Scene: the inside of an apple, which has been hollowed out somehow. Apparently people live there, as two neighbors meet to discuss something.
NEIGHBOR #1: So you just moved in to the apple, huh?
NEIGHBOR #2: Into the what?
NEIGHBOR #1: The apple.
NEIGHBOR #2: This is an apple? I thought we just bought a new house.
NEIGHBOR #1: You did, but your house is inside an apple.
NEIGHBOR #2: How did that happen?
NEIGHBOR #1: How did what happen?
NEIGHBOR #2: How did our new house get inside of an apple?
NEIGHBOR #1: It's always been inside of an apple.
NEIGHBOR #2: But--
NEIGHBOR #1: Oh look, it's the Apple King!
APPLE KING: Hello, how are you on this fine apple day?
NEIGHBOR #2: Hey, I just--
NEIGHBOR #1: We're doing excellent, O wonderful Apple King!
APPLE KING: You haven't seen my baseball card collection, have you?
NEIGHBOR #1: No, I'm afraid we haven't, my king. You lost it again?
APPLE KING: Yes, yes, it always seems to get away from me. Hopefully that dastardly Duke of Pineapple hasn't already gotten his greedy mitts on it.
NEIGHBOR #1: If the Duke shows his face around here, I'll be sure to sock him one for you, your majesty.
APPLE KING: Thank you, loyal serf. I'll remember you the next time there's an opening on the Board of Juicification.
NEIGHBOR #1: Oh king! That's always been my dream!
APPLE KING: Then let us dance the dance of apples!
They dance.
NEIGHBOR #2: Maybe living inside an apple won't be that bad after all.
NEIGHBOR #2'S WIFE: Honey, did you know that our house is inside an apple?
NEIGHBOR #2: I know, Mildred. I know.
5.27.2009
Missed Penguins
Hey everybody! I found a blog the other day (thanks to the indirect recommendation of someone whose company I enjoy, albeit infrequently) that posts illustrations to accompany the "missed connections" personals in New York papers. It's a really beautiful blog, and I mean that sincerely. It also inspired me to write my own version of "missed connections" from the perspective of a penguin. Enjoy!
A Penguin's Missed Connections by Bertrand G. Penguington
I was on one of the trains--I don't know which one it was because I can't read--and you stared at me and smiled while you were talking on the phone with your boyfriend. Your hat was cute. I was the penguin.
You almost got in my cab somewhere around 47th. You said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know this was taken." I would have said that you could join me, but I couldn't open my beak fast enough. In case you don't remember, I was the penguin.
You're the only other penguin I've met in this penguin-forsaken city. I was also a penguin.
You kicked me when you were walking down the street somewhere in Manhattan. Maybe it was an accident, but you didn't even apologize. Do you hate penguins? (I was the penguin, by the way.)
I caught your eyes when we were at the zoo. Maybe you were wondering what I was doing walking around like a regular person. I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner. I hope you date penguins.
I muttered something under my breath about how a penguin can't get a break in this world, and you helped cheer me up. Then you threw me out the bus window. That was not cool, and I wanted you to know that.
A Penguin's Missed Connections by Bertrand G. Penguington
I was on one of the trains--I don't know which one it was because I can't read--and you stared at me and smiled while you were talking on the phone with your boyfriend. Your hat was cute. I was the penguin.
You almost got in my cab somewhere around 47th. You said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know this was taken." I would have said that you could join me, but I couldn't open my beak fast enough. In case you don't remember, I was the penguin.
You're the only other penguin I've met in this penguin-forsaken city. I was also a penguin.
You kicked me when you were walking down the street somewhere in Manhattan. Maybe it was an accident, but you didn't even apologize. Do you hate penguins? (I was the penguin, by the way.)
I caught your eyes when we were at the zoo. Maybe you were wondering what I was doing walking around like a regular person. I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner. I hope you date penguins.
I muttered something under my breath about how a penguin can't get a break in this world, and you helped cheer me up. Then you threw me out the bus window. That was not cool, and I wanted you to know that.
