Thursday, May 29, 2008

The good and the bad of blogging

One of the things I hate about blogs...
it actually has nothing to do with the blog itself...but about posting a comment on someone's blog. The dreaded Word Verification. It's supposed to be there to stop spammers and automated systems from commenting and putting crap on your blog. This way you know a human is actually commenting on your blog.
The unfortunate part about it....humans can't usually tell what the heck those letters say. Half the time I give up and just type nonsense, hoping that the next round of letters will be easier to decipher. The other half of the time I decide that my comment isn't worth trying to decipher the letters. So I don't comment. I'm not a robot. I'm not a spammer. But, for the life of me...I can't figure out the word verification.

One of the things I love about blogs...
the links that people use to show blogs of people they know and enjoy. I'm looking at a friend's blog and then I click one of their friend's blogs because I'm nosy or bored or a stalker or something. Cut to: ten minutes later. I'm about 29 blogs away from even remembering how I found the blog I'm reading. But I'm laughing and thinking I want to comment...but then I realize how psychotic it would be. My comment...
"Howdy stranger. Your Aunt Jen has a link to your blog and Aunt Jen is friends with Zack who has a gardener named Phil who has a friend named Joanna who has a daughter named Hilary whose friend Sam's stepdaughter's hairdresser Chloe happened to be married to Aaron back in the 90's (but has since become a lesbian and is life partner's with Molly) and Aaron's sister Penelope had a third grade teacher named Mrs. Krueger who's sister Sally has a dog named Fluffy who has a dog walker named Sunny who hangs out at the coffee shop where my friend Chad works . Anywho, I really enjoyed your post about your hemorrhoids and how they are a hidden monster. I laughed and laughed when you talked about having to carry that small butt pillow around everywhere because sitting was miserable. When you talked about having to use it at the luncheon where you were being honored for your award winning tulips...I laughed so hard that I may have popped a hemorrhoid myself! Thanks for sharing! "

Stalker much? In the end I just read the blogs anonymously and don't comment. And think about how creepy it is that someone they don't know is reading about their life. Then I start hoping that somewhere, somebody started clicking their own friend's blogs and links and wound up reading mine. And either running in fear or giggling just a little bit.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

When infomercials go bad

We know I love infomercials. I surf the tv just looking for an infomercial. Most people change the channel when one comes on. I change the channel looking for infomercials. And, yes, I think I might TiVo one someday. That day hasn't arrived yet, but I am a realist. It's only a matter of time.

I saw part of an infomercial the other day. It's a completely pointless product for me and my life. But I can see that a lot of scrapbookers would love it. It's called the Cricut. Get it? It sounds like cricket but it's spelled with 'cut' in it because when you scrapbook you cut things out?! Get it? Yeah, more marketing geniuses at work.

So, I'm watching a 90 second blurb on everything it can do. And they are showing me these beautiful scrapbooking projects that you can do with it. And for a nanosecond a picture pops up with a scrapbooking container of some sort that says "Food Stamps" on it.

Uh...am I the only one who sees the irony here? I imagine a house with a family in it. Some shmoe who's fallen on hard times and they are now on food stamps. They can't afford food, but the wife says to the husband, "I'd really love to go grocery shopping with these food stamps, but I don't have a really pretty container to put the food stamps in. Drats, I guess we'll have to skip groceries this week."

To which the husband replies, "Well, honey, why don't you go order that Cricut contraption and make a really cool container to hold our food stamps in? They electric bill doesn't have to be paid this month. Really, what's most important is that we order the Cricut."

Cut to a montage of shots-
Wife receives Cricut in the mail, joyously decorates a box to hold the food stamps, goes grocery shopping and pays the cashier from her pretty food stamp box she made with the Cricut...
and the last shot is the family eating at the dinner table with a smile on their face and they turn to the camera and say, "Thanks Cricut!"

Priceless. I better place an order.

Friday, May 23, 2008

ArchuLOSER!

