Diana has recently moved back home and Calypso has opted not to leave just yet. That means we once again have a full house. It's been a bit of a re-adjustment. It's a strange thing to have a house full of alleged adults who have spent most of their lives together but who now have to figure out new ways of relating to each other. Of course we're all on our own schedules and we don't always get to sit down to a meal together but when we do things like this happen. Isaac posed the following questions:
Would
you, armed only with your own bare hands, prefer to fight off 100 duck-sized horses or a single horse-sized duck? Assume in either scenario
that the creatures are intending to kill you.
Cat or dog for dinner? Assume rotisserie preparation.
Chocolate-flavored poop or poop-flavored chocolate? Assume the danger of some god awful infection is eliminated. You may chose which creature provides the poop.
The negotiation of terms regarding each choice was specific and debate around the table was quite vigorous. I mean really, even in a large herd mini horses don't seem all that terrifying to me though Isaac says their ability to bite should not be underestimated. The issue as to whether the cat or dog had been a pet, was feral, or was farmed was also discussed. Various breeds were also considered with regard to taste, ease of preparation, and overall meat yield. There was extensive conversation as to the poop and chocolate issue which resulted in the agreement that the poop was somehow devoid of it's disease-bearing qualities. In retrospect we should have spelled out whether or not the poop-flavoring was all natural or artificial. Such is the dinner conversation a House of Lime when the gang's all here. Apparently some things never change.
If you think that's disgusting, at least we are more productive in our discussions than Congress is in theirs.
Showing posts with label weird. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weird. Show all posts
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Friday, March 08, 2013
This Does Not Make My Top 10 List for Fun Ways to Avoid Going to Work
This morning I was on my way to work when I pulled the car over, called my principal and let her know I would not be in to work because I was not feeling at all well. I went home. Mr. Lime returned from his place of employ and then we went to my doctor's because my heart was galloping along like a Triple Crown winner and driving was exhausting. It was disconcerting to say the least. My doctor indicated that I was not to pass Go or collect $200 but instead I was to hustle myself off to the cardiologist's office. As if I didn't think my pulse was already quickened sufficiently that little extra kick of adrenalin nudged it ever higher such that if my ticker were a thoroughbred a few bucks placed on my little pony would have yielded nicely in lieu of the Monopoly salary.
While sitting in the cardiologist's office gasping for breath and feeling my heart trying to pound out of my chest I gazed around and realized the mean age of my fellow patients was close to double my own. I whispered to Mr. Lime that it was making me feel damned old. His word of comfort was, "But honey, YOU are the hottie in the room." Great! So compared to octogenarians I am hot. Wheeee! In truth it made me laugh and I did need that.
What came next, as I continued to ponder my own mortality I could have done without. A little old lady made her way toward me and invited me to read a little pamphlet she had explaining how I could be sure I was going to heaven when I died. She offered said pamphlet with the words, "We don't know how much time we have left." Thanks, sister. I'm blessed. (insert audible eye roll)
I.kid.you.not.
Seriously, I'm creative but even I can't make this shit up. I was glad Mr. Lime was there to witness it and share the absurdity. He's also the calmer counterpart to my more easily riled personality so he (along with my berzerk heart rate) had a restraining influence on me.
In the end it turns out my heart is just dandy (couldn't be finer, in fact) but it was using rapid fire Morse code to let me know my thyroid is going ape shit. I was given some meds to bring my heart to a normal rate until I can get to an endocrinologist to figure out the wacky thyroid. It is suspected that the stuff I take to prevent migraines may have masked the symptoms of hyperthyroidism for a while.
So how was your Friday?
While sitting in the cardiologist's office gasping for breath and feeling my heart trying to pound out of my chest I gazed around and realized the mean age of my fellow patients was close to double my own. I whispered to Mr. Lime that it was making me feel damned old. His word of comfort was, "But honey, YOU are the hottie in the room." Great! So compared to octogenarians I am hot. Wheeee! In truth it made me laugh and I did need that.
What came next, as I continued to ponder my own mortality I could have done without. A little old lady made her way toward me and invited me to read a little pamphlet she had explaining how I could be sure I was going to heaven when I died. She offered said pamphlet with the words, "We don't know how much time we have left." Thanks, sister. I'm blessed. (insert audible eye roll)
I.kid.you.not.
Seriously, I'm creative but even I can't make this shit up. I was glad Mr. Lime was there to witness it and share the absurdity. He's also the calmer counterpart to my more easily riled personality so he (along with my berzerk heart rate) had a restraining influence on me.