5.21.2009
Adventures in Urban Pigeon Hunting
A while back, my roommate Yorick (name changed to protect said roommate from legal action) bought a blow gun so he could take out the pigeons that so persistently poop on our doorstep and mailbox. To most this may seem like an extreme reaction to a minor problem, and it probably is. But I'm not here to criticize.
So check this out:
This, friends, is a pigeon with a dart in its neck. As if that wasn't already pretty obvious.
So in the course of Yorick's hunting, he's nailed many-a-pigeon in the neck, but he's only had one confirmed kill. Most of the time he hits them and they just fly off, presumably to die elsewhere. Apparently, though, they never die and end up flying around with these darts stuck in 'em like nothing ever happened.
We all knew pigeons were stupid. But stupid enough to go on living and pooping like normal despite the unrelenting presence of a dart in the neck? That's beyond what any of us could have hoped or dreamed.
The greatest insult of all? This pigeon is going to poop on our doorstep so much more now. Or maybe the greatest insult will be when one of these pigeon shows up at the police station and "Yorick" ends up getting arrested after a lengthy sting operation. In either case, it would have been much more efficient to use a bazooka.
So check this out:
This, friends, is a pigeon with a dart in its neck. As if that wasn't already pretty obvious.
So in the course of Yorick's hunting, he's nailed many-a-pigeon in the neck, but he's only had one confirmed kill. Most of the time he hits them and they just fly off, presumably to die elsewhere. Apparently, though, they never die and end up flying around with these darts stuck in 'em like nothing ever happened.
We all knew pigeons were stupid. But stupid enough to go on living and pooping like normal despite the unrelenting presence of a dart in the neck? That's beyond what any of us could have hoped or dreamed.
The greatest insult of all? This pigeon is going to poop on our doorstep so much more now. Or maybe the greatest insult will be when one of these pigeon shows up at the police station and "Yorick" ends up getting arrested after a lengthy sting operation. In either case, it would have been much more efficient to use a bazooka.
5.01.2009
The Magnificent Game
The Internets are alive today with thoughts on the incredible Game 6 of the Bulls-Celtics playoff series, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Bulls won in 3 overtimes. In six games, there have been seven overtimes, and five of those six games have been decided by one play. It's incredible. It being fresh in my mind, I wanted to record some thoughts. I'll post something funny later.
Since Game 3 or 4, some people have been calling this possibly the best playoff series in NBA history. It's been that good. But what really gets me is the fan reaction after Game 6. People haven't just been talking about the team they want to win, but they're talking about their love for the game, and how that love is captured in this moment (or series of moments).
Sports almost never does this, but it can reach a level where it brings something out of us, the fans, that transcends the game. I mean, every sports fan wants to see a good game, and we see a lot of bad ones, but every fifty years or so there's something that's more than just a good game. It's something that brings people together, even people who really wouldn't care otherwise. This Bulls-Celtics series is approaching something special like that. I know it sounds ridiculous, but if you read around the net, you'll know what I mean.
If you'll allow me to get really overdramatic, it reminds me of the Miracle on Ice. People got on board for this Olympic hockey game like never before, and maybe hockey was more popular in 1980, but even then, this game brought the country together. A hockey game. In 1980, the only hockey teams south of the Mason-Dixon line were in LA and Atlanta, and the Atlanta team moved to Canada the following season. Somehow, this game that appealed more to some Canadians than most Americans still caught our hearts. I don't think we can imagine anything, let alone a sports game, uniting us like that today. But it was about more than patriotism or anything like that. As easy as it was to draw political lines, that doesn't speak to the heart of the fanaticism over a hockey game. This was something more, something you can't put your finger on. And the feeling everybody got when those guys won, well, see Miracle. I cry every time I watch that movie.
It makes me want to part of a Magnificent Game. We love games like this because we want to be part of something like that. We want the struggle, the back-and-forth, the come-from-behind victory, the back-breaking impossible play. But since most of us will never be in a sports moment like that, we want that with our lives. That's why it speaks to our hearts and not just our rooting interests, because the struggle really matters.
