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Because they have their senses of proportion:
That is the astoundingly deep Beth, from www.betholicious.net. At least she'll be tanned for that wake! 27 LETTERS AND ANOTHER GOOD SPAMMER NAME Alison Rose (If that is her real name!) may be an idiot who prefers New York to Cali, but she hits home when she writes
Letters do work. A letter's tripartite (at least) structure makes it an awesome vessel. It has no "next episode", no cliffhangers, and unlike a conversation it is not amenable to different 'memories' of what was contained. And since most people don't or can't write them anymore? They always seem like a scented hankerchief sent from a different era. In a good way. ;-) And continuing my list of great spammer names.. I just got one from Brandy Riddle. All I can say is that as much Brandy as I have ever drunk, I have never solved the riddle. But I ain't buying her dumb stock offering. 26 The, Big, Dumb, Mind-crushing Riff Take your Phish-sticks, sensitive woman singers, and hyper-emasculated boy singers (Michael Stipe, as much as I love him) and put them all into the lounge of the Love Boat ("Tonight Only! Liberace on Piano!") and cruise them to the Bermuda Triangle. If they come out alive? Have a sub torpedo them. Nothing beats the big, dumb riff. UFO's "Only You Can Rock Me" has a riff that would make a drunk choke, a president faint like a girl, knock someone off balance, or tip over even the "can't tip over" Segway. You hear it and your spark your lighter up, your joint up, and bang you're freaking head. And if you're no smarter after you hear a big-riff song than you were before you heard it? Maybe some day the fact that you never got any smarter will help you become a Republican President. It worked for Ford and Bush (the lesser). Anyway.. if anyone actually ever reads this thing.. I'd love to get a list of your big-riff songs. Because as long as Limewire works I'll be trying to get the RIAA to sue me. And I've downloaded every show-tune I can think of. 19202122232425: I-PODs, SWIFFERS AND HUMAN PERFECTABILITY When not saving orphanages from evil billionaires, leaping tall piles of laundry in a single bound, or waking up in my own vomit, I ponder the human condition. Which depresses me. But two things have come into my life in the last year that make me accept, at least, the concept of perfectability. The I-pod and the Swiffer. The I-pod is a thing of beauty in form and function. Compact, effective, well integrated to the web (gotta love the intarweb database of CDs that autonames your albums and tracks!). Plus it costs a lot so just the fact that I own one makes me better than people who don't. ;-) And the idea of the playlist as infinitely controllable and mutable? Brilliant, fucking brilliant. Creating a mix is no longer an agonizing process of figuring out what fits "just so" on a CD or tape, rather it is building an environment for life. It allows you to try to balance ideas like "every once in a while I would like to hear a song by the Outlaws" with "I must hear the Dead Boys every day." And you get to struggle towards the perfect mix. Every song lies in the balance and everything is a possibility. The "hootenany" cover of Snoop? Classic, gotta stay. "Beautiful Disaster" by 311? Takes up space for now.. space I have. Someday it will go.. and my playlist will get that much closer to perfect. When it is perfect? I will commit suicide in some way that leaves my ears untouched. You can bury me in an open casket with my I-pod blaring. The Swiffer? It just cleans dust. Sure.. Procter and Gamble won't tell you what's in the thing (proprietary, don't you know) but they are pretty much willing to guarantee that it won't kill your dog. So that's good. Well, if you have a dog. And you can trust Procter and Gamble cause they're way past that Satan thing. Really. But it does pick up dust in nooks and crannies that only Old Nick himself could get into (hey. wait...!). And if that's gonna take a few years of my life for any reason? It's worth it to die clean enough to wear my I-pod into the lack of afterworld. Only if asked to partake in one first. Two things about language.. 1) Why is it that only little girls (and some slightly older ones), gays and old coots use "thank you" at the end of a statement to indicate irony? No.. no.. don't bother to answer. Thank You! 2) Why is awareness of a woman's middle name so dangerous to men? A co-worker walked up to me the other day and asked me, "besides your girlfriend's middle name, do you know the middle name of any other woman?" I had never thought of that question before but immediately knew what it meant, as did the other 5 people I repeated it to. In case you've never been in a relationship I'll translate it for you to mean "Goddamit, if you know her middle name, you must want to f*ck her!" (in that cute way women have of asking questions that are actually statements of accusation). And sure enough, the co-worker was freaked out her boyfriend