In the end it turns out my heart is just dandy (couldn't be finer, in fact) but it was using rapid fire Morse code to let me know my thyroid is going ape shit. I was given some meds to bring my heart to a normal rate until I can get to an endocrinologist to figure out the wacky thyroid. It is suspected that the stuff I take to prevent migraines may have masked the symptoms of hyperthyroidism for a while.
So how was your Friday?
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
God Save the Squirrel
I've never dreamt of a purple squirrel
but now indeed I've seen one.
But I can truly say for sure
I'd rather see than be one.
You can see it for yourself here. I'm not making this up.
I know they spoke to some biologist trying to get an explanation. They should have just asked me. It's obvious the squirrel has gone punk (even though emo is far more current these days but I suppose the squirrels avoid that look for fear the heavy eyeliner will mistake them for raccoons). I'm quite sure if you look closely you'll find piercings in strange places on that squirrel. I'd be willing to bet the squirrel does his tail in a row of threatening looking spikes. The only reason we aren't seeing the studded collar on the squirrel is that he lost it trying to get out of the trap. And I just know that back among his stash of acorns he's got all the recordings of the Sex Pistols and the Dead Kennedys.
It's rodential rebellion, man! (Which, by the way, would be a cool name for a punk band.)
but now indeed I've seen one.
But I can truly say for sure
I'd rather see than be one.
You can see it for yourself here. I'm not making this up.
I know they spoke to some biologist trying to get an explanation. They should have just asked me. It's obvious the squirrel has gone punk (even though emo is far more current these days but I suppose the squirrels avoid that look for fear the heavy eyeliner will mistake them for raccoons). I'm quite sure if you look closely you'll find piercings in strange places on that squirrel. I'd be willing to bet the squirrel does his tail in a row of threatening looking spikes. The only reason we aren't seeing the studded collar on the squirrel is that he lost it trying to get out of the trap. And I just know that back among his stash of acorns he's got all the recordings of the Sex Pistols and the Dead Kennedys.
It's rodential rebellion, man! (Which, by the way, would be a cool name for a punk band.)
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Slice of Lime-Alter Egos
I have a confession to make.
I have an alter ego.
He's a 12 year old boy named Jeff.
He thinks farts and boogers are funny and likes poop jokes.
He loves Spongebob Squarepants but sometimes calls him Spoogeboob.
He also thinks blowing things up with firecrackers is way fun. What? Not like a car or anything, maybe just a Barbie doll. Cuz it would be fun to launch her into space. (Ok, fine, if you're going to cry about it I'll just take my old G. I. Joe and make it look like he's trying to hump her every time you dress her up.) Or like a garbage can...an old metal one so it would really echo. Man that would rawk!
Sometimes Jeff gets me in trouble like when I am convinced to launch myself from a backyard zipline. Yeah, bad idea.
Not everyone appreciates Jeff so he's not allowed to come out to play very often. But he does have one friend. At work, there's another lady who is really in touch with her inner 12 year old boy. His name is Barry.
You know I felt like crap earlier this week. And last week Barry was on vacation. Today Jeff and Barry were glad to be back together causing all sorts of trouble at work.
Here they are laughing at themselves at lunch. (Insert Beavis & Butthead laughs.....you said "insert," heh, heh heh heh!)
I have an alter ego.
He's a 12 year old boy named Jeff.
He thinks farts and boogers are funny and likes poop jokes.
He loves Spongebob Squarepants but sometimes calls him Spoogeboob.
He also thinks blowing things up with firecrackers is way fun. What? Not like a car or anything, maybe just a Barbie doll. Cuz it would be fun to launch her into space. (Ok, fine, if you're going to cry about it I'll just take my old G. I. Joe and make it look like he's trying to hump her every time you dress her up.) Or like a garbage can...an old metal one so it would really echo. Man that would rawk!
Sometimes Jeff gets me in trouble like when I am convinced to launch myself from a backyard zipline. Yeah, bad idea.
Not everyone appreciates Jeff so he's not allowed to come out to play very often. But he does have one friend. At work, there's another lady who is really in touch with her inner 12 year old boy. His name is Barry.
You know I felt like crap earlier this week. And last week Barry was on vacation. Today Jeff and Barry were glad to be back together causing all sorts of trouble at work.
Here they are laughing at themselves at lunch. (Insert Beavis & Butthead laughs.....you said "insert," heh, heh heh heh!)
Monday, July 25, 2011
Fly on the Wall...Or Maybe a Camouflaging Alien
Here are some recent conversations you might have heard in our house if you'd been one...