We can make a game out of everything, but how do you make it truly Magnificent? We play the money game, the sex game, the fame game, the knowledge game, whatever. But to really matter, you have to have a magnificent goal, a magnificent end. If I play for money my whole life, it won't mean a thing in the end. I want to think eternally, and then I want to think about how my life can be a Magnificent Game forever. I mean, whoever wins this Bulls-Celtics series will get beat by LeBron and the Cavs. In the bizarre chance that one of these teams wins the championship, then they play for a few more years, get old, retire, and maybe even end up trying to sell their championship rings on eBay (as many former champions are doing now). It's a fading glory at best.
I need something that really matters. So I want to struggle against evil and fight for truth. I want to fight back when I'm down one (or ten), even if the devil keeps coming back and taking the lead from me. And there's so many ways to take this metaphor, like designing the right plays and going for the unbelievable shots, but I'll just leave it at that. To me, it comes down to whether I'm playing the right game.
Since Game 3 or 4, some people have been calling this possibly the best playoff series in NBA history. It's been that good. But what really gets me is the fan reaction after Game 6. People haven't just been talking about the team they want to win, but they're talking about their love for the game, and how that love is captured in this moment (or series of moments).
Sports almost never does this, but it can reach a level where it brings something out of us, the fans, that transcends the game. I mean, every sports fan wants to see a good game, and we see a lot of bad ones, but every fifty years or so there's something that's more than just a good game. It's something that brings people together, even people who really wouldn't care otherwise. This Bulls-Celtics series is approaching something special like that. I know it sounds ridiculous, but if you read around the net, you'll know what I mean.
If you'll allow me to get really overdramatic, it reminds me of the Miracle on Ice. People got on board for this Olympic hockey game like never before, and maybe hockey was more popular in 1980, but even then, this game brought the country together. A hockey game. In 1980, the only hockey teams south of the Mason-Dixon line were in LA and Atlanta, and the Atlanta team moved to Canada the following season. Somehow, this game that appealed more to some Canadians than most Americans still caught our hearts. I don't think we can imagine anything, let alone a sports game, uniting us like that today. But it was about more than patriotism or anything like that. As easy as it was to draw political lines, that doesn't speak to the heart of the fanaticism over a hockey game. This was something more, something you can't put your finger on. And the feeling everybody got when those guys won, well, see Miracle. I cry every time I watch that movie.
It makes me want to part of a Magnificent Game. We love games like this because we want to be part of something like that. We want the struggle, the back-and-forth, the come-from-behind victory, the back-breaking impossible play. But since most of us will never be in a sports moment like that, we want that with our lives. That's why it speaks to our hearts and not just our rooting interests, because the struggle really matters.
We can make a game out of everything, but how do you make it truly Magnificent? We play the money game, the sex game, the fame game, the knowledge game, whatever. But to really matter, you have to have a magnificent goal, a magnificent end. If I play for money my whole life, it won't mean a thing in the end. I want to think eternally, and then I want to think about how my life can be a Magnificent Game forever. I mean, whoever wins this Bulls-Celtics series will get beat by LeBron and the Cavs. In the bizarre chance that one of these teams wins the championship, then they play for a few more years, get old, retire, and maybe even end up trying to sell their championship rings on eBay (as many former champions are doing now). It's a fading glory at best.
I need something that really matters. So I want to struggle against evil and fight for truth. I want to fight back when I'm down one (or ten), even if the devil keeps coming back and taking the lead from me. And there's so many ways to take this metaphor, like designing the right plays and going for the unbelievable shots, but I'll just leave it at that. To me, it comes down to whether I'm playing the right game.
4.28.2009
Glowing Cats 2: Glowing Dogs
In what is fast becoming a South Korean Renaissance, South Korean scientists have now cloned glowing dogs.
You may remember a very similar story from about a year and a half ago in which South Korean scientists cloned glowing cats.
The glowing cats were a surprise. It was surprising that there was a scientific endeavor to make animals glow in the dark. It was surprising that it worked. It was surprising that they were cloned. It was surprising that it happened in South Korea.
The glowing dogs are not nearly as interesting. And I hate cats. Honestly, dogs are supposed to be way cooler, and I just can't get excited about this. The dogs don't even glow very brightly. If they fought in the dark, the cats would totally lose because they'd be way more visible.
