Today's aphorism*, and another useless tagline from the past.

"ghandi wouldn't have liked andy either."

"O-Cedar makes your life easier."


*Today's aphorism was contributed by our lovely and talented Kittyspunk. Thank you!




Your yoga stretch for the day.

Sit up straight, knees slightly apart. Clasp your hands together, and put them between your knees. Next, push your shoulders up and begin curling your upper body over to stretch out your spine, then squeeze your elbows into your waist, as if you are cold. Keep curling until you can't curl anymore, comfortably. As you enjoy the stretch, you will hear something similar to the breaking of a stick of chalk, a quick grind and snap in your neck. Oh muther @#$%ing ouch, that really hurts. So nevermind then, don't try this at home alone.





Oh Lordy Lord, Lord Lordy McLordmuffin,

Thank you for the Friday we are having. It's cold, it's gray, and it's beautiful. I can see Sunday from here, but for now, it's a beautiful sight. Long week, short weekend. But I'll take it anyway.

For the record, it's all sad and lonely here around the office without Scottshead. He went to Coachella. That dirty, rotten, stinky bass turd.

But that's ok, I have my newfound fascination with Klaus Nomi to keep me busy. I'm fascinated. No, really. We watched "Urgh! A Music War" last night, and poor dead Klaus was ahead of his time. So far in fact that he could probably never really fit in anywhere in the concept of human time. To me, that's fascinating.

But then again, I was that weird kid who bought the broken toys in the store because I felt sorry no one would buy them.


And finally...


Hmm. I'm not exactly sure why the obesity rate is skyrocketing in America these days.

Maybe it's a mindset that doesn't just celebrate something's arrival every 17 years with a parade or just by observing wistfully, instead we figure out how to make tacos out of them.

"The cicadas are comin' the cicadas are comin', grab a fork and some BUTTER!"

Today's aphorism, and another useless tagline from the past.

"Say what you will about professional killers, they get their 'To Do lists' done."

"Ball Park Franks. They plump when you cook 'em."


Remember, kids. Someone got paid for writing that tagline. Maybe it was Darrin Stevens right after Mr. Tate died and the Associate VPs cleaned house, firing Darrin after 20 years of his blood, sweat and tears, only to replace him with a cheaper, fresher *ad jockey*. Advertising doesn't make you bitter. No, really.

Aw, life is good, and not all advertising is bad for you, as long as you can handle the truth -- so here's a piece of candy that'll rot somebody else's teeth for a change and not yours.

Enjoy!

ps: As always, your aphorism contributions are welcomed here. If I can only remember to check my email. Must... remember..

M&M's are cruelty-free.

Things that make me a frownie-puss:

-- hitting the ground running

-- being asked what is on my plate

-- 004dk.eos.net.FtpError: login error messages

-- hurting someone's feelings. unless i really can't stand them.

-- being allergic to serotonin reuptake inhibitors in this day and age

-- hearing the words "frownie" and "puss" used together by an adult

-- the word "giggly"


Things that make me a giggly-fool:

-- thinking about owning a cheese shop with an adjacent wine bar

-- eating an ice cream cone under the Eiffel Tower

-- being fitter, happier, more productive

-- red, green, yellow and blue M&Ms

-- Christine, for fixing the 004dk.eos.net.FtpError: login error

-- sitting in the middle of 5,000 people singing Weird Al's "Amish Paradise"*

-- sitting in the middle of 5,000 people singing Weird Al's "Fat"**

-- sitting in the middle of 5,000 people singing Weird Al's "Yoda"***


*Sometimes life is good.

**But it's better when it's ***really good.



Today's aphorisms, yesterday's taglines.

Here's a new feature. It's dedicated to that guy at the smalltown university in stickville. He's pretending that he's getting his triple-major-masters in poetry. Maybe you know him. He's been a college student for almost 17 years now. On purpose, he has greasy hair, thick rosy glasses, thin skin and miraculously, a wife. Not so unbelievably, she could probably pick her teeth with his head. He scoffs aloud, perambulates most presumably, as he quotes his own principles in aphorisms, and hopefully if I get a copy of them, you'll find them here. Probably not all 17 college years' worth, but I'll see what I can do.

People fascinate and inspire me. No, really.



Today's aphorism -- for you, for life, for everyday living:

"Everything looks better with rhinestones. Everything."



Today's useless tagline from the past:

"We love to fly, and it shows."





"Ron, it's your mom on the phone!"

Ron: "Oh yeah, and we went to see Weird Al on Saturday..."

Ron's mom: "Oh! That is so exciting!! Didya get any watermelon on ya?"



Say goodnight, Gracie.

How many times can I say I love you, Altoids?

Why? Because they try. I haven't played the game yet but the music is enough for me to be happy.

Enjoy.

