When life gets busy, I get really lazy…

Okay, so it’s been a while.  A real long while.  Really long.  Like, “That’s what she said” long.  It’s just hard, man.  I don’t get to supervise detention anymore which really cuts in to my me-time.  Yet I really doubt you’re interested in my me time. 

During my no-reason-hiatus, I came up with some questions I’ve been dying to ask you, my devoted public.  And by that, I mean people who have given up checking my site and are only back here now because I visited you for you to even remember that I still existed.  So, please take the following test.

1.  What the F is with Duran Duran?  While it is a well-documented fact that Rio is the worst song ever written (I know this news surprises the members of Chumbawumba and Kajagoogoo), did you know that there are people that like The Reflex?  Even some non-criminals.  How did this happen?

2.  Don’t you think the title That’s So Raven  is really racist?  I mean really, who are we kidding.  How is she SO raven?  Aren’t ravens black?  Where’s The Reverend Al on this one? (Sharpton, not Roker)

3.  Would you believe that thanks to our aforementioned bargain TiVo that I have now seen every Law ‘N’ Order SUV possible?  True or False:  After 7 years and Mariska Hargitay’s hair FINALLY grew out from that unfortunate KD Lang thing leading me to realize that she really is pretty friggin’ hott, they cut her hair again just so that I and what I can assume is any number of other people (probably between 3 and 6, in the contiguous 48 only) will watch for the next 7 years. 

4.  Lastly, and this one is for Extra Credit, what the HELL is going on with Carrot Top?  He used to just be a weird looking fire crotch with some stupid props that he thought were funny.  Now he’s pretty much the same but looks like he’s on the ‘roids.  I’m not talking preporation H style roids either.  See for yourself. 

Weird.  Anyway, thanks for coming back.  Hopefully things will pull a Metamucil over here and start to get a bit more regular. 

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Episode 14- “Basement-Thou Art Finished!”

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My wife and I are not exactly handy.  Even though my name conveniently rhymeth, I do not necessarily know my way around a home depot.  I know where it is.  It’s by the Portillo’s.  Someone told me once that there are lots of lesbians there.  I’ve only seen them in movies, so i don’t know if i’d recognize one in the wild.  My grandpa also told me that “the Spitz” are always there waiting in front looking for work.  I guess winning 8 gold medals for swimming isn’t as much a life-long success as we had once thought.   I did not see him there.

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Below, please see a picture of our basement prior to our greasy elbows.

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Now a few hundred bucks and a (circular?) saw I borrowed from my Father-in-Law later, please see the fruits of our labours.

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Hah!  Just kidding.  Like Stephanie Tanner, i kill me sometimes.  It really looks like this.

 

And there you have it.  A little hard work, a dedicated wife, and a little help from  your friend and mine, Mr. Dark Eyes.  [wink]  You should come over some time.  I’ll be the one running around like Gladiator.  The wife will be handling the crudites.

Published in: on 8 July 2007 at 10*19 am  Comments (7)  

Episode 13- “More like Stinko de Gay-o.”

In honor of Cinco de Mayo, (which, happy birthday Callista, if I could figure out your damned e-mail address, I would e-mail, but, I am, first and foremost, a loser) JIM and I decided the most appropriate thing to do would be to go to a Cubs Game.  Unfortunately, the inherent yin v. yang, push v. pull, brown v. board of education of Topeka, KS, of the universe sent us on a colossal ping-pong ride that will go down in history.  (like your mom.)(especially the go down part.)

We decided to meed in Downer’s Grove and take the train to the EL.  I screwed up some plan-making procedures (sorry, K) and we missed our 9h40 express (downtown) train. MINUS 1!  (p.s., Tom Waits effing RULES.)(downtown train.  get it?)  Fortunately, we could run our asses off to catch the 9h45, not-so-express, stop at every effing place including, but not limited to, Berwyn.  (BER-wyn…)(If I used any more parentheses today, I’d be Linkin Park.)  We made the train! PLUS 1!

We settled our sorry asses on the train, and we started to relax.  Our seats WERE bleacher seats (general admission), so we needed to get there early.  “What’s that you said Jim?”  Tickets are still in the car. MINUS 1! We immediately get off at the next stop (heh) and WALK our asses back a whole ENTIRE 3/4 of a mile to the car to retrieve the tickets.  Fortunately, we made the 10h45 and were only going to be a few minutes late since we had left so early originally.  PLUS 1!  Now, here’s a special surprise that all of you who ride the Metra! know well.  We boarded this train to find THIS as our destiny. 

That’s right, the YELLOW TAG OF MIRTH!  This is the piece of cardboard the conductor-dude puts on your seat’s hoo-hah to show that you’ve already paid.  Secret: We had not paid, but someone had, and moved, and left us the glorious tag!  We were spared paying the $3.05 each!  PLUS 1!  This led me to thinking.  What if I could use this special tag everywhere? 

Parking ticket?  Nopes, got this tag!

Tax Evasion?  Dude, this tag gives me freedom?

Chlamydia?  I don’t think so!

We got to the game a little late, after riding the EL with a dude who was rolling his own marijuana cigarette and then smoking it between EL cars, balancing on the connector thing, + 1, some chick spilled dropped her beer on Jim TWICE, -2, we finally got to SIT in the 8th inning when the game got super boring, -1, we left just before everyone else, avoiding the mass exodus, +1, we got on the EL going the wrong direction, -1, and then got assaulted by a herpe-ridden prostitute, +1.  Oh, and the Cubs won. 