Thursday night. Temp is around 100F. I have no interest in cooking over a hot stove + it's payday + we're all in minimal clothing due to the heat and don't feel like making ourselves presentable=take out for dinner.
Mr. Lime: Ok, everybody ready to go?
Calypso: I need to put a bra on first.
Mr. L: Just get in the car. No one cares.
C: But someone might see my nips.
Mr.L: You'll be sitting in the back of a two-door hatchback. No one's going to see anything.
C: The only headlights will be the ones on the front of the car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the car, driving home on the highway from the next town over
Mr. L: (surprised as we pass from dry to wet pavement) Wow, I guess it rained while we were gone....either that or someone washed the roads.
Isaac: (sincerely) They do that?
Mr. L: (incredulous) Really, son? Yeah, ok, we'll get you a job doing that next summer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he puts the DVD for "Predator" in the DVD player.
Mr. L: This is a great movie.
Me: (arching a single eyebrow) Oh, yes, completely plausible.
Mr. L: (as the intro plays) Well, it IS because it's an alien. You can tell because the opening scene is in space.
Me: (pretending to be convinced) Oh of course, that's all I need for suspension of disbelief.
Mr. L: I wonder what made the alien want to come to the Earth in the first place.
Me: You attempting to examine the motivations of an alien doesn't make me more interested in the movie.
Mr. L: Well think about it. Why would it leave space to come here.
Me: Oh I dunno, it wanted take out food I guess.
Mr. L: Nooooo! Predator doesn't EAT its victims. It just collects their spines and skulls.
Me: Ok, so it was adventure tourism and looking for cheap souvenirs.
Mr. L: Now you're getting into it! See that's all I could come up with too!
Me: Please don't interpret this conversation as even remote interest in the movie.
Mr. L: You know this movie has not one but TWO future governors in it, Arnold Schwarzeneggar and Jesse Ventura. Oh and they are both in The Running Man too...another great movie.
Me: Not a selling point, as I don't think either one of them is a good actor. Let's hope they were more skilled in governance. In fact, let's consider the theatrical body of work produced by those who went on to hold high-profile office. Predator...The Running Man...Love Boat, Gopher was either a Senator or US Rep...the Sonny and Cher Show... I mean really, what does it say about politics that people who could parade a lack of skill so publicly later went on to political careers?
Mr. L: You forgot Ronald Reagan.
Me: Bedtime for Bonzo does not strengthen your argument.
Thursday night. Temp is around 100F. I have no interest in cooking over a hot stove + it's payday + we're all in minimal clothing due to the heat and don't feel like making ourselves presentable=take out for dinner.
Mr. Lime: Ok, everybody ready to go?
Calypso: I need to put a bra on first.
Mr. L: Just get in the car. No one cares.
C: But someone might see my nips.
Mr.L: You'll be sitting in the back of a two-door hatchback. No one's going to see anything.
C: The only headlights will be the ones on the front of the car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the car, driving home on the highway from the next town over
Mr. L: (surprised as we pass from dry to wet pavement) Wow, I guess it rained while we were gone....either that or someone washed the roads.
Isaac: (sincerely) They do that?
Mr. L: (incredulous) Really, son? Yeah, ok, we'll get you a job doing that next summer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As he puts the DVD for "Predator" in the DVD player.
Mr. L: This is a great movie.
Me: (arching a single eyebrow) Oh, yes, completely plausible.
Mr. L: (as the intro plays) Well, it IS because it's an alien. You can tell because the opening scene is in space.
Me: (pretending to be convinced) Oh of course, that's all I need for suspension of disbelief.
Mr. L: I wonder what made the alien want to come to the Earth in the first place.
Me: You attempting to examine the motivations of an alien doesn't make me more interested in the movie.
Mr. L: Well think about it. Why would it leave space to come here.
Me: Oh I dunno, it wanted take out food I guess.
Mr. L: Nooooo! Predator doesn't EAT its victims. It just collects their spines and skulls.
Me: Ok, so it was adventure tourism and looking for cheap souvenirs.
Mr. L: Now you're getting into it! See that's all I could come up with too!
Me: Please don't interpret this conversation as even remote interest in the movie.
Mr. L: You know this movie has not one but TWO future governors in it, Arnold Schwarzeneggar and Jesse Ventura. Oh and they are both in The Running Man too...another great movie.
Me: Not a selling point, as I don't think either one of them is a good actor. Let's hope they were more skilled in governance. In fact, let's consider the theatrical body of work produced by those who went on to hold high-profile office. Predator...The Running Man...Love Boat, Gopher was either a Senator or US Rep...the Sonny and Cher Show... I mean really, what does it say about politics that people who could parade a lack of skill so publicly later went on to political careers?