David ArchuLOSER has lost. As most losers do. Poor, poor David. And he didn't just lose by a teeny tiny bit. No, no, he lost by 12 million votes. I was saddened to hear that my own family members voted ten times for Archuloser, but it turns out ten times makes no difference when you're talking about a landslide loss. Oh, it's so sad.

I love American Idol. I do. But I think it might be for my family's best interest if it went off the air. Invariably, my family is divided on who has the best voice/best talent...whatever. It's always a division of the family.

I find that the 'older set' always lean towards the ugly, the boring and those who will not sell many records. I don't know if that's just because when you get older you start to lose your hearing or if you just lose the ability to judge talent. I'm not sure what it is, but it is very hard to watch that happen to them.

One of my own family members implied that the only people we like are the pretty ones. Ummm, duh. Along with the pretty though, we like talent. David Archuloser has mad skillz, no doubt. However, my contention with him is that his performances are boring (as I am sure his album will be as well. ) I guess boring is relative when Amy Grant is what you consider as "hard rock."

A quote from my own brother, after implying that we only enjoy pretty-no talent-celebs.
"Once again I am saddened by a society that dotes on looks rather than carachter and talent."

First, please excuse his mistyping. I think it's part of old age. Second, I find that most people who say that we're too obsessed with good looks say that because they themselves are ugly. A sad but true phenomenon. I've always thought my brother was good looking...but I might have to revisit that assumption.

Thankfully, American Idol is over for now. My family can go back to our peaceful existence until next January. Then the feud begins again! Till then!

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

American Idol...a.k.a. "My Kid's Got Talent!"

Oh, American Idol. It continues to fail me. This season has hurt just as much, if not more than the Katherine Mcphee/Taylor Hicks debacle.
I know everyone calls me a "hater" for not oohing and aaahing over David "Cute as a bug" Archuleta...but, seriously, unless you're a tween or a grandma, there is no excuse for voting for him. There really isn't. It's Taylor Hicks all over again. My worst nightmare. Let me qualify this by saying that I agree with the fact that David Archuleta (aka Donny Osmond Jr.) has talent. He clearly does. He's got mad skillz, dawg. But how is his musical talent relevant to anything other than choirs or musical theater? It's not. Maybe give him 5 years to mature and then I will see if I like his music. Right now, all I can do is fall asleep every time he gets on stage with his babyface and following of tweens and grandmas.
He's being set up for failure. Everyone votes and gives him a heightened sense of fame...then he sells less than 500,000 copies of his album and his record label drops him and he goes through a mid-life identity crisis at the age of 19. Tragic. I've seen it a million times. If you really liked the kid, you'd want him to grow up before he tries it in the musical world.
What am I saying? What am I thinking? Donny Osmond is just as cool now as he ever has been. And I'm sure at least 3, maybe even 4, people outside of Utah knows who he is. That's Archuleta's future. Poor kid.

All of you keep voting for him! Even though none of you will buy his album! Just like you did with Taylor Hicks! Set him up to fail!

Sunday, May 18, 2008

6 more months of crappy service? Sign me up!

Sometimes I wonder why I didn't go into advertising. It seems simple enough. For instance...

I'm watching tv the other day. Yes, I watch tv a lot. Quit judging me. It's not like you have a life either. Don't pretend that you do.

I heard a commercial for Match.com about finding your "soulmate." They say that it's okay to look. And as an added bonus, if you sign up for 6 months of their service and you are not happy with their service and you DO NOT find the man/woman/transgendered individual of your dreams...they'll give you six MORE months free! Just what I have been looking for! Six more months of crappy service from a website that didn't do what it promised in the first place! So, in essence, I could get a year of worthless service for the price of only six months!
Move out of the way...where do I sign up??? Excuse me, but I've got to go waste a couple hundred dollars on not finding me soulmate. Uh, yeah, thanks a lot Match.com. You really get me.

So, yeah, I'm thinking advertising is the way to go. It's basically writing fictional promises that prey on the stupidity of the human population. And, unfortunately, stupidity is a free commodity.

Friday, May 16, 2008

Please don't make me tickle "Elmo"!