knew another woman's middle name. Rest assured, a guy wouldn't care if he knew her middle name or not. Though my coworker may be part right. We may still want to "f*ck her!" Cause silly's the only way we know. A friend points me to "swingless golf" which hops onto my top-ten list of stupid things -right between not wearing a seatbelt and voting Republican. Swingless golf should be on a list of "oxymoronic things" but it obviously exists. Just a few notes 1) This would be a stupid idea even for the special olympics. Of course some places do offer wheelchair soccer which seems similarly pointless, so I may just be behind the curve (probably because my wheelchair isn't powered). To regain my hipness, may I suggest wheelchair water-polo? Nah, that's probably mean-spirited. 2) Aforementioned friend claims that one of the "inventors" of this thing teaches at a local community college. If true it's a scathing indictment of the kind of people they hire at community colleges. 3) This opens the field up for a wide of equally stupid things:
Excuse me while I go into my bedroom and practice my "motionless areobics." Sleeping, you might call it. 1516 MAKING FRIENDSHIPS BETTER I've thought a lot about how important my friends are to me, how seriously I take these relationships, and how work and geographical separation make it difficult for me to always be there for them. It's not right. I've had some of these friends for over 30 years now and the joy and support they've brought me has been incalculable. I believe that nothing in life is as important as good friends. Therefore, in order to make my existing friendships stronger and closer, and to make the possibility of new friendships easier, I've decided on a change in lifestyle. I'm outsourcing my friendships. In the future, all my friendships will be handled by "Right Now Technologies" who promise to deliver the "personal touch" that I am often to hurried to deliver. Friendships should immediately see improvements in the following areas: Greater Reliability and Flexibility for Friends Cost Savings More Services Innovation Experience Frees Me To Focus On My Core Competencies
I think this is pretty much a win/win deal and after I sober up and turn off the tv and computer? I'm checking into their girlfriends and family outsourcing programs. 1011121314
Did they actually turf the Sod?
Or die. I’m flexible on this one. Boy Scouts are evil. And I don't care that they exclude gays from their
ranks.. When No, I think the Scouts do very well by gays, whether they let them into the fold(s) or not. The guy who invented the whole thing, Robert Baden-Powell was a tightly closeted gay (His parents virtually guaranteed this by giving him the full name Robert Stephenson Smyth Baden-Powell which would cause, in even the butchest heterosexual classmate, an instant uncontrollable desire to sodomize the swine). And any organization that awards merit badges for basketry, "leather work," and pottery can only be creating a new generation of DINKPBs. Actually, I applaud that because I miss having a certain percentage of gays stuck in the closet. Face it.. we need our Paul Lyndes. But the crap the little monsters do when allowed out of their cages is hideous. Last week I walked by the local lake and two boy scouts were standing by a sign as they tossed bread to ducks. The sign, of course, read "Do not feed ducks or other wildlife." Right behind them, buttons nearly popping on an overstuffed scout shirt was the scout master. Scouts do have a "reading" merit badge (A sign of creeping intellectualism at best- a precursor of latent homosexuality at worst), but apparently it is not much prized. Then there's the damage Boy Scouts do when allowed onto trails. Anyone who has hiked anywhere in the Sierras is familiar with the idea of the "Boy Scout trail." You know, it's that one that isn't a trail? That big vertical cut between switchbacks that Boy Scouts create so that they can slide down them and so rain can wash away hillsides and trails.
Worst, their 50 year old scout-masters (and isn't that a suggestive name?) try to wear the same outfits the kids do. On the other hand, they piss of PETA and I do have to give them credit for that. But not much. If you want your kid to have male role-models and bond with other kids? Get them into a little league or a soccer league. Hell, even tennis camp. At least they'll learn what their balls are for. 123 I think I'm turning Japanese Tenet "quits" and Bush reportedly sees a lawyer about his cowardly involvement in ratting on one of our own spies? Maybe life can be good! Some brilliant lyric by the completely under-rated and long gone Vapors. "The moon is up, last month was May
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May |
their uniforms are
designed the way they are? "We need a kerchief about the neck and
a bit more flair on the buttons. I've got it! We'll give out shiny badges.
And we'll make them wear shorts that look like the ones worn by the cop
on Reno 911" 
Worse,
boy Scouts