful woman he finds in Professor Hathaway's house]
Chris: So, if there's anything I can do for you, or, more to the point, to you, you just let me know.

Susan: Can you hammer a six-inch spike through a board with your penis?

Chris:Not right now.

Susan: A girl's gotta have her standards.

Now that I am old enough, I am SO going to use that line!

And another thing!

Yesterday I watched as a man verbally assaulted a woman in the street, while a whole bunch of us watched.

Okay, okay, let me explain.

The man in question pulled his shiny Jeep Cherohonkee into a bus stop while he ran into the supermarket.

Along came an meter maid who tagged the car.
(note that he was ticketed only, not flagged for a tow)

As she is tucking the ticket in and walking away the guy comes out and sees the ticket.

And boy does he fly off the handle.

He starts shouting at her, a fountain of foul language erupts from this fellow, and all pedestrian traffic slows to a stop. We can't help watch this human wreck.

And then he caps the whole tirade off by screaming to her that he sucked her son's pee-pee.

Huh?

Ok, dude, that makes YOU look bad.


And besides, when else in your life can you be so defensive about blatantly disregarding the rules.

Way to go 55 and 28 and 50 and 12 and....

Ok - I am thinking about starting up an entirely different blog for all things Patriots.

But until then, WHOO HOOO!

For the fourth time in five years the Patriots are the AFC Champs.

And before anyone says that football is not a real game, ask Chris Simms how it feels to be crushed six times, mostly by a 270lb (~19st.) linebacker named Willie McGinest.


Or how it feels to have had a stroke back in February 2005, and still be in the game like Tedy Bruschi.


Yeah, there is nothing like your team winning.

That's my boy(s)

I am a Pats fan.

Ever since '86 when Buckner let the ball roll, I've been a Pats fan.

Everyone is telling me that the Pats are having a bad season, but that is crap.

I don't care if they go to the Superbowl or not. They beat the Bills 37-5 this afternoon.
At Buffalo. In the snow.

GO PATS!



And no, I am not just a Mrs. Brady.
Steve Grogan was another great Patriots QB, but um he was like before my time.

Like I said: GO PATS!
Make Momma proud.

We are definitely going to be hanging by our own petard!

Last night I had the unfortunate experience of having to drive my dearest friend to the airport right after a storm dumped a heap of crap on the city of Boston which ended right smack at rush friggin' hour.

It took approximately one hour and fifteen minutes to get TO the airport. From my house to the airport is about 5.5 miles, it should take oh, about ten minutes to get there.

The trip back (another hour) was worse, but only because I discovered at a critical moment that my severe lack of gas would probably prevent my safe return. Grr, airport ga$, grrrrrrr.

ANYWAY.

So as I was stuck on a thick sheet of ice, known as 93 South, I thought - thank gad this isn't an emergency evacuation!

Then I wondered, what the hell IS the evacuation plan for Boston anyway? I know that my family has a plan and that is to drive about a 140 miles north of Boston (which according to my bad math would take about three days of straight driving - figure 140 miles at about 2 miles per hour equals about 70 hours which if you drive round the clock ends up being about 3 days, I think).

According to the Boston Globe, my source for all things Menino, the Mayah has a plan to evacuate the city, one that "would get residents to safety in a catastrophe".

To that I say: BULLSH*T MISTAH MAYAH!!!!!!

First off, I didn't plan on driving to the airport. But when I tried to get a cab, there was not one single cab available in the entire city of Boston.

Then there was gridlock like you wouldn't believe. But that is because it is jokingly easy to get your license in the state of Massachusetts, and because there is ZERO traffic enforcement so people think it is totally normal to drive like a bunch of bozos.

Back to the Plan. The Plan calls for the following:

First off a "system of automated phone calls, bus evacuations and emergency shelters... designed to evacuate the city within hours." HA! Just try calling 1-800-23-Logan in an emergency. I think that the Massport budget calls for having approximately one employee manning the calls when the airport shuts down. And I think that they share that one employee with Aer Lingus.

Part of this plan is to figure out how to direct the bozos who will be driving out of the city in their Escalanches like demented Big Lot bargain shoppers.

"City workers have already begun installing 400 signs along evacuation routes to direct motorists to safety and brochures were being mailed to Boston's 280,000 households." Who the hell reads mail from the city? More Mumbles Menino crap telling homeowners what to do and when to do it? Yeah, riiiiiight, whateverrrrr....