I can't say this glowing dogs move was predictable, though. I mean, I think that once you clone glowing cats, you'd pretty much call it a day on the cloning of animals that glow. I'm sure there are people out there who, after cloning their first glowing animal, would say, "Now I need to make them all glow!" But I figured none of those people would actually be scientists.
The news story claims that these dogs were cloned with "techniques that could help develop cures for human diseases." If this were actually true, these scientists would have started on those cures after the glowing cats thing worked out. This was all about the glowing animals.
Perhaps less predictable than all of this, though, is that my blog is gradually becoming South-Korea-themed.
You may remember a very similar story from about a year and a half ago in which South Korean scientists cloned glowing cats.
The glowing cats were a surprise. It was surprising that there was a scientific endeavor to make animals glow in the dark. It was surprising that it worked. It was surprising that they were cloned. It was surprising that it happened in South Korea.
The glowing dogs are not nearly as interesting. And I hate cats. Honestly, dogs are supposed to be way cooler, and I just can't get excited about this. The dogs don't even glow very brightly. If they fought in the dark, the cats would totally lose because they'd be way more visible.
I can't say this glowing dogs move was predictable, though. I mean, I think that once you clone glowing cats, you'd pretty much call it a day on the cloning of animals that glow. I'm sure there are people out there who, after cloning their first glowing animal, would say, "Now I need to make them all glow!" But I figured none of those people would actually be scientists.
The news story claims that these dogs were cloned with "techniques that could help develop cures for human diseases." If this were actually true, these scientists would have started on those cures after the glowing cats thing worked out. This was all about the glowing animals.
Perhaps less predictable than all of this, though, is that my blog is gradually becoming South-Korea-themed.
4.21.2009
Second Dolphin-Related Post This Month
Let's be honest with ourselves. Nobody knows the difference between dolphins and porpoises. The sooner we can own up to that, the better.
Speaking of porpoises, I'm rediscovering my love for purpose/porpoise wordplay. Please enjoy the following examples of it!
NASA DIRECTOR: (Immediately following a spaceship explosion) I sure hope that was an accident.
SOME GUY: Actually, I did it on porpoise.
(Everybody laughs)
QUESTIONING GUY: What does this button do?
ANSWERING GUY: The porpoise of that button is to turn on the awesome alarm.
QUESTIONING GUY: Did you say "porpoise"?
ANSWERING GUY: Umm, no, I said purpose.
QUESTIONING GUY: I could have sworn you said "porpoise."
ANSWERING GUY: OK, yeah, I did say "porpoise."
KID: Hey daddy, look at the dolphin!
DAD: Actually, son, that's a purpose.
KID: A purpose?
DAD: Oh wait, I guess it is a dolphin.
Speaking of porpoises, I'm rediscovering my love for purpose/porpoise wordplay. Please enjoy the following examples of it!
NASA DIRECTOR: (Immediately following a spaceship explosion) I sure hope that was an accident.
SOME GUY: Actually, I did it on porpoise.
(Everybody laughs)
QUESTIONING GUY: What does this button do?
ANSWERING GUY: The porpoise of that button is to turn on the awesome alarm.
QUESTIONING GUY: Did you say "porpoise"?
ANSWERING GUY: Umm, no, I said purpose.
QUESTIONING GUY: I could have sworn you said "porpoise."
ANSWERING GUY: OK, yeah, I did say "porpoise."
KID: Hey daddy, look at the dolphin!
DAD: Actually, son, that's a purpose.
KID: A purpose?
DAD: Oh wait, I guess it is a dolphin.
4.02.2009
Sheep
Hey, what happened to all the sheep? They were here just a second ago. Seriously, like 400 sheep, and now they're all gone. That many sheep don't just disappear. Or if they do, there's no precedent for it, so I'm reluctant to believe it.
I mean, I just went to get a hot dog. It's not like I fell asleep while watching The English Patient like last time. The sheep definitely didn't have three hours to plan and execute an escape.
Man, this hot dog is good.