********The Following Blog Entry Is Not For The Faint Of Heart, The Elderly, The Seriously Ill Or The Prudish Sorts. I WILL NOT CENSOR THIS POST, IT IS IMPORTANT FOR PEOPLE TO BE AWARE OF THIS. IT IS FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. (and maybe humorous purposes as well)*********


This world never ceases to amaze me. And people never cease to appall me.

Sometimes I wonder where I should go next on vacation. Disneyland? Hershey, PA? Hawaii? Greece??? Nope. None of those. I have found the next "hot spot" in tourism. It is Husavik, Iceland. I know you are a little leery. Just hear me out!

Husavik, Iceland is home to Sigurdur Hjartarson, an odd but inspiring man to many. Sigurdur Hjartarson is the founder of The Icelandic Phallological Museum.

Yes, you read that right. Definition of Phallus: The Penis. Phallological Museum= A Penis museum.
Museums can be boring, stuffy and also pretentious. I'm thinking none of those apply to this museum.
Here is the link to the article. http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080515/od_uk_nm/oukoe_uk_iceland_penismuseum;_ylt=AnIOQC4sHtq4z4BzK4BOfXftiBIF


I giggle when I read about the hamster's "member" that can only be seen with a magnifying glass! I wanted to forward one of the spam emails I get about penis enlargement to every hamster I know! They'd be grateful.

But my absolute favorite part of the article was the information about the 4 homo sapiens who have volunteered to give their penis to the museum when they die. A German, an American, an Icelander and a Briton. Wow, they must be something special, eh?

The Icelandic donor, a 93-year-old from nearby Akureyri, was a womanizer in his youth who thought having his penis in the collection might bring him eternal fame.
But vanity may make him rethink the offer.
"He has mentioned lately that his penis is shrinking as he gets older and he is worried it might not make a proper exhibit."


Did you hear that? That was my mind blowing.

The American, 52-year-old Stan Underwood, supplied a written description of his penis -- which he purportedly nick-named "Elmo" -- for display alongside a life-size plastic mould of the member as well as his pledge to donate it.

All I can say is...please, please don't make me tickle Elmo.


Sunday, May 11, 2008

Is it me?

So, the other day I am at the DMV re-registering my car. Yes, it was the last day of the month. Don't judge me! I'm busy.
First, can I just say that re-registering your vehicle is the biggest rip off? I already registered it once. Nothing has changed. The make and model are still the same. And, yes, it's still the same year. It hasn't managed to morph into some other kind of car. Until they make a hybrid morphing vehicle...I'm going to remain pissy about paying to register my car...again.
Side note- I would be VERY interested in a morphing vehicle. Just an FYI to the car makers out there, since I know they read my blog frequently.

So, I'm in line at the DMV, wondering where that horrible stench is coming from. It smells like a homeless person. Not to stereotype homeless people, as I'm sure some of them smell delightful, but as a general rule, homeless people don't have homes...which means they don't have showers...which means they stink. So, typically, homeless people have an obscene odor. Unless they invested their panhandling funds into a portable shower. Not the best way to use your minimal funds, but who am I to judge? So, I'm sorry if I offended one of the portable shower homeless people...I wasn't talking about you.

But, I digress. I'm standing in line, smelling a stink of a non-portable-showering-homeless-person and trying to identify it when I turn around and immediately find the source. It's a lady and her dog. I don't want to offend the dog, it could have been the lady who stunk so badly and not the dog. I don't think I'll ever know if it was the lady or the dog who stunk more. My bet is on the lady. I'm thinking that if your judgement is off enough for you to think it's appropriate to carry your dog into the DMV then your judgement is probably off enough to think it's appropriate to not shower for a month.

So, I find the stinky source and I'm looking around, befuddled. Did I miss the memo that said it was appropriate to bring animals into places of business? Last I heard...businesses were for PEOPLE. Unless, of course, it's PetsMart. In which case you can bring your kids and your animals in and if any of them poop on the floor, they provide you with wipies to clean it up, judgement free.
If it's truly okay to bring your pets into places of business, I'm wondering why I left my dolphin, Ralph at home. I should've brought him along! He loves a good outing.