Oh, and yes, I do suck for not posting more often like I used to. And for ending a sentence with a preposition. Well, I'll try. But I can only promise to give you links to things like this banana guard and this camel spider. But hopefully, that's why you're coming here in the first place. And for those of you out there Googling your way here in search of "flexy girl pee holes", I have no idea what that is, but I think you need to talk to your prison counselor about your special needs.

I'm just saying.

Oh and heya, Kathy Sue! Congratulations on your art show and sale of paintings! Now -- on to fabric design, chop chop!

For the rest of you out there, I hate people who say "chop chop", too. See? We were meant for each other. I'll be better with posting regularly from now on. No, really.

Fox, Fox, Fox...

If you execs screw up the only good Sunday night tv lineup in America, I will feed my gigantic dog Otis 2-alarm chili for three days, find my way into your houses or your pools and leave him in while you're out making these decisions.

"HELP ME!! I'M SO BEAUUUUUTIFULL!"

I'm a product of my own twisted, mangled, smoking-gun, train-wrecked environment. I tried not to watch. I really did. But it was just like filing slowly past a fatal car accident bad enough to stop 5 o'clock rush hour traffic in Atlanta. I tried as hard as I could not to look. But at the last moment, the very last moment, I turned to stare at the bloodstained sheet on the side of the highway. In less kind and gentle words, I watched "The Swan" on Fox.

What more can I say? If you don't know the premise of this reality show, I'll lift it from the site for you, so you can smolder in endless eternity with me:

THE SWAN offers women the incredible opportunity to undergo physical, mental and emotional transformations with the help of a team of experts. Contestants must go through an intensive “boot camp” of exercise, diet, therapy and inspiration to achieve their goals. Each week feathers will fly as the inevitable pecking order emerges. Those not up to the challenge are sent home. Those who are will go on to compete in a pageant for a chance to become “The Ultimate Swan.”

Aww, that sounds so nice, doesn't it? I think I hear Tinkerbell...

Each contestant has been assigned a panel of specialists -- a coach, therapist, trainer, cosmetic surgeons and a dentist -- who together have designed the perfect individually tailored program for her. The contestants’ work ethic, growth and achievement will be monitored. The final reveal at the end of each episode will be especially dramatic because it will be the first time that contestants will be permitted to see themselves in a mirror during the three-month transformation process. Two women will be featured every week and at the episode’s conclusion, one will go home and one will be selected to move on to the 1st Annual Swan Pageant.

Don't be shy, Fox boys. They downplayed the biggest and best part of the whole transformation: Stripper implants and moose lip injections. Forget therapy, hun. Here's a brand new pair of double D's to turn that frown upside down.

Of course I just had to see how much lower things have sunk since the "The Littlest Groom" so behold, Fox found this show idea stuck to the bottom of his shoe and decided to serve it up steaming hot to you and me. Don't get me wrong: a tiny part of me wanted to see a girl cry so hard that her new nose fell right off. I know who I am, I'll admit that much. I wanted Human Jack'o'lantern. However...

And at the end of the show, the women who've been deprived of a mirror for 3 months end up paraded through a line of their re-creators. As they look upon her new face and body with tears in their eyes, the applause seems to be for the woman, but really, it's for themselves. The curtain is drawn back and the women do the same thing: They clutch their faces and scream "OH MY GOD, I'M SO BEAUUUUUTIFULL!" And then they almost tip over like cows on their high heels, but the tightness of one woman's dress kept her standing til the end.

And now she just looks like The Grinch staring out of a Ho Suit.

Oh well. What do I expect? This is all making Janet Jackson's boob look good. Actually, I have to take that back.

This show is almost as disturbing* as watching a lab rabbit get sprayed in the eye repeatedly with aerosol hairgel. You know, it's for the good of the people. The beautiful people.

I will not be right with this show until they choose to deepen it thoroughly with one of the following options:

(1) The pageant is really not a pageant at all. Instead, the women are loosed into an outdoor arena in which they must fight each other to the death. Thanks to Kenny for this one.

(2) They awake to find they have only one boob implanted, and must live on an island for 3 months in order to win the other boob.

(3) I want a follow-up report show every 6 months, and no one can get a divorce or get a job at a stripjoint by the airport.

(4) I could go on for days here, so anyone out there who'd like to send me an idea, I will post it with credits.


But in times like this, and more times than not, it helps me to ground myself after such a disturbed view like this. To read about simple people with simple lives, and I'm not talking about that show with Paris Hilton and her pitchfork-toting pals either. I mean people who know who they are, people with real conviction, who would never change a thing that would conflict with their personal, moral beliefs. People with less independent thinking going on than mine, in my sad, souless broadcasted environment. But really, why do I care because:

I'M SO BEAUUUUUTIFULLL!!!! DEATH TO THE UGLY, THE POOR AND THE UNFRESH!


*It's almost as disturbing, but since rabbits are inherently innocent and have more self-esteem than the average housewife apparently, then you know where I'll be on Monday nights: "Birds of America" by Lorrie Moore. Something of substance to read as I work my second job at a stripclub near the airport.