But seriously, did you see where the sheep went? Of course you didn't. You were too busy thinking about the hot dog you were selling me, weren't you? Man, you hot dog salesman are all the same. You don't care about anything but hot dogs. And as soon as someone loses track of 400 sheep, you're all, "I didn't see anything. I was just selling some hot dogs." Typical.
Being a shepherd really sucks, you know? I used to be a software technician, but I got laid off. Now it's just me and the sheep. Or, I guess now it's just me. Just me and this delicious hot dog.
When I got this job, the boss explicitly told me never to take my eyes off the sheep. But what am I supposed to do? Not get a hot dog? I guess he has a point, though. I did lose track of all the sheep.
I don't care if I get fired for losing all those sheep. This hot dog is so worth it.
I am a little curious, though. What ever happened to all those sheep? Maybe we'll never know.
Oh, there they are.
I mean, I just went to get a hot dog. It's not like I fell asleep while watching The English Patient like last time. The sheep definitely didn't have three hours to plan and execute an escape.
Man, this hot dog is good.
But seriously, did you see where the sheep went? Of course you didn't. You were too busy thinking about the hot dog you were selling me, weren't you? Man, you hot dog salesman are all the same. You don't care about anything but hot dogs. And as soon as someone loses track of 400 sheep, you're all, "I didn't see anything. I was just selling some hot dogs." Typical.
Being a shepherd really sucks, you know? I used to be a software technician, but I got laid off. Now it's just me and the sheep. Or, I guess now it's just me. Just me and this delicious hot dog.
When I got this job, the boss explicitly told me never to take my eyes off the sheep. But what am I supposed to do? Not get a hot dog? I guess he has a point, though. I did lose track of all the sheep.
I don't care if I get fired for losing all those sheep. This hot dog is so worth it.
I am a little curious, though. What ever happened to all those sheep? Maybe we'll never know.
Oh, there they are.
4.01.2009
The Ugly Dolphin
Ever wondered what it'd be like to be a dolphin without a nose?
Approximately 6,000 dolphins do not wonder that. They are familiar with how it feels to be noseless dolphins.
Hopefully that answers any questions you might have.
Approximately 6,000 dolphins do not wonder that. They are familiar with how it feels to be noseless dolphins.
Hopefully that answers any questions you might have.
3.27.2009
Honey
Hey, anybody remember the 19__ sequel to Honey, I Shrunk the Kids, Honey, I Blew Up the Kid? Someone reminded me of it last weekend, and I'm still really upset about how misleading that title is.
Seriously, how hard would it have been to call it, Honey, I Enlarged the Kid or, Honey, the Kid Got a Lot Bigger Somehow, and It's Probably My Fault? Did no one at Disney realize that title might be a problem, or did they really just think that "Blew Up" was probably the best they could do?
When the movie first came out, I remember being really excited about the explosion that was sure to take place. (I have no idea why I was excited about seeing an exploding child; it's probably just that explosions are cool.) This sequel was definitely be better, if only because of the promise that things would blow up.
Now that I know a little bit more about movies, though, I'm pretty sure one where Rick Moranis explodes his child would be VERY boring. The first 20 minutes establish some kind of emotional connection with the characters, then the kid explodes somehow, and the rest of the movie is just about grief interspersed with a few scenes of marriage counseling. And I'm pretty sure that movie sucked when it was called Titanic.
On a side note, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids was a misleading title as well. I think the kids shrunk themselves. Rick Moranis totally didn't need to take responsibility for that. Rather, it should have been called, Honey, Our Idiot Kids Shrunk Themselves, So Be Careful about Mowing the Lawn.
Seriously, how hard would it have been to call it, Honey, I Enlarged the Kid or, Honey, the Kid Got a Lot Bigger Somehow, and It's Probably My Fault? Did no one at Disney realize that title might be a problem, or did they really just think that "Blew Up" was probably the best they could do?
When the movie first came out, I remember being really excited about the explosion that was sure to take place. (I have no idea why I was excited about seeing an exploding child; it's probably just that explosions are cool.) This sequel was definitely be better, if only because of the promise that things would blow up.
