Your Boyfriend Is Gay! And Other Such Truths.

Exit Stage Left

Ok, so I am leaving tomorrow morning for the great North West.  This is my seemingly yearly jaunt to the familar stomping grounds of old.  Can't wait!

Talk about penis envy!  The story the link to the right outlines a German man and his apparent need for scratching falic shaps on to cars.  All of this leads me to ask again, why Germany?  What is it about this country that lands so many stories of the odd?

Now, I think I will have some toast (this comment provided free of charge for Kevin K.)

Word!

So, am having this fantastic email conversation with a very cool gentleman when the word "ginormous" is written.  And my very interesting correspondent mentions that his spell check catch it.  I share a chuckle in written form with him after reading.

Flash forward to the next day and a conversation with friend over made up words.  I mention the ginormous item to her and she says "No points, it's a word".

WHAT?!

"Yes, it is.  Check it on dictionary.com."

So I did.  And would you know it? It is in there!!

To quote Wallace Shawn as Vizzini in THAT MOVIE (yes, I still have over exposure issues with it)...

"INCONCEIVABLE!!"

Yes, but it's true.

Too bad they haven't put "supportizationalisitic" in there yet, one of my coworkers would be so proud of himself.

Skyline

Donald.  It's his birthday today, and I miss him.  I miss everyone, really.  But now when I walk into the bar in my home town, I irrationally think he will be behind the counter, ready with some quick quip.  But he isn't there and will never be again.

I will be there in a few weeks to visit all of the friends of my childhood.  Each of whom I love and respect, and can't wait to see. 

But enough of that!

Now it's time to make some observations:

This man now officially scares me.  Those hands, those cheeks...  Gazing at this picture leads me to ask the question:  Is this man the lead singer of one of the greatest rock bands of history or The new Crypt Keeper?  You decide.  I just can't get the image of him in a blood red cloak in a dungeon laughing maniacally.

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Hi.  My name is Hillary Duff and I want to talk to you about your personal relationship with me.

Death and the Maiden?

Sometimes I despise technology.  I had the mother of all posts ready, but alas one casual flick of the finger on the mouse pad and it all goes away.

Oh well, I will give a synopsis as follows:

1.  A German man drowns after the One That Got Away steals his fishing pole.  Why do these things always happen in Germany?  I suppose they still have massive Karmic debt to pay.

2. The past couple of weeks in pictures:

NO! No, pictures please!  It will steal my soul!

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I knew it!  And you knew it too.

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Can one use haggard as a verb?  In Cybill's case, I believe you can.

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Now I LOVE The Cure, but when, oh when, is this man going to look happy?  I swear he is beginning to look like Courtney Love's darker, depressed, yet in better make-up brother.

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Now Speaking of Courtney "I've been sober for a year, I swear" Love...  She had the honor of being one of the "illustrious guests" at the "Celebrity" Roast of Pamela Anderson on Comedy Central.  Aside from the endless litany of bad jokes concerning Ms. Anderson's breasts, acting ability, apparently cavernous vagina, the size of her ex-husbands shlong and the apparent masculine visage of Bea Arthur (who was one of the few actually funny roasters); the only really funny moment came when Nick Di Paulo (I know... WHO?) ponders how it's possible for the living Ms. Love to actually look worse than Kurt!  GENIUS!

And now for an apology.  I have been gently chided by a coworker about the name I have given to a fellow coworker and to be completely fair, I will quote the rebuke in it's entirety:

Ok, now to the important stuff…… I have been reading your blog and must say I am extremely disappointed that you have selected this certain Republican co-worker of yours to represent us all. This certain associate is known to me, he has tried to “save me” many times. He has been kicked out of the Republicans club, he is truly too obnoxious even for a Republican! Please, Please, PLEASE……..call him your right wing religious fanatical co-worker eh? It is making the rest of us look bad (why he was kicked out in the first place.) Regardless, as much as you rap on us…this Republican has much love for your liberal self (even if your politics are all wrong!!!!!!!)

Now, she is right of course.  Not all republicans can be put in the same category, so from hence forth he will no longer be known as Really Irritating Republican Coworker [RIRCW], but as Really Irritating Right Wing Religious Coworker [RIRWRCW].  So I offer my sincerest apology to J.A.D. and the rest of my real Republican friends, relatives, and coworkers in who are trying to bring their party back to where it was and leave the creepy religious right where it belongs - in the churches of inbred, backwater counties of our nation.

Besides, they all dress SOOO badly! (the creepy right wing religous, that is.  Nancy Reagan always looked good - if a little withered)

Precarious

Am in a "state".  And not sure what that "state" is.  Perhaps something akin to a mild hissy-fit, but not quite.  Grumpy comes close.  But not quite close enough.

But on an other note...  the following was sent to me by Gina G:

Now, when one clicks on the image to the left, you should notice two very important things:

1. The new and, until now, virtually unknown use of duct tape.  Am wondering if the lady driving the car had an epiphany when confronted with the need to stuff her little car with all that stuff that amounted too "Hey!!  Why don't I use duct tape?!  It's such a useful item and so cheap as well?" or was it more like "Damn!  Billy Bob!  Where did you put the rope and bungee cords?!  I hope you didn't use them for tying up the sheep again!"

