Sunday, November 11, 2007

But how do I get it to them?

A great gift idea for all your friends who've recently joined the Witness Protection Program.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Priceless

LOLSecretz: The meeting of two of the internet's most famous memes– PostSecret and LOLcats.

Dear Ronald,

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

MarryOurDaughter.org???--Never mind.

It's a good thing I can type, because I can't seem to get my jaw off the floor to tell anyone about this.

Marry Our Daughter is an introduction service assisting those following the Biblical tradition of arranging marriages for their daughters.

Those who wish to list their Daughters with our site should click on SIGN UP OUR DAUGHTER on our main page for a form to fill out.

Those who wish to propose to a specific Daughter should click on the PROPOSE button on the Daughter’s INFO CARD.


These girls all seem to be between 13 and 18! I tried to sign Máire up anyway (on our parents' behalf) but the damn sign-up link is broken. I hope they fix it soon, so I can cash in. It's the Christian thing to do.

September 13, 2007
Update: Thanks to
Brain for getting to the bottom of this and pointing out that this is, indeed, a hoax. Shame on me for forgetting to check out Snopes.com!

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

In three minutes?


That's easy. The challenge is to find a way that isn't shocking.

Monday, August 20, 2007

I am happy.


Most of my Sweet Readers were right there with me, but I’ll write about it anyway.

Some friends and I went to see Jake Johannsen’s show at Acme Comedy Company on Friday. If you don’t know who he is, just trust that Jake is arguably The Funniest Man On Earth--but if you really want to argue about it I’m not sure that you and I can be friends. If anybody who doesn’t know me reads this it won’t make sense unless I mention that for just the last little while I’ve been humoring myself with a silly, gratifying, trivial, motivating, pointless, eternal, counterproductive, joyous, intermittent, profound, little-schoolgirlish crush on this man. That is, if you consider fourteen years to be just a little while. Don’t worry, it’s completely harmless, and it seems to amuse my friends. A girl's gotta have a hobby, and the rest of my life keeps me too busy and tired to start up a more traditional avocation. I thought the one negative effect was some sensitivity on my husband’s part about the whole thing, but apparently that’s not an issue. Evidence: Hubby didn’t even remember I was going to the show, and neglected to arrange a sitter as promised to watch our boy for the evening. So hey, it’s not hurting anyone--I’m free and clear! Unless Jake himself has been somehow adversely impacted, but I only bother him for a few moments at a time, with an average interval of about seven years. And the occasional inane e-mail. Oh, and some comments on
his myspace page every now and then. But he’s a big boy, and I think he can handle it. If you’re not convinced of the innocuous and beneficial nature of this you’ll have to twist my arm (I dare you!) to force me to expound even more ridiculously on the topic, and believe-you-me I could take up lots of space rationalizing…um, I mean, explaining this. The lady doth protest too goddam frickin’ much already.

Something about the actual show itself should be said here, but there’s no way I could do it justice. You should check out
Jake’s comedy for yourself. We all had, as they say, a blast!

Afterward, we went out to the lobby and I stood in line to buy one of his t-shirts and blather awkwardly at him for a moment. I had no idea my sister
Máire was going to take a picture of us, even though I had asked her to earlier that day, and we had discussed it before dinner, and she sent our friend Shari over to warn me moments beforehand. Okay, I guess I wasn’t thinking too clearly--was it Jake’s proximity? Or the Long Island iced tea? Or, perchance, the rum and Coke? (The beverages were a disappointing attempt at preventative self-medication for the temporary anxiety and spazziness associated with the encounter we’re discussing here.) Anyway, I had the absence of mind to be startled when Jake came around the table and started to put his arm around me. Wha? It took a greater number of microseconds than I care to admit for me to register that he had seen her camera and was merely being a good sport for the requisite Jake-and-fan photo. It must have taken only a couple of seconds for my sis to point her camera and say (and here I must paraphrase because I wasn’t all there), “One…and…two…and…blink…and…now.” But the movie that is my life became so sluggish as she spoke that I swear her voice slid down a complete octave. I couldn’t savor the moment, thinking of nothing but how little I cared for any photo that had been taken of me in the last decade and how-very-much-I would-like-please-god-for-this-one-just-this-one-to-be-different-that’s-not-asking-a-whole-lot-please-please-please. At the flash of the camera, time sped to make up for lost…uh, time. I’m pretty sure I thanked Jake as I scurried away.