Mr. L: You forgot Ronald Reagan.
Me: Bedtime for Bonzo does not strengthen your argument.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
Overheard at Work
A couple recent snippets...
I have a particular coworker, TherapyGirl who has some rather fussy eating habits. She doesn't like strawberries or blueberries because they have itty bitty seeds, so you know raspberries are right out. She won't eat caramel because she doesn't like how it coats her mouth. She detests trail mix because all the ingredients touch each other. She likes all the individual components of nuts, dried fruits, seeds, chocolate bits. She just hates them mixed. Ditto for other mixes like Chex Mix even though , again, she likes all the ingredients.
She and MassageGirl like to send friendly zingers back and forth about their respective foibles. The most recent exchange that cracked me up went like this.
TG: I can't cut my apple with a plastic knife! Where's my good knife?
MG: Why do you need to cut it? Just bite into it.
TG: I don't like to bite into apples. I never know what to do with my upper lip.
MG: Gets juice and stuff in your moustache, huh?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later on in the same day a patient came in and shared a bit of wisdom with us. "Life is like a jar of jalapeno peppers. What you do today may burn your ass tomorrow."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now it's your turn to share.
What weird food habits do you have?
What food is life like in your opinion? And no, you may not say it's like a box of chocolates.
I have a particular coworker, TherapyGirl who has some rather fussy eating habits. She doesn't like strawberries or blueberries because they have itty bitty seeds, so you know raspberries are right out. She won't eat caramel because she doesn't like how it coats her mouth. She detests trail mix because all the ingredients touch each other. She likes all the individual components of nuts, dried fruits, seeds, chocolate bits. She just hates them mixed. Ditto for other mixes like Chex Mix even though , again, she likes all the ingredients.
She and MassageGirl like to send friendly zingers back and forth about their respective foibles. The most recent exchange that cracked me up went like this.
TG: I can't cut my apple with a plastic knife! Where's my good knife?
MG: Why do you need to cut it? Just bite into it.
TG: I don't like to bite into apples. I never know what to do with my upper lip.
MG: Gets juice and stuff in your moustache, huh?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later on in the same day a patient came in and shared a bit of wisdom with us. "Life is like a jar of jalapeno peppers. What you do today may burn your ass tomorrow."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now it's your turn to share.
What weird food habits do you have?
What food is life like in your opinion? And no, you may not say it's like a box of chocolates.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Peckish or Peckered?
Some of you have asked for updates on the Hamster brood in the house. So far it seems the babies have all survived. The adolescent hysteria and shrieking rodent sounds I heard over the phone appeared to have been greatly exaggerated. It seems the hamster mother was merely eating the afterbirth and moving the babies around. I still intend NOT to be the primary caregiver for these critters. Among my blog readers I have those who are sensitive toward the rodents and those who are sensitive toward me. I still love those of you advocating for the rats.
My family refers to my blog pals as Freaks in the Box. It's a term coined by Logo's husband but adopted enthusiastically by my crew. I must say there are times when the freak level astounds even me....but proving my own freakiness...I like it!
Case in point, Hilary seems like such a lovely, artistic, mild-mannered, kind, and caring blogger, and she is indeed all of these thing, as demonstrated publicly by her wonderful blog as well as encouraging words regarding Calyspo she took the time to email me. But let me tell ya, the gal can fly her freak flag high when she thinks it will cheer up a person who is feeling frustrated or burnt out. Don't believe me? Read this link she emailed me. Really. Go read it now and come back. I'll wait. Just don't drink anything while reading it. I won't be responsible for you spewing your beverage on your monitor.
As I perused my email, I also found the images below forwarded to me by Cricket, via Suldog. If you happened to read through my comments you may have seen Cricket's suggested recipe for Curried Hamster. This is all just deliciously demented.
Oh, and I have to thank you, Hilary and Cricket, for basically creating my post tonight and Suldog for helping them pass things along...and I'd like to thank Diana for providing rich blog fodder...the creators of Photoshop...my mother for not eating me when I was young...and the academy of blog arts and freakiness.
My family refers to my blog pals as Freaks in the Box. It's a term coined by Logo's husband but adopted enthusiastically by my crew. I must say there are times when the freak level astounds even me....but proving my own freakiness...I like it!