And another thing, it's all well and good to tell us Bostonians what to do, but unless we evacuate East in a boat, we're gonna have to go through a heap of towns to the North, South, and West. I am pretty sure that Cambridge has their own wacky plan, and it probably involved closing all bridges over the Charles to keep the dirty hordes from overrunning Hahvad Yahd. I suspect that the plan for Snooty Newty involved barricading the exits off the Pike. Maybe the evacuation plan should be a state issued thing...

"Seventy-four schools and community centers would serve as emergency shelters for those who stay behind, and would double as staging centers for the busing of residents with no other means of transportation." Hopefully all the elderly and cripples have vehicles to get to the shelters, because good luck getting a cab!

"Police officers, tow trucks and gasoline tankers would be positioned along evacuation routes to keep traffic moving and avoid the gridlock that crippled the Houston area as Hurricane Rita bore down in September." Um yeah, this is retarded. If you've been to Houston you know that the highway system there is about 14 lanes in both directions. Here it averages at about 3 lanes. And our roadway engineers are so clever that they are now making it so that all the highway on ramps enter directly into a lane of traffic rather than into a merge lane. If you've ever tried to get on at Mass Ave since they re-did it, you know the kind of clusterfu*k I'm talking about.

"Residents would be notified of an evacuation by telephone using a new automated system designed to call up to 60,000 households per hour." And how are they going to know that the person they are calling speaks English, or who would understand to stay on the line for translation. Furthermore, I usually hang up on calls that start with dead air because only bill collectors and telemarketers start their calls with dead air.

"Menino had released a different evacuation plan earlier this year, but it was criticized as inadequate by his opponent in the November election, City Councilor Maura Hennigan. City police, fire, health and transportation officials were involved in the drafting of the new plan, which Menino said is subject to revision." Ahhhhh yes, it's true, like so much else Menino does, it was criticized. But thankfully this new plan involved people OTHER than the mayah.

"This is not a panacea," Menino said. "It's a plan we believe makes a lot of sense. The experts have looked at it and analyzed it and are satisfied this plan works."I've stated before that Boston is run by a bunch of retahds, so I am confident that the plan makes no sense whatsoever, and that it will not work. I am also positive that the Mayah would never use the word "panacea", because A) he could never pronounce it, and B) he doesn't know what it means.

Like I said: BULLSH*T MISTAH MAYAH!

Way to Score Darkie!

You may all remember my dear friend Lucky Hurley, Smubble Champ Extraordinaire.

It seems that she's up the pole thanks to Darkie O'Meara!

Way to go Darkie!

Baby Calamity Shazzaam is now about as big as a pickle:

Item No. 654 on the list of Things That Are Annoying

Listen up Hollywood-fancy-pants-marketing people.

Do not advertise movies in November that aren't coming out until the end of December.

The masses are easily confused. If we see forty two thousand trailers four months in advance, by the time the movie actually is released we sort of think that we saw it all ready.

Or we are sick to DEATH of the trailers and aren't going to see it just out of spite.

Besides, don't they know that we are an instant gratification society.

Just last night I saw an ad for a movie that looked kind of good, it put me in the mood to go to the movies, but then it turns out the movie isn't even coming out until December 23rd.

Probably December 2006 anyway.

And by then I won't be in the mood to go the movies anyway.


Dumb.

And ANNOYING.



PS: It is equally annoying to watch movie trailers at the movies in December that advertise blockbusters due out in the summer. Dumb! Annoying!

Sucky celebs

I never ever thought I would ever get tired of celebrity shenanigans.

But holy crapola! Just even saying that makes me feel like I farted in church.

Celebrity ennui has settled across my brain like a fuzzy wet blanket, damn it!
(and yes, I know that I am not supposed have any interest whatsoever about celebs, but my brain requires some sort of mental candy, and quite frankly nothing quite satisfies my gray blob like the Enquirer or People or some other such pap, so back off bub!)

Among the things that have failed to interest me at all:

Nick & Jessica: Splitsville... well duh, only a blind & deaf retard didn't see that coming.

Kimberly & Tallin (who the f*ck are they again??): Started dating last Tuesday, got engaged Saturday, broke up yesterday. Whatever, ho-hum.

Paris Hilton (not the boy Paris): got a monkey-dog thingy, possibly ate a cornflake, consulted with a surgeon about correcting the awkwardly boxy shape of her head. Yeah, yeah, thrillaminute.

Kate n' Tom: Got a sonogram machine to flip out their destined-for-therapy fetus even more. That is friggin' creepy ok. That's not celebrity news, that's a skeleton that should be returned to the closet immediately.