The last time I had spoken with him, the recurring phrase in my head was “f***ity f*** f***” for days afterward for me being such a dork, but this time I am strangely calm. I don’t think I would even be dwelling on it if I weren’t being pressured by my Sweet Readers to come up with another blog post. (Apparently, I missed the entire month of July.) Anything to amuse my friends.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Okay, really, wtf?

I just did a post, and I can't see it unless I search for one of the words in it.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Uh-oh. A theme is emerging.


Quick, give me something else to write about!

[Thanks to Ben for telling me how to capture a screen shot. (Are you here on Blogger somewhere, Ben? Leave me a comment!)]

Stop drinking? Have a few drinks? Make up your mind!

Sunday, June 10, 2007

A-drinkin' and a-bloggin'

I've been meaning to post for ever-so-long, and for some reason I've had a bit to drink today, and it seems like I'm getting more done than while completely sober. Don't worry about me; I hardly drink at all anymore. When I do it's usually just one drink, and I'm left wondering if they put any alcohol in it. I should be a weenie when it comes to alcohol, but maybe my college days and stand-up days induced a permanent increase in the hooch-processing liver enzymes -- though I certainly was a lightweight back then. Huh.

And I'm not drinking alone, either. My five-year-old son Matthew is here, though he doesn't have any extra additives in his Diet Pepsi -- just the ones Pepsi-Co puts in. And I'm a happy drunk, much more likely to have a giggle fit or fall asleep rather than yell or hit or cry, so Matthew doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he might like me better this way. This morning he picked up his Pirates of the Caribbean (thank the gods for spell-check) Magic-8-Ball-like thing and, deciding it would grant wishes, asked to have a good mom. WTF?!? He elaborated, when pressed, that he wants a mom that doesn't do boring stuff,* and it would be fine if that mom were me, but that just didn't do boring stuff. In fact, he seems quite content with me in my current state, as he just came over, sat next to me, gave me a hug, and told me he loves me. And I think I'm even more attentive than usual right now, making up for any drinking-in-the-presence-of-my-preschooler guilt going on.

* Boring stuff: Presumably, surfing the internet, watching scary medical shows like House, and not wanting to make yet another box out of paper. (And, yes, I know the footnote is supposed to go at the foot, but who knows where that's going to be?)

Back to getting more done. Rather than catching up on my Stargate episodes, or incessantly probing the internet trying to decide what kind of used car I want (it has to take E85 because I can't afford a hybrid), or playing some silly computer solitaire game, I've emptied, filled, and run the dishwasher, unclogged the tub drain, added salt to the water softener and done three or four other neglected things on my ever-expanding to-do list. Though, after this, I might need another little nip before I tackle the lovely litterboxes. Alcohol inhibits stuff, so it must be inhibiting my don't-do-anything-that-is-important-or-will-improve-my-life neurons.** Note to self: "Experiment with drinking in order to get more done in future." Dammit, another item for my to-do list!

** (I hope you don't mind, but I'm particularly enamored of let's-make-a-really-long-adjective-by-putting-lots-of-words- together-in-what-is-a-probably-very-irritating-especially-to- prescriptivists-way hyphens, even when I'm sober. Deal with it.)

In case you think that sitting at the computer writing all this drivel is another waste of my time, let me relieve you of that misconception. I really need to spend more time on my much-neglected creative artsy side, and at least this is something. If you disagree, shut the hell up. (And if you think that directive is an indication that I am an angry drunk after all, you don't know me and my passive-aggressive tendencies. I'm only passive-aggressive because I seem to have very little capacity to be overtly aggressive. Or even assertive. Or to let anyone know what I want or need at all, even if it wouldn't any difference to them.)

Ahem. What I would like to accomplish is to write at least three minutes of decent stand-up, but I haven't even written 30 seconds of atrocious stuff. Writer's block, you know. Maybe I'll blog something I can adapt. But probably not today. Right now I've got to get a refill on my rum and Jazz Diet Pepsi Black Cherry French Vanilla zero calorie flavored soda (naturally and artificially flavored) and get to those litterboxes. Yee-ha!

More writing later -- perhaps the next time I drink.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007