Case in point, Hilary seems like such a lovely, artistic, mild-mannered, kind, and caring blogger, and she is indeed all of these thing, as demonstrated publicly by her wonderful blog as well as encouraging words regarding Calyspo she took the time to email me. But let me tell ya, the gal can fly her freak flag high when she thinks it will cheer up a person who is feeling frustrated or burnt out. Don't believe me? Read this link she emailed me. Really. Go read it now and come back. I'll wait. Just don't drink anything while reading it. I won't be responsible for you spewing your beverage on your monitor.
As I perused my email, I also found the images below forwarded to me by Cricket, via Suldog. If you happened to read through my comments you may have seen Cricket's suggested recipe for Curried Hamster. This is all just deliciously demented.
Oh, and I have to thank you, Hilary and Cricket, for basically creating my post tonight and Suldog for helping them pass things along...and I'd like to thank Diana for providing rich blog fodder...the creators of Photoshop...my mother for not eating me when I was young...and the academy of blog arts and freakiness.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
The Crafty Lady Retires....For Now
Every year for the last I dunno how many years I've organized the crafts for the VBS program at our church. Long time readers may recall how some of my plans have been somewhat ambitious or skewed or just outright jokes. Some have just amazed me to watch them unfold. Well, this year since I have a job I was only going to be able to be there part of the time. Then it became apparent I wouldn't be there any of the time due to covering for a coworker who is on vacation. So it seems there will be no crafty hijinx for me this summer. This time of year though I do get the itch for arts & crafts mayhem though so even though there's a whole site devoted to the weird or awful things found on Etsy.com I was doing periodic posts like that long before others capitalized on it (if only I'd thought to make a whole website on such mockery I might have a few more bucks in my pocket today...).
Let's see, I could have had the kids make Maniacal Mutant Muskrats. What mother wouldn't be completely charmed to have this sitting on the mantle so she could proudly display her child's handiwork. I think this is what happens when you listen to too much of The Captain and Tenille. I dunno if the concept or the expression on the muskrat's face is more disturbing.
Too gruesome for the kiddies? Hhhmm, ok. How about the Loch Ness Monster Toilet Decal? Sure you could decorate your bathroom with a seashore motif or rubber duckies or some other boring theme that's been done to death. Why not conjure up images of some monster lurking in the inky depths of your plumbing though. So much more soothing, dontcha think? Either that or it will scare the crap out of folks, which could be helpful in cases of constipation.
We're always being encouraged to stop and smell the flowers. Well, now they can return the favor for the low, low price of $375.00. What a bargain! I think we should have one for every room in the house and a few for the garden. Ok, someone turn that thing around now. I don't like when the flowers stare at me.
All I can say about the maker of the Plush Prick Cushion is the maker has some MAJOR issues with men and violent tendencies. I'm betting she doesn't get too many dates. I'm wincing on behalf of all the guys out there. (Well, unless you're into that sort of thing, but if you are I really don't want to know about it.) Seriously, lady. Get some help!
And just to demonstrate my own level of weirdness (as if the rest of this post hasn't) here is something I actually understand, Owl Pellets. I think Etsy is probably not the best place for selling these but in the past I have dissected them with Isaac during a nature program on raptors. They are the stuff owls can't digest so they hork it back up. The fun in dissecting them is finding itty bitty rodent and bird skeletons inside. The most exciting thing was finding a skull. No, I'm not kidding. We actually got excited about that sort of thing. Hey, don't be hatin'! It's educational and Issac and I have fond memories of counting mouse bones together.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
It's Beginning to Look a Bit Disturbing
Christmas gets weirder and weirder every year. I was in a bookstore the other day and I found this Charlie Brown Christmas kit. Is it me or does the very notion of this run contrary to the whole point of that particular Christmas special?
I've you've ever visited the Cake Wrecks site you've seen some truly horrific excuses for professionally decorated cakes. This week I found examples in my own town. All three of these were from the same bakery. I warn you, this is not for the weak of heart...or stomach.
Rudolph the Moldy Moustached Icing Blob anyone? No takers? No wonder. Even the cake looks revolted by itself.
How about this charming cake?
You're a foul one, Mr. Wreck.
You're a nasty wasty cake.
You're as pretty as some roadkill, you're as yummy as it too.
You're a slimy icky pile of green and red poo.
Lest we think the wrecks are limited to full-sized cake allow me to present some disastrous donuts. I'm not sure what is more upsetting, the snow white faces, the leaves for noses, the oddly swirly "hair," or the skewed smiles indicating a general sense of nausea.