I took the yellow tag.  I’m going to go show it to my Parole Officer. 

Published in: on 7 May 2007 at 8*57 am  Comments (9)  

Episode 12- “And You Thought The Plastinated Ones Were Skanky!”

Yesterday, we went to Body Worlds.  (We also went to Pancho Pistola’s, which, was slightly more delicious.)  You know, the one where there are dead people on display?  Like dead guy riding a horse, or dead ballet dancer?  Is it was actually really interesting, and after the first thing or so, it seems really unreal.  You stop thinking about the deadness, really.  They certainly don’t hide anything, though, that’s for sure.  (and by anything, i do mean genitals.  My brother-in-law of course gave ye olde 6th grade response of, “why are you looking?”  So, news flash, I must be a huge gay pervert because I noticed genitals on naked dead people with no skin.)(If he hadn’t said it though, I would’ve said it under my breath to entertain myself anyway.  Just like I do with “That’s what she said” %80 of the time, because my wife doesn’t think it’s funny EVERY SINGLE TIME like I do.)(That’s what she said)

Be that as it may, (for you Jim) we were looking around at the coal miner’s lung and the oro-antral fistulae, I noticed something bothersome.  There was a chick in a dress.  Like a dress dress.  To better illustrate my point, I took a picture.

It seems way less skanky in a picture, I’m sure.  But it was not very covering.  I usually have no problems with skanks, but she was very hoity-toity about the whole thing.  (the first time I’ve ever used ‘hoity-toity’.  opinions?)  I just did not understand why she would come to the museum like that.  Then, as we approached the “Exploded Body” (which, as it turns out, to my dismay, has nothing to do with Carnie Wilson), which included various body parts dangling from strings, I was witness to THIS!

PG-13, n’est-ce pas?  I did not understand why this was happening.  In front of me.  I hate when people are gross in public, especially ones in outfits non-befitting of scientific exhibitions.  As it turns out, it’s one of my things.  So consider yourselves warned, general public.  Watch your behaviour, because you never know when someone who is widely famous on the internet may defame you, ruining your reputation forever! 

Closing thought of the day:  What if Alec Baldwin’s daughter really is a bitch?  Just asking. 

Episode 11- “I’d Like to Thank the Little People”(not midgets)

Much like Bea Arthur’s digestive system, presumably anyway, I have not been very regular lately.  I won’t bore you with the boring boring details, but blah blah busy, etc. 

However, I have not noted yet, that this month marks, [insert triumphant music here], the big anniversary.  Yes you’ve had a whole year of this bullshit.  As you scroll down, you may notice my aforementioned irregularity (25 posts last march, 1 in july), but I’m gonna try dammit.  You just see.   Starting here, I promise my love faithfully. 

Many of you have been instrumental in my ‘success’.  So, I would like to thank you all individually.  And, since there’s no more than a baker’s dozen of you, I can do so. 

Amy, remember that one day you linked me and the world was anew?  Thanks to you and accurately timed photos of Liza Minelli’s Wedding Freakshow, I have had numerous huge days!  (400+ people. huge to me.)(numerous = 2)  10 bucks says she never sees this, guys.

Broad, you are so Indiana to me.  Only not in the toothless hillbilly, too dense to figure out daylight savings time, Crossroads of America way, but instead in the way of people that hate those people and like making jokes about people named “Cock.”

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Miss-TAY, you are a funny person.  And not like Paul Reubens funny, or Star Jones funny.  Miss.T., you do for comedy what Mr.T. did for difference-making.  ity. 

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Leah, it is because of you that I even started this site.  You hear that, rest of the world?  You have her to blame.  Although, you do watch the kid, so it looks like I owe you two thank you’s.  As an aside, everytime you mention La Leche League, I think of a delicious dessert.  (2 s’s right?)

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Dawn, you are also very vital in the existence of this blog.  However, your non-hate for Ohio worries me, as does the fact that you enjoy running.  I suppose we differ there.  I link the two, as in, “I only run when people from Ohio are approaching me.”  And there you have it.

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Chris, Your Haiku(s?) are keen.  You ridicule the famous.  Volcano season.  (that’s why I don’t usually try.)

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Jim, your lack of posting makes even me look consistent.  I thank you for the list.  New idea–let’s post some mad libs, eh?  Also, I owe you $500.  I would say ‘the check is in the mail’, except that it isn’t.  Hopefully it will be sometime soon. 

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Carla, Good luck to you, what with the pregnancy and all.  You are such a wise person.  I didn’t always think so, though.  It wasn’t until I found out that someone liking solo Don Henley automatically qualified them as super-queer in ‘your book’, that I decided you were a genius.   

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Dyck, Your blog, to me, is a Stedman.  It is important that it’s there, and it’s automatically funny, although, when you accidentally see it, it’s always a huge disappointment.  And yes, I’m still talking about the blog.

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And now, as the inappropriately timed music swells up like the genital warts on former teen pop stars, I must say, thank you, and good nite.  May all your dreams come true, and may your life float by gracefully as on the wings of a butterfly.

Published in: on 30 March 2007 at 9*05 am  Comments (14)