Honestly, even VH-1's Best Week Ever can no longer hold my interest.
Ugh, there is a tear in the cosmic fabric. We need new celebrities.

Time to hose off Hollywood and start fresh.

Stupid Gaelg Vanninagh

So those in the know know how the name SHAMRAG came about.
Me, my Irish housemate, and her Irish friends were all sitting around playing a friendly, Heineken-driven game of Smubble and someone threw down "shamrag".

Shamrag, you know, is when your sex partner won't put out on more than one occasion in a month. Or acts like a raving looney toon for no apparent reason. Well, they are on the 'sham'rag.

This, plus other made up words, provided HOURS of amusement - helped in no small part by beer, because it IS true that alcohol makes shit funnier.

But guess what? Shamrag is a word.

A real word.


In friggin GAELIC

And it means friggin SHAMROCK

And not Ken Shamrock the Ultimate Fighting Champion.

With these Thai-vestite lovelies, its better to spit, not swallow

UPDATE: I forgot to include a link to the original story, my bad. I don't want anyone to think that I am clever enough to make this sh*t up. And since it was in the news, it must be true! Ok!

According to Thai police, tourists are being "hoodwinked" by certain creatures of the seamy
kind.

It would seem that these Thai-vestites are divesting tourist of their wallets and lordy knows what else by hiding sleeping tablets under their tongues then shooting them down the victims throat during make out sessions.

Hmmm.

That seems hard to do.

a) you'd have to hide the tablet under the tongue for a certain amount of time so you'd run the risk of making your own bad self a little sleepy.

b) the logistics of shooting a tablet down someone's throat while making out with them without invoking at least some small gag-reflex is outside my realm of imagination. And therefore is one more reason why I am not a Thai transvestite.

So yeah next time you rascally tourists try to have it on with a Thai tranvestite, for the love of Haysoos remember:

SPIT, don't swallow

The Amish didn't even ask for it...

There is an interesting bit of news from Pennsylvania today. It seems that the Game Commission may allow the use of atlatls in time for the hunting season next year.

WTF is an atlatl you ask? Well I asked the same question.

An atlatl is a Stone Age weapon. It is basically a launching device to hurl a dart or spear.

Being the city-living-asphalt-loving kind of person I am, this for me is akin to okie noodling. I will never ever understand the allure of mucking about in chest high water and catching a mean old fish with your bare hands.

Using an atlatl to hunt game is just something I can't visualize. So I googled it. And actually, I think that it looks pretty easy to use. You hold the atlatl, pop a dart or spear in the holder, and when you're ready, you pull and fling the dart or spear forward. I am 100% sure that I would launch the darn thing directly into my foot.

Primitive Weapons has a picture of a mullet-sporting gal dressed in a Hollywood Prehistoric outfit posing with an atlatl. Then scroll down to the bikini clad cartoon woman page turner. Well worth the misogynistic laugh.

Personally, I am hoping that the Game Commission here in Massachusetts brings back the high seas cutlass. Hunting with a cutlass while talking like a pirate seems like jolly fun, argh matey, wheres me parrot argh!!!

One Fine Fruitcake

Easily the most maligned cake in the entire universe, a good fruitcake is actually really quite... good!

How do I know this? Because I made one and ate it and I thought it was darn good.

Monks like fruitcake: Monastery Fruitcake
There is a society to protect fruitcake: Fruitcake Society
Feel free to send me any and all unwanted fruitcake.

Just don't call me a fruitcake.
That would just be insulting.

The best thing about Sunday...

is watching completely underrated movies like Loverboy.

Basically it is a movie about a pizza delivery boy who goes around dorking various bored California wives all in an effort to get his girlfriend back. All they have to do is order a pizza with extra anchovies.

Ok, well let me tell you, in Boston if you order a large anchovy pizza, that's exactly what you're gonna get. And another thing, the fellow delivering your pizza will look exactly NOTHING like the hothothot Patrick Dempsey. Plus he probably won't even speak English which confuses the issue even more.

I don't think I will be able to finish this pizza...

November is Glue Month

Be careful where you sit, touch, lick, stand, lean, or otherwise make contact.

The Glue Guns are out.

One guy had his testicles glued to his abdomen by his now ex-girlfriend. He is suing for more than $30,000, though if you ask me this sounds a lot like a Casual Encounter!