Now that I know a little bit more about movies, though, I'm pretty sure one where Rick Moranis explodes his child would be VERY boring. The first 20 minutes establish some kind of emotional connection with the characters, then the kid explodes somehow, and the rest of the movie is just about grief interspersed with a few scenes of marriage counseling. And I'm pretty sure that movie sucked when it was called Titanic.
On a side note, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids was a misleading title as well. I think the kids shrunk themselves. Rick Moranis totally didn't need to take responsibility for that. Rather, it should have been called, Honey, Our Idiot Kids Shrunk Themselves, So Be Careful about Mowing the Lawn.
3.25.2009
The Roman Empire
In the Roman forum, or something, where special Roman folks gather. Actually, there aren't many people gathered there. Just Caesar and some other Roman guy.
CAESAR: What say ye, faithful Tortus?
TORTUS: Well, the suggestion box has been up at the city gates for a week now. I gotta tell ya, Caesar, we got quite a few suggestions.
CAESAR: I trust that you screened them for me.
TORTUS: Pretty much. There were about 50-some that suggested we abolish slavery, so I threw those out.
CAESAR: Haha, the slaves are always good for a laugh.
TORTUS: Indeed!
CAESAR: Were there any other good suggestions?
TORTUS: I wouldn't call them good, per se. Interesting, perhaps.
CAESAR: Such as?
TORTUS: Someone suggested we change your title from "Caesar" to "Bubbles."
CAESAR: Bubbles?
TORTUS: Actually, it's "Bubbles the Dancing Cat," but I shortened it.
CAESAR: Hmm. What do you think about it, Tortus?
TORTUS: I...uh...while I'm not opposed to changing your glorious title, I don't think--
CAESAR: Silence!
TORTUS: (is silent)
CAESAR: Henceforth, we shall be known as Bubbles the Dancing Cat. Anything else?
TORTUS: Yes, there was another suggestion that I liked. It said, "Invent velcro."
CAESAR: What is velcro?
TORTUS: I don't know, but it sounds pretty good.
CAESAR: Very well. It is done.
TORTUS: Thank you, Caesar.
CAESAR: Tortus. Call me Bubbles.
CAESAR: What say ye, faithful Tortus?
TORTUS: Well, the suggestion box has been up at the city gates for a week now. I gotta tell ya, Caesar, we got quite a few suggestions.
CAESAR: I trust that you screened them for me.
TORTUS: Pretty much. There were about 50-some that suggested we abolish slavery, so I threw those out.
CAESAR: Haha, the slaves are always good for a laugh.
TORTUS: Indeed!
CAESAR: Were there any other good suggestions?
TORTUS: I wouldn't call them good, per se. Interesting, perhaps.
CAESAR: Such as?
TORTUS: Someone suggested we change your title from "Caesar" to "Bubbles."
CAESAR: Bubbles?
TORTUS: Actually, it's "Bubbles the Dancing Cat," but I shortened it.
CAESAR: Hmm. What do you think about it, Tortus?
TORTUS: I...uh...while I'm not opposed to changing your glorious title, I don't think--
CAESAR: Silence!
TORTUS: (is silent)
CAESAR: Henceforth, we shall be known as Bubbles the Dancing Cat. Anything else?
TORTUS: Yes, there was another suggestion that I liked. It said, "Invent velcro."
CAESAR: What is velcro?
TORTUS: I don't know, but it sounds pretty good.
CAESAR: Very well. It is done.
TORTUS: Thank you, Caesar.
CAESAR: Tortus. Call me Bubbles.
3.24.2009
Never Gonna Leave You
I think I just discovered why I can't quit blogging.
Don't get me wrong here, little fella, I wasn't thinking about it. You may have thought that I was done, quit-zo, out for good, that the last nail was in the coffin. But something in me just couldn't let this bag go.
Yet even though I couldn't quit, I couldn't keep going either. Where was my inspiration? Where was the joie d'blogging?
At last, I found it. Or more specifically, I found it almost a year ago but had since forgotten about it. Now, as I come across it once again, it pierces my soul and whispers, "Blog, damn you. Blog like you've never blogged before."