Ok, I have poked fun at the bizarre ideas others have made available for Christmas, it's time to turn the tables on myself. Our office had the staff Christmas party this week. I presented this cushy handmade pillow to one of my coworkers who is known for laying her head on the ample bosom of another coworker and remarking on how comfortable a place it is to rest her head. I figure now she has a set of hooters to lay on any time she needs it.
Yes, I really made this and really gave it as a gift to a coworker in a place where I've only been working for about 3 months. I am just that twisted. Apparently, my coworkers are equally twisted. They thought it was fantastic.
Yeah, yeah, next you'll find the pillow on Regretsy.com. Just remember I've done an annual skewering of Etsy crafts just in time for various holidays for the past couple of years.
Here's my evidence.
Last minute Valentine gifts
Weird Gifts
Creativity Gone Awry
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Weird News Wednesday-Cats in Control
This week I found an article publishing the results of a study which says researchers have confirmed that cats manipulate their owners. I've known enough cats in my life time to be pretty sure of this fact without needing scientific research to confirm it. I'm betting it was all set up by a cat owner who was manipulated by his pet who really wanted a more constant flow of tuna.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Food Weirdness
Last week several of you seemed to enjoy the Love it or Hate it post. Way back in January of 2007 I also posted a Fabulously Weird and Entirely Original Food Meme, in case you're interested. Today I'll share some more of my own food related weirdness.
1. When I was a preschooler my parents let me get away with eating nothing but hot dogs and buttered noodles every night for dinner...for...a...YEAR! Now, if you know my parents this is so far outside what would be considered standard operating procedure it's inconceivable. I think it needs to be chalked up to me being the first born and them trying to be modern, liberal parents. It took them a year to realize that perhaps their dear little Lime might wind up with the arteries of an elderly heart patient before she entered kindergarten if they kept tolerating that nonsense. I think I also helped or hurt my own cause (depending upon your perspective) when I decided to stop eating the ENDS of the hot dogs because I didn't like the way they looked all pinched off and puckered. That put them over the edge and ended my hot dog diet.
2. Since I consumed my lifetime allotment of hot dogs before I went to kindergarten I really don't find them very appealing anymore but if I am going to eat one I want it grilled until the skin is black, then put some onions and ketchup on it, maybe some cheese.
3. Although I was expected to eat a wider range of food than hot dogs and buttered noodles I continued to be very picky. At one point my mother told me how when she was a girl she covered whatever food she didn't like in mashed potatoes. I thought that sounded pretty awful but said drowning offending foods in applesauce would be ok with me. Now that's not too bad to most people if you're talking about not liking pork chops or something of that ilk. I didn't like spaghetti when I was small. Yes, I'd have a pile of spaghetti, with sauce on it, covered in applesauce. I didn't like sloppy joes either so I ate the bread alone put the sauced up meat on my plate and dumped applesauce over it. Those are just 2 of the more gruesome food pictures. My mother carried a jar of the stuff wherever we went. Just so we are clear, I no longer smother a plate of food in applesauce but I do still enjoy a bowl of it. My own dear limelets are so spoiled they will only tolerate jarred applesauce if they are sick with some stomach bug. Otherwise they expect warm homemade applesauce.
4. Now we move on to the weirdnesses that have continued in my life. You know I hate mayonnaise, REALLY hate it. I do not ever put it on a sandwich. Some people have tried to convert me to the idea of using mustard or butter on sandwiches instead. No thank you. I like my sandwiches dry, unless I am having a hoagie. (No, they are not subs or heros. I grew up outside of Philadelphia. All sandwiches on long, hard rolls are h-o-a-g-i-e-s. You may call them grinders if they have been toasted in an oven. Otherwise they are hoagies. The required condiments on a hoagie are oil and vinegar.)
My grandparents tried for years to convince me of the merit of mayo, mustard, or butter. Every Sunday after church I'd have lunch with them. We had a ritual I came to regard as just an extension of the church service for them as we had our antiphonal exchange.
Girl, you want some mayonnaise for that sandwich?
No thank you.
Some mustard?
No thank you.
How about some butter?
No thank you, I like my sandwiches dry.
Girl, I don't know HOW on earth you can choke down a dry sandwich.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, sandwich without mayo, mustard, or butter.
Then we moved on to the discussion over rice pudding with raisins. I insisted the raisins were dead flies. My grandfather insisted they were dried up boogers. In retrospect, I guess he would know since he was the one who made the rice pudding.
5. Although I find mayo repulsive I do like tuna salad. I just make mine with Italian dressing instead of mayo. I use sour cream for chicken salad. There is no way to redeem egg salad since I despise both mayo AND the yolks of hard boiled eggs. I also think egg salad looks like someone with a really bad sinus infection sneezed on a plate.