2. The road sign signifying their location as either Texas or possibly Oklahoma.  I am banking on OK as even most Texans wouldn't resort to the use of duct tape in this fashion.  It's just way to Okie for it's own good (and upon close inspection of the photo, am able to confirm it's of Okie origin).

Just so you, dear reader, can fully appreciate original use of duct tape, I have included a second, more detailed photo.  Notice the demure turned head of the driver.  So modest.  At first glance, I had originally thought that there were additional passengers in the back seat, but was later to confirm that it appeared to be household goods of  some kind or another...  Perhaps wrapped in an old t-shirt.

And who ever said Geo Storms had no capacity for cargo?

Unmentionables

What does one find upon returning home from business trip?  Well nothing less than a fully stopped up bathroom sink!

What does one do?

Well, I'll tell ya what one does.

He goes out and immediately purchases two bottles of Drano to extracate the offending material from the pipes in question.

This doesn't work.

He then realizes in some crazed, Drano fume induced moment that he still has the gag Christmas gift given to him by former coworker.  Now, it must be stated here that I have never used said gift and have never had any plans to use it.  Said gift was a home enema kit (former coworker apparently thought I was a little anal when I managed people...  get it?).

!!

So, working in a feverish frenzy (with no little chance of harm coming to himself), yours truly fills hot water/enema bag with drano, attaches the long plastic tubing to said bag, and proceeds to stuff the long white thingy down the drain (again in feverish frenzy) and begins to press on bag to force the Drano out in a blast of get-out-of-drain-so-I-can-wash-my-face-and-shave-ish-ness fury.

I would like to say that it worked, but in the end the only thing that the Drano seemed to work on was the poor unassuming psuedo rubber tubing.

The clog appeared to be laughing at me.  It relented in the end and died a good death.

p.s. - R has just mentioned to me as I am writing this and relaying the tale to him, that perhaps - just perhaps, I should invest in a snake.  Now, while this seems like a good idea, it is just to practical.

Flight of the freaks

Hadn't planned it.  But I never do.

Sat on the tarmac for an hour and a half waiting for clearance to get the hell out of the South.  Was stuck sitting next to Grandma Clampet with her little slutty grand daughter across the isle.

Grandma Clampet: While rummaging around in one of her two VERY large purses that she insisted be either in her lap or under the seat crowding my work paraphernalia. "That child is going to be the death of me!"

Yours Truly: With poorly masked disdain. "And which child is that" (note: the entire plane was virtually filled with children traveling on their own back from what ever it was they were).

GC: Flipping her rather thin long stale smoke hair.  "That little slut right there!"

YT: "Oh" Moves to put headphones back on to go back into The Sundays land.

GC: Grabs YT's hand (MY HAND!!) "Her mother is turning her into a SLUT!"

YT: "Um, yeah...  She can't be more than 8.  I know I may regret this, but pray tell me why do you think her mother is turning her into a slut?"

GC: "Her mother is still stripping!  STRIPPING!!  I had the good sense to stop stripping after my first baby was born!"

YT: Amazed that this rather Harvey Fir stein lookin' like red eyed woman actually stripped ANYTHING in her life. "hmmm.  I see.  Well, let me just say this: I DON"T CARE.  I don't care if your grand daughter decides to start stripping to pay her way through beauty school in 5 years.  I just want to get home with as little irritation as possible.  You are not helping reach this goal."

The rest of the flight was for her, I am sure, an uncomfortable silence.  But I didn't care.  I had The Sundays.

The Queen City part 2

Have just realized that forgot to clean out frig before leaving on latest round of travel to the Hive (new nickname for headquarters of work empire that am small cog for).  Am wondering if items will be walking on their own upon return.

Had this strange dream last night that culminated in a review of my love life done completely in interpretive dance accompanied by Japanese tribal drums and Sitar cover of Love Child by the Supremes.  I don't remember who any of the actual dancers were, but the sitar player was Rolf with Alycia and both Eric's playing the drums.

I shudder to think what this means.

The Queen City

Best line heard at Charlotte International Airport:

"Bobby Joe!  Don't pull your sisters hair, that's not civilized!"

"Bobbie Jo!  Don't tease your brother, or he'll keep pulling your hair!"

I imagine that she at least spelled them the way I have above.

I have too, it keeps me sane.

I know this to be true... Really... I swear

Ok,

This was a truly nice day.

Although...

Let's talk about the FUCKED up trailer for the new movie "A Scanner Darkly".  It apparently takes place in Los Angeles several years from now and the "war on drugs" has been lost.  But that is not the important part.  let's look at who stars in it:

Keanu Reaves - Most emotional line ever spoken: "I know Kung Fu."

Robert Downey Jr. - Less Than Zero.