Another fella was sat down to pee at a Home Depot and found himself firmly glued to the toilet seat. He is suing, however it sounds like he was more aggravated that no one came to his rescue as they thought he was kidding. Well, duh. It must have been his first visit to the mighty HD because anyone who has been there more than once knows that all HD Employees are contractually obligated to treat ALL customers like a joke. "You wan'a glue gun, well sure, that's row 2, no wait row 22, or wait no, row 32. Oh what tha f*ck, I dunno, ask that guy over there."

And just tonight I saw a guy walking down my street with a bit of brown paper bag stuck to his upper lip. And I KNOW that sh*t is glue-related.

So watch out, if it looks sticky or smells funky - get away.

Oh and yeah you're welcome!

Shameless Hot Dude Post

I can't help myself.

Jamie Foxx is HOT.

Jake Gyllennhaalalla looks like a Q-tip.

hoo raah

Posting your pee-pee on the Internet.

Now, I will be the first to admit out loud that I am totally addicted to Mr. Craigslists Casual Encounters.

I know for a FACT that my other friends are addicted too, but they don't have to fill blog pages so I will leave them be - for now.

ANYWAY, back to my original point. Did you know that people really are not shy about posting pictures of their bits and pieces online?

It reveals a side to Massachusetts that I was completely unaware of.

Some of the things that left a lasting impression (for better or worse I suppose):

1. You learn something new every day, and today that lesson was of the Cleveland Steamer sort. Personally I would NEVER let someone else crap on any part of my body because quite frankly, crap belongs in a toilet, or in a hole in the woods covered by leaves. However if YOU are curious about this exercise, there is someone on Casual Encounters to try this with.

2. About one in five of every pee-pee photo shows a peeper that points to the right. At first I thought that this was the work of one desperate poster, but upon closer inspection I have determined that there are quite a few wonky willys looking for action.

3. Like the regular Personal Ads, the folks of Casual Encounters have, for the most part, completely unreasonable expectations of what they think are going to get. In straight up ads everyone is looking for "hot" and "thin" and "funny", and for this you get drinks and maybe dinner. In Casual Encounters everyone is also looking for "hot" and "thin", although "funny" not so much, however instead of drinks and maybe dinner, you must be willing to perform a bewildering array of sexual hijinks with a total stranger. Hmmmmmmm, I dunno about this. I mean really, see #2.

And truly people are left alone to post all their wild, perverse, entertaining, intriguing, and wishful desires. Unlike the deranged denziens of Rants and Rave, the quirky folk of CE don't Re:re:RE:re;re:re:rE:re each other to death. It's the last place to live and let live in silent judgement.

Especially the guy who dresses up like a gladiator, quotes the movie Gladiator in his post, and can't decide between a JO or a LTR. Or the guy who poses with his pee-pee in one hand and surrounded by the messiest bedroom I have ever seen posted on the List. Jeez looweez, at least sweep all that crap under the bed! And ruffled wine colored curtains with a matching ruffley valance over a venetian blinds will NOT get you laid. I repeat, will NOT get you laid. Ever.

If you were a teen in 1980 to 1989, you should be in therapy

I know that VH-1 is the primary source for reminding me of all the 80's crap I try to forget. However just recently I hit the trifecta of crap all by my lonesome!

I really cannot explain how this all came together for me, but somehow within the space of a few days it has finally become startling clear to me why so many people I know who came of age in the glorious 80's should be in some form of therapy.

The first clue was I found an old copy of Flowers in the Attic (1979)

The second was watching the movie Red Dawn (1984)

The third was watching the movie Blue Lagoon (1980)

The trifecta of crap.

Flowers in the Attic: This was a book about four middle class kids locked up in their grandparents attic by their mother and grandmother to conceal their existence from Grandfather.

Let me tell you right now - no one read this because they thought it was a classic of American literature.

They read it because the sister and the brother shagged.
And back in the 80's that was pretty titillating stuff.
Are kids these days even allowed to read it anymore?

Red Dawn: Patrick Swayze & Jennifer Grey pre-Dirty Dancing!
Charlie Sheen pre- Ferris Buellers Day Off!
Lea Thompson pre-Back to the Future!

Ahhh yes, the carefree & heady days of the Reagan "we begin bombing in five minutes" Administration! Red Dawn was this great movie about the Russian invasion of Colorado - easily the most landlocked state in the US.

And I am sure there was a reason for that, a reason that I missed because I was too busy fantasizing about bunking and hunkering down with a young Patrick Swayze. Hot! Hot! HOT!

Although for a long time I really wanted Jennifer Grey's light blue puffy parka.