So, I turn to the stinky lady holding her stinky dog and I say, "Excuse me, mam, do you realize that the dog you're holding is not actually a person and is therefore not allowed to come into a place of business?"
And the lady, (we'll call her Mona for the sake of continuity. She looked like a Mona, but I don't know what her real name is. She had on a fur coat, gold jewelry and huge eyeglasses), Mona, said, " Well, missy, I did know that. But, Fifi (that was the dog's name) is my seeing eye dog. I am blind and she helps me get around."
To which I responded, "Oh, pardon me Mona, that was so rude and thoughtless of me. I apologize. If Fifi is your seeing eye dog then I most certainly understand. But might I suggest that you get a smelling nose dog as well? Maybe that dog could tell you and Fifi when to shower so the rest of us don't have to smell you?"

I thought I was being helpful. Mona didn't think so. She kicked me in the shin and huffed off. Come to think of it, if she needs a seeing eye dog, how did she know where to kick me? And if Fifi is her seeing eye dog, why was Mona holding her? This story isn't adding up. Something is starting to smell a little fishy...and this time it ain't Mona.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Si Señor


I realize it's been a while since my last post. And apparently, the natives are getting restless.
I've had so much on my mind. I've had a lot to think about as I plan my life and where I want it to go and what I want to accomplish and who I want to be. And it's taken all of my time, energy and intelligence. And, of course, a Life Coach. He is very expensive. His name is Chester Winds. Life coach to the stars. He has helped me realize my full potential and dreams. Not cheap.
Money aside, the good news here is that I have finally decided on a life path. Yes, yes, I have. It's something I've always wanted and it's always been in the back of my mind as something I could definitely see myself doing with my life. And, I've finally decided that I am going to go after my dreams. Some people chase tornadoes. I chase dreams.
I've made a goal and I am moving forward with it. I finally know what I want to be when I grow up. You know how they say that when you follow the correct path for your life that it just "feels right"? Well, it does feel right. Nothing has ever felt more right. Chester has helped me to see the light!
So I am moving forward with my plans to become Tom Selleck's wife.

Chester and I have created a very solid plan. He has prepared me and helped me to recognize that there may be people who want to try and bring me down and tell me not to chase this dream, that it is impossible. But I will not listen to those taunts and the cynicism. Impossible? I think not. Chase the impossible tornado! ...err, dream.

My plan? It's very simple. Tom is now an avocado farmer. He owns an avocado farm in California. When I heard this, I knew it was fate. I love avocados. They are mighty tasty. So, the plan is that I will go to Tom's farm, pose as an illegal immigrant from Mexico and start working the farm. I'll be wearing my scarf to cover my head, dirt on the hands, picking avocados or pruning the avocado tree (...or whatever it is you do when you're "farming" an avocado farm) and Tom will walk by to inspect the work being done. He will then be blown away by my mad avocado farming skills and my witty charm...and voila! He will love me. He will ask me if I'd like to come inside and get out of the sun and I will say, "Si Señor." Of course I will follow him inside, I would follow him to the ends of the earth. We will be in love and we will dine on avocados for the rest of our days. Of course, the rest of his days will be much shorter than the rest of my days as he is much older than I. But, none the less, the rest of his days will be spent with me. Dining on our avocados.

I acknowledge that there are a few minor roadblocks that will be in my way. But I will move them, jump over them or blast them with dynamite. Nothing will stop me now. Minor setbacks:
1. I have no clue where Tom's avocado farm is, other than in California.
2. I don't speak Spanish. I'm hoping the one phrase, "Si Señor" will carry me through a conversation.
3. I'm not an illegal immigrant from Mexico. I actually do have a social security number. And I don't know much about Mexico, other than what I've seen on vacation.
4. I'm not exactly dark skinned. I'm going to have to do some major tanning and use a lot of bronzer.
5. I don't like to be in the hot, shiny, sweaty sun. I also don't like to get dirty. Or have anything to do with farming.
6. Tom is already married.

I see these as minor setbacks. I will chase the dream. Chester would be so proud of me.