Oh I do, too, have a sense of humor. Still. After all the pain.

If you clicked the last link in the above post, make sure you click the News of the Strange slideshow on that page. Now that's the namebrand of weird I smoke. Such as this next one I like to call "Penny for Your Thoughts, and for Your Colon":







Someone, please save this man from himself. Send him some information on Traditional IRAs.

It wouldn't do what I asked -- come to me, triple-battered and deep fried with tater tots on the side. But I've been told it will scratch its butt and Riverdance. See the somewhat amazing Subservient Chicken from Burger King. Burger King? No wonder it's rebellious and confused. I just found out that chicken will show you its nuggets...

Support the arts from afar. Buy stuff online from the Portland Saturday Market.

The Tower of Babel.

Here's some actual, educational babble for you instead of that usual, homegrown variety I fling. You saw that play on words coming a mile away, didn't you? I loathe myself sometimes.

Enjoy!

"Dare To Be Stupid."

So...I got my Weird Al tickets today. Shut up. Can't you see I'm excited? Not because we share a similar hairdo on rainy days, but because I like Weird Al. There. I said it, and I'll say it again. I like Weird Al. And furthermore, I don't care if you're full, just eat it...eat it...get yourself an egg and beat it.

It should be no reflection on regular fans of Al everywhere that I'm just really boring today. I think it's because I sapped my energy taste-testing bridge mixes. We're having an unofficial Bridge Mix-Off comparing local, persistent bridge mixes to find the best tasting bridge mix around. I'm fairly sure these are not Atkins-approved. In fact, that's probably why they are even more attractive these days than ever. "Hi. I'm on the Atkins-approved all-you-can-eat-porkskins diet. Nice to meet you. Shake my hand, I just peed on a stick to test my level of ketosis. When I burp, it sounds like a squealing pig and smells like Animal Farm."

Ah yes, there's the ole mean streak. Not in a sugar-coma just yet.

Back to the bridge mix: The best so far is Brach's*. Fresh, chocolate coating is creamy, with a nice variety of nuts, raisins and unknown jelly bits. It's good enough to serve alone as a sugar-blasting treat, and not something you'd wanna waste on your alcoholic she-relative who's looking for a quick, mid-morning breakfast.

Second in the running so far is Walgreens brand bridge mix. Leave it to the good ole 'greens. Bubble bath, beer and bridge mix, all under one convenient roof. Inexpensive yes, but overflowing with taste-for-the-price. We were very pleased with this discovery since they are close-by and also have the best chocolate covered peanuts this side of DisneyWorld. Don't even ask what that means.

We had high hopes for the bridge mix found at The Peanut Shop down the street, but basically it's just Brach's with Whoppers mixed right in. Nice touch, so they get points for that, but not in the exposed-to-the-open-air-too-long taste category.They should just stick to the nuts, they do them best anyhow. I said "stick to nuts"... snickersnicker. Mmm. Snickers.

I told you I was boring. But hey, be fair, you read this far. Ohhhhhh come here, you know how I like to kid. Aw, I'm sorry...gimme a hug...and some bridge mix...and vodka.


*Good candy, and even better lawyers. Don't sue me for reffing to you. Send bridge mix, send bridge mix, send bridge mix. Can't you see, I'm just a stupid fool in love with your chocolate covered goodness??

The Ultimate Beer Run.

Currently, I'm saving any extra dough for an unguided stumble through the vineyards of Southern France. But someone out there, please o please take this Beer Trip for me and tell me how it goes. Man o man o man. As if anyone needed a better reason to visit Paris. Throw that Adkins-approved diet to the wind, you fools and live life to its fullest. Less filling, tastes great. Carbs, be damned.


Here's some neato little links for you until my brain snaps back from the crushing death-blow known as Daylight Savings Time, thanks to Benjamin Franklin. He had no idea we'd be able to light an entire football field with a portable booklight one day. Don't get me started, those farmers better be growing something tasty, dammit:

Stick Fishin' at Glink

Kid Robot: Me want one of each.

Eugene Mirman. Make sure you click "new by eugene" for video clips. He's one, sick Fig Newton molester.

Elizabeth McGrath: So cute I could just die or kill someone trying.

Hope you can hear this. That reminds me, I need to get my camshaft resurfaced.

Pillows for Heaven.

"Southern Living magazine is yanking its April issue from stands because a recipe for rolls meant to taste like 'pillows from heaven' instead reportedly has caused several explosions, reports ABC News."

Why is this so funny to me? Besides the obvious. I worry about myself sometimes. Maybe because the thought of rolls exploding is just unnervingly funny in a Monty Python, Bugs Bunny, no-one-really-gets-hurt way. It only makes it worse for me going to their site, and there they are with that come-hither look, right there on the homepage next to the cute, benign little unaware bunnies.

See, in my opinion, this is really the only way carbs can be bad for you.