Crazy devil-eyed man set to the background of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler, you are my Mona Lisa, my muse, the song of my soul. You have flown into my heart and breathed new life into the part of it that loves to waste time on the Internet. I am forever grateful.
See everybody in July!
Don't get me wrong here, little fella, I wasn't thinking about it. You may have thought that I was done, quit-zo, out for good, that the last nail was in the coffin. But something in me just couldn't let this bag go.
Yet even though I couldn't quit, I couldn't keep going either. Where was my inspiration? Where was the joie d'blogging?
At last, I found it. Or more specifically, I found it almost a year ago but had since forgotten about it. Now, as I come across it once again, it pierces my soul and whispers, "Blog, damn you. Blog like you've never blogged before."
Crazy devil-eyed man set to the background of "Total Eclipse of the Heart" by Bonnie Tyler, you are my Mona Lisa, my muse, the song of my soul. You have flown into my heart and breathed new life into the part of it that loves to waste time on the Internet. I am forever grateful.
See everybody in July!
3.09.2009
Taco Alliteration
I've recently observed that tacos taste much better with alliteration, a la "Taco Tuesday." In most cases alliteration is annoying, a la "Washington Wizards," but in the case of tacos, it greatly increases their deliciousness. So tonight I was pretty sure I'd eat some spaghetti and read a book, since it's Monday.
Thankfully, I'm hanging out with some friends tonight to watch a movie called, "Troll." What a perfectly alliterative partner for tacos! Whether we call it Taco Troll or Troll Tacos makes no difference to me. All I know is that they both begin with the letter T.
Here's a plot outline of the movie, adjusted to be more taco-centric.
Torok is an ancient troll, and he is using the body of Wendy Anne to disguise himself as a taco, in order to turn an apartment building into a taco bar. Wendy's newly-moved family is just settling in, and while her parents, who don't particularly like tacos, suspect nothing, her brother Harry notices an increase in Wendy's taco-cravings instantly. Using an emerald ring, Torok transforms the residents into piles of cheese and salsa to restore his old taco-flavored world in which he once lived in many years ago. We soon discover Torok is the ex-husband of Eunice St. Clair, a resident in the building who was married to Torok long ago before he became his taco-mad self.
Who wouldn't want to see this movie?
Thankfully, I'm hanging out with some friends tonight to watch a movie called, "Troll." What a perfectly alliterative partner for tacos! Whether we call it Taco Troll or Troll Tacos makes no difference to me. All I know is that they both begin with the letter T.
Here's a plot outline of the movie, adjusted to be more taco-centric.
Torok is an ancient troll, and he is using the body of Wendy Anne to disguise himself as a taco, in order to turn an apartment building into a taco bar. Wendy's newly-moved family is just settling in, and while her parents, who don't particularly like tacos, suspect nothing, her brother Harry notices an increase in Wendy's taco-cravings instantly. Using an emerald ring, Torok transforms the residents into piles of cheese and salsa to restore his old taco-flavored world in which he once lived in many years ago. We soon discover Torok is the ex-husband of Eunice St. Clair, a resident in the building who was married to Torok long ago before he became his taco-mad self.
Who wouldn't want to see this movie?
3.06.2009
Parrots
Parrots: are they most annoying creature in existence? Do they actually have vocal cords? Are their beaks totally hollow or just partially hollow? Are the secretly scheming with the dog to steal your favorite shirt, run away and get a job down by the docks?
The answer to all those questions is, most definitely. And I realize the third question there is not a yes or no question, but I don't think it matters.
For years people have loved parrots for their obnoxiously loud noises, their ability to reproduce meaningless phrases, and their penchant to reveal condemning secrets at opportune moments thereby leading to solutions in otherwise unsolvable murder mysteries. And that's all great, but this parrot seriously looks like it's going to tear my head off. It's HUGE. There is no way that bird is shorter than seven feet tall.
And look at the eye. It looks like it just tasted human blood...and it wants more.
The answer to all those questions is, most definitely. And I realize the third question there is not a yes or no question, but I don't think it matters.