Woody Harrelson - Am wondering if he took this role under the provision that all his clothes would be made of hemp.  Or maybe he just did it for more pot money.

Winona Ryder - I hope they had everything nailed down.

But the trailer though...  it's done in this artsy-fartsy pseudo japaninmation meets Nightmarish Nagel painting.  I would encourage all to see it for the shear "Theme Restaurant Torture" of it. 

Too bad Planet Hollywood isn't still around, they could show screenings in several dead languages...  wait!  That's Mel Gibson.

Day O

Have come to the conclusion that white men are biologically unable to perform Calypso or Reggae music.

The business park that my company is located is holding their annual "Ice Cream Social" (an event that I didn't think happened anymore outside of small Lutheran dominated towns in the Dakotas) and has invited an all white calypso band to perform (this is Minnesota after all).

Four pudgy white men playing steel drums and rhythm guitars and belting out Harry Belafonte and Bob Marley tunes, dressed in matching Caribbean style shirts and linen pants.

Normally, I would enjoy this in that "I'm-embarrassed-for-you" kinda way for a moment or two and then head back to my office to enjoy the silence or at the very least my MP3 player.

But am unable too due to the following:

REALLY IRRITATING REPUBLICAN COWORKER: (Again with the poorly executed condescension) "I can hear your music from three rows away and I am trying to enjoy these guys in the courtyard. They are one of my favorite local bands, ya know."

YOURS TRULY: (with barely suppressed revulsion) "I will turn it down a bit, but I am not enjoying them.  They are actually giving me a headache."

RIRCW: (Trying to be smug) "Why would you get a headache from this good wholesome music?"

YT: "So a calypso version of Santana's Oye Como Va sung by an over weight balding white guy who's gut is hanging out of his stained shirt is wholesome, but Vivaldi isn't?"

RIRCW: "That's not my point.  You don't have the right to impose your music on me when a perfectly good alternative is available that I and my fellow members of the RIGHT on this floor wish to listen too."

YT: "Yeah, fine.  But I will speak to my UNION about this."

Smile for the Camera

OK, I am completely dense, but I missed the whole acquisition of MySpace.com by News Corporation!  Kinda makes me glad that I moved my blog from MySpace when I did.

Rupert Murdoch (and his alter ego, Dr. Doom) is the illustrious CEO of News Corporation.  This bastion of the "fare and balanced" media that includes such "reputable" outlets as FOX News (yup, he is Bill O'Reilly and Oli North's pimp) and the New York Post (where they put Liz Smith Gossip along side "relevant" commentary on political issues such as bitching about Hillary Clinton's hair).

And yet, they NEVER report on the things that really matter such as the following:

Kim Jong-Il.  Dear Leader, Idiot Savant, or SUPERSTAR!! 

There is nothing like the smiling countenance of a political mad man to brighten an otherwise dull day.

Friends of P

REALLY IRRITATING REPUBLICAN COWORKER: Why do you people like Hillary Clinton so much? (note: said with thinly veiled and poorly executed condescension)

YOURS TRULY: Hmm...  What exactly do you mean 'you people'?

RIRCW: You know...  you GAYS.  Why do you feel the need to latch on to her like some later day liberal messiah?

YT: I wouldn't know, I don't particularly like her.  I don't particularly dislike her either.  And since I haven't been to a UNION meeting in a while, I am not sure why all the rest seem to have an affinity for her.

RIRCW: UNION?  What UNION?

YT: The Gay UNION.

RIRCW: YOU PEOPLE HAVE A UNION?! (Said in that I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter way that they all seem to have when they feel they have been left out of anything)

YT: Let me answer that question with a question: Do you have an education?

RIC: (again with the poorly executed condescension) I have degrees in Politics and Business.

YT: Then yes, we have a UNION...  A big one.

Yet another reason why I like to work from home as often as possible.

Bailey, Banks and Biddle

No Jesus Freaks this morning.  Was horribly dissappointed.  Am left with these feelings of emptiness and meloncholia...  or is that just gas.

However, I do have one little tid-bit for all of you, my faithful friends, readers, fans, and random-blog-readers:

<---  This is Nick.  Nick enjoys biking, hiking, sking, knitting and many other "ings".  Ain't he just adorable?  ADORABLE!  Behind that rough and tumble exterior, beats the heart of a true gentleman.  And while his unfortunate choice of attire for the day appears to make him look like every other visor arrayed, tank top sportin', 3/4 short pants wearin guido-jock-wanna-be out there, he is a really nice man (boy).  And his girlfriend is HOT!  And this is coming from me.

Now, Nick is a little upset at Joe and I as we left him a rather disparaging message on his choice of clothes.  We gave him this information out of love and genuine brotherhood (and in that artful we-won't-say-it-is-you-exactly-but-it-will-be-hard-not-to-figure-out kinda way).  And  he repays us with this charming portrait of himself.  Always a giver, Nick shows us that he is not only handsome, but multi-talented.

And I do have to admit, that while his choice of clothing is unfortunate, he is still quite the looker.  To bad he's taken ladies.