Now it's your turn to share some of your food related weirdness with me.
1. When I was a preschooler my parents let me get away with eating nothing but hot dogs and buttered noodles every night for dinner...for...a...YEAR! Now, if you know my parents this is so far outside what would be considered standard operating procedure it's inconceivable. I think it needs to be chalked up to me being the first born and them trying to be modern, liberal parents. It took them a year to realize that perhaps their dear little Lime might wind up with the arteries of an elderly heart patient before she entered kindergarten if they kept tolerating that nonsense. I think I also helped or hurt my own cause (depending upon your perspective) when I decided to stop eating the ENDS of the hot dogs because I didn't like the way they looked all pinched off and puckered. That put them over the edge and ended my hot dog diet.
2. Since I consumed my lifetime allotment of hot dogs before I went to kindergarten I really don't find them very appealing anymore but if I am going to eat one I want it grilled until the skin is black, then put some onions and ketchup on it, maybe some cheese.
3. Although I was expected to eat a wider range of food than hot dogs and buttered noodles I continued to be very picky. At one point my mother told me how when she was a girl she covered whatever food she didn't like in mashed potatoes. I thought that sounded pretty awful but said drowning offending foods in applesauce would be ok with me. Now that's not too bad to most people if you're talking about not liking pork chops or something of that ilk. I didn't like spaghetti when I was small. Yes, I'd have a pile of spaghetti, with sauce on it, covered in applesauce. I didn't like sloppy joes either so I ate the bread alone put the sauced up meat on my plate and dumped applesauce over it. Those are just 2 of the more gruesome food pictures. My mother carried a jar of the stuff wherever we went. Just so we are clear, I no longer smother a plate of food in applesauce but I do still enjoy a bowl of it. My own dear limelets are so spoiled they will only tolerate jarred applesauce if they are sick with some stomach bug. Otherwise they expect warm homemade applesauce.
4. Now we move on to the weirdnesses that have continued in my life. You know I hate mayonnaise, REALLY hate it. I do not ever put it on a sandwich. Some people have tried to convert me to the idea of using mustard or butter on sandwiches instead. No thank you. I like my sandwiches dry, unless I am having a hoagie. (No, they are not subs or heros. I grew up outside of Philadelphia. All sandwiches on long, hard rolls are h-o-a-g-i-e-s. You may call them grinders if they have been toasted in an oven. Otherwise they are hoagies. The required condiments on a hoagie are oil and vinegar.)
My grandparents tried for years to convince me of the merit of mayo, mustard, or butter. Every Sunday after church I'd have lunch with them. We had a ritual I came to regard as just an extension of the church service for them as we had our antiphonal exchange.
Girl, you want some mayonnaise for that sandwich?
No thank you.
Some mustard?
No thank you.
How about some butter?
No thank you, I like my sandwiches dry.
Girl, I don't know HOW on earth you can choke down a dry sandwich.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, sandwich without mayo, mustard, or butter.
Then we moved on to the discussion over rice pudding with raisins. I insisted the raisins were dead flies. My grandfather insisted they were dried up boogers. In retrospect, I guess he would know since he was the one who made the rice pudding.
5. Although I find mayo repulsive I do like tuna salad. I just make mine with Italian dressing instead of mayo. I use sour cream for chicken salad. There is no way to redeem egg salad since I despise both mayo AND the yolks of hard boiled eggs. I also think egg salad looks like someone with a really bad sinus infection sneezed on a plate.
Now it's your turn to share some of your food related weirdness with me.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Lime's Last Minute Valentine Gift Giving Guide.
Forget about chocolates, cards, and roses. Everyone is doing that. Do you want to be truly original this Valentine's Day? Let me share some fabulous gifts you could bestow upon that special someone. Everything here is for sale right on Etsy.com.
Here we have the Bright Yellow Banana Blanket, which is labeled "mature." Later the maker refers to is as a Cock Cozy sized to fit up to 8 inches and stretching to accommodate various girths. The knitter also apologizes for the potential tobacco smell this item may carry but speculates if you are ordering such a thing that may be the least of your worries. This unique item can be given by the thoughtful woman in Arctic climes wanting to make sure her significant other's tender bits are kept warm. Alternately it makes an attractive cover for the toys belonging to the unattached modern woman.