For years people have loved parrots for their obnoxiously loud noises, their ability to reproduce meaningless phrases, and their penchant to reveal condemning secrets at opportune moments thereby leading to solutions in otherwise unsolvable murder mysteries. And that's all great, but this parrot seriously looks like it's going to tear my head off. It's HUGE. There is no way that bird is shorter than seven feet tall.
And look at the eye. It looks like it just tasted human blood...and it wants more.
2.27.2009
Better Deals
I started "reading" "the paper" a few months ago. (I put "the paper" in quotes because I haven't read anything in print since 2001. And I put "reading" in quotes because I'm illiterate.) In my reading this morning, I encountered an interesting article documenting yet another detail in the depravity of mankind.
Apparently a woman traded two children to an infertile couple for a pet cockatoo and some cash. $175, to be precise.
This, while absolutely horrifying, is a terrible deal. Two children should be able to draw at least two cockatoos. I mean, it hardly seems an even trade to get one bird for two presumably healthy human beings.
According to the article, the bird was for sale for $1500, so this woman, who originally just wanted to buy the bird, offered the kids for the bird instead, and the $175 for legal fees for the adoption. So many things wrong with this deal. I'll just go through them one by one.
-Breaking this down mathematically, each kid ends up going for about $850. Even in this economy, a five-year-old would have no problem pulling $2000 on the open market.
-If I was a bird owner and reasonably thought someone would buy my bird for $1500, it would be much more profitable for me to sell the bird than to trade it for two items that will end up costing me like a million dollars over the next fifteen years.
-The woman trading these kids wasn't even their mother! GAH! This all happened in Louisiana, and the mother is apparently somewhere in Texas, doing God knows what. She left them in the care of this woman, who apparently has a significant arrest record, so big surprise that the kids were almost traded for a pet bird.
-Why would you want a payoff for legal fees when this deal is so clearly illegal? And if it was just a chance to collect some quick cash, why not ask for more than $175? It's almost as if she thought about how much she could reasonably ask for and still pass it off as a "legal fee," which would officially make this the most thought-out part of the whole deal.
-When the kids were taken into police custody, someone from the sherrif's office commented, "The kids were well-dressed and seemed to be treated good." Grammar issues aside, I assume this means that at least one of them had shoes and that they were wearing shirts under their overalls.
-Who wants a cockatoo anyway?
Seriously, this was all motivated by a cockatoo. One of these:
I don't get it.
Apparently a woman traded two children to an infertile couple for a pet cockatoo and some cash. $175, to be precise.
This, while absolutely horrifying, is a terrible deal. Two children should be able to draw at least two cockatoos. I mean, it hardly seems an even trade to get one bird for two presumably healthy human beings.
According to the article, the bird was for sale for $1500, so this woman, who originally just wanted to buy the bird, offered the kids for the bird instead, and the $175 for legal fees for the adoption. So many things wrong with this deal. I'll just go through them one by one.
-Breaking this down mathematically, each kid ends up going for about $850. Even in this economy, a five-year-old would have no problem pulling $2000 on the open market.
-If I was a bird owner and reasonably thought someone would buy my bird for $1500, it would be much more profitable for me to sell the bird than to trade it for two items that will end up costing me like a million dollars over the next fifteen years.
-The woman trading these kids wasn't even their mother! GAH! This all happened in Louisiana, and the mother is apparently somewhere in Texas, doing God knows what. She left them in the care of this woman, who apparently has a significant arrest record, so big surprise that the kids were almost traded for a pet bird.
-Why would you want a payoff for legal fees when this deal is so clearly illegal? And if it was just a chance to collect some quick cash, why not ask for more than $175? It's almost as if she thought about how much she could reasonably ask for and still pass it off as a "legal fee," which would officially make this the most thought-out part of the whole deal.
-When the kids were taken into police custody, someone from the sherrif's office commented, "The kids were well-dressed and seemed to be treated good." Grammar issues aside, I assume this means that at least one of them had shoes and that they were wearing shirts under their overalls.
-Who wants a cockatoo anyway?
Seriously, this was all motivated by a cockatoo. One of these:
I don't get it.
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