Blue Lagoon: Oh this movie I saw at the WRONG time!

I saw this movie on channel 56, a hot bed in the 80's for Saturday afternoon trashy movies when I was a pre-teen and all hopped up on hormones.

Here is this movie about two kids stranded on an island who grow up into teens who bonk ALOT, as they should since they are played with vacuous perfection by Brooke Shields and Christopher Atkins. So they are flirting and swimming (naked boy pee pee!!!) and bonking, when Brooke suddenly goes moody and headachy and hungry.

Guess who is going to have a baby. Yep, a baby. What the hell message is THAT to send?

The "having a baby" scene cracks me up now - picture a young Brooke Shields making odd grunts and groans while crouched under a tree at night, then after a couple of minutes of "ugh unnnngggghhhh" there comes the unmistakable wail of a newborn which I swear is preceded by a plopping-into-leaves noise. Come the next morning, teen Mom and teen Pop carry a very large and very clean baby back to their split level tiki hut.

At this point the bonking comes to an end (boo hoo!) and I don't remember the ending.

This really is just the tip of the iceberg of crud that is very dear to me for being the pap on which I was raised.

However to all my dear peers, I know for a fact all this messed us up. My proof? In grade school a classmate married her poster of Rick Springfield in a playground ceremony with like 9 attendants. Another classmate stole dimes to prank call "Jenny" from payphones, which I am sure would make Mr. Tuotone very happy. Though I am sure he would have preferred that she just mail him the dimes.

Sing it with me bitches: "wait six seven fyve three ohhh niy-e-eyenn! I gaadit I gaaditt!!!!"

Not so smaht

Maybe you have heard about George and Jennifer Hyatte. They are the bozo husband and wife team who shot his way out of custody.

Seemingly while the hubby was being transferred, the little wifey showed up, began blasting away, killed one guard, injured the others, and off they went - to Motel 6.

Duh!

You just shot up law enforcement! You should be camping in the WOODS, not in cheapo motels where the guy at the front desk can make a few bucks from turning your criminal asses in!

So dumb, they should be in the pokey for stupidity alone!

Baaaaaaaaad Advertising

I am of the school that all advertising is a load of crapola. Someone somewhere gets paid to invent ways to get a person to buy something by way of fancy sentence structure or by za-za-zoom commercials.

At this point who could really believe that two identical products could work differently simply for having different packaging. Politicians get elected the same way.

But anyway, currently Target is running an ad promoting their donation to a school in Arizona for homeless children. Probably some chucho in advertising thought "hmm, let's advertise our generous philanthropy in order to lull our customers into feeling relieved of their obligation to give to others, then they can come and spend that extra dollar in store!"

Walmart does this same b******t.

Charity for the sake of being charitable, please. Otherwise it is just tacky.

Boston is run by retahds

Example One: Resident Parking only.

Some transportation genius decided that rather than issue household visitor passes, it would be easier to assign about two spaces per street to vistor parking.

DUMB IDEA

In an area with chronic parking woes, do you think that anyone is going to leave that space open for visitors?

Example Two: Rolling Parking Restrictions.

On my street signs appear on Tuesday that read "No Parking - Wed. Aug. 3 - 5"

On Friday, August 5, a piece of tape went up on the signs that said "No Parking - Mon Aug 8 & 9 & 10"

Today the signs have all been changed to "Aug 9 & 10 & 11".

Both sides of the street, for two blocks.

And no one can tell me why.

Where all de white wimmin at?

"What in the wide wide world of sports is goin' on over here? I hired you to get a little track laid, not to dance around like a bunch of Kansas City faggots!"


Blazing Saddles.
Funniest f*&%ing movie I have ever seen.

Forget Ca-Noodling, try Oakie Noodling!

I wish I knew the kinds of people who wade chest deep into a lake and stick their duct-taped hands into catfish lairs, then grab the damn fish with their bare hands.

If I knew these kinds of people I would be out gigging and drinking instead of sweating and blogging.

What ELSE weighs in at 14 friggin' pounds?

A woman in Kentucky gave birth to a FOURTEEN baby.

Unlike the woman in Wisconsin last month who gave birth to a 13lb 12oz baby which they then nicknamed "Big Enchilada".

I shit you not.

Don't believe me, click this.

Quite frankly, it literally gives me a pain to think about it.

And it got me thinking: What else weighs 14 pounds?

A medium sized turkey.
A portable kyack
A bowling ball
A brown trout
A case of circus peanuts

Now would anyone want to birth any of the above?

I think not.