For the gentleman wanting to give his sweetheart jewelry but unable to afford diamonds here's a seriously creepy opportunity. These disturbing Arm Earrings will also appeal to the ecologically and socially conscious since their creator indicates she made the earrings to use of leftover parts from some other upsetting project. Plus, there's no worry about gems in jewelry being used to fund horrific wars using child soldiers in third World countries. You can wear these body parts proudly knowing you haven't contributed to anyone else loosing their arms in war.
Next we have an item which, according to the seller, is great for men who can't grown their own moustache or women who want to know how the other half lives. We are also told this Moustache Disguise is for the young at heart but not suitable for those under 14. I can't imagine why on earth that would be but I do agree they are far more potentially upsetting than a PG-13 movie.
Of course, if finances are too tight to afford any of these lovely suggestions you can just allow the bird on this Magnet to inspire you in your gift giving. Actually, I quite like these magnets. I think they are an amusingly snarky avian version of lolcats.
Here we have the Bright Yellow Banana Blanket, which is labeled "mature." Later the maker refers to is as a Cock Cozy sized to fit up to 8 inches and stretching to accommodate various girths. The knitter also apologizes for the potential tobacco smell this item may carry but speculates if you are ordering such a thing that may be the least of your worries. This unique item can be given by the thoughtful woman in Arctic climes wanting to make sure her significant other's tender bits are kept warm. Alternately it makes an attractive cover for the toys belonging to the unattached modern woman.
For the gentleman wanting to give his sweetheart jewelry but unable to afford diamonds here's a seriously creepy opportunity. These disturbing Arm Earrings will also appeal to the ecologically and socially conscious since their creator indicates she made the earrings to use of leftover parts from some other upsetting project. Plus, there's no worry about gems in jewelry being used to fund horrific wars using child soldiers in third World countries. You can wear these body parts proudly knowing you haven't contributed to anyone else loosing their arms in war.
Next we have an item which, according to the seller, is great for men who can't grown their own moustache or women who want to know how the other half lives. We are also told this Moustache Disguise is for the young at heart but not suitable for those under 14. I can't imagine why on earth that would be but I do agree they are far more potentially upsetting than a PG-13 movie.
Of course, if finances are too tight to afford any of these lovely suggestions you can just allow the bird on this Magnet to inspire you in your gift giving. Actually, I quite like these magnets. I think they are an amusingly snarky avian version of lolcats.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Interview Weirdness
A little over a week ago I was interviewed by Ella. In return I offered to interview others. Several brave people risked their very sanity to answer whatever 5 interview questions I threw at them. I gave them all original questions but all of them had one question in common. What they didn't know is that after I gave the question I decided to make it a contest of sorts. Today I am presenting you all with the responses to the common question and asking you to vote for the answer you like best. The winner will be awarded a pair of original tie-dyed socks.
Onto the question...
An evil mastermind is going to destroy the world unless you can stop him. You are armed with a spoon, a rubber chicken, a can of aquanet, and a bucket of peanuts. What is your plan?
Craver was the first to offer a solution:
Oh, that's too easy!!! Since evil masterminds can't resist monologues, I wait until he begins, then I cause a distraction by flipping the bird (the chicken of course!) and while everyone is momentarily taken aback, I use the spoon to flick peanuts to wipe out his minions, making sure I aim carefully, as I intend to eat whatever's left, then spray the aquanet in his face, emptying the entire contents. Overturning the empty peanut bucket on his head, I bang away with the empty aquanet canister until he concedes his defeat.
Luckily the evil mastermind is an elephant with a penchant for Winger and all things 80s hair metal. Ergo, I lure him into my trap with the can of Aquanet and peanuts. Then I would distract him by throwing the spoon past his eyes, allowing me to shove the rubber chicken up his ass. Then whenever he would pass gas, this would inflate the chicken, causing him to retreat back into his jungle from the shame.
OK, here’s what I’d do. I’d invite him over for dinner. I’d grind up the peanuts and put them into everything, and hope he has a severe allergy. If that doesn’t work, after dinner I’ll ask him if he wants to have sex with me.
(I’m as hetero as they come [no pun intended] but if the fate of the world is at stake, I’m willing to make some sacrifices.)
If the shock of me asking him for sex doesn’t kill him, I have another plan. Before he arrives for dinner, I will have cut a hole in the rubber chicken and sprayed the carcass full of the Aquanet, then patched it up. When he strips naked, I’ll jam the rubber chicken up his ass, light a match, and throw it at him. That ought to do the trick. Now, you're probably wondering how I would survive the resultant blast. I'll be hiding behind the spoon. You might say that's ridiculous, but you didn't specify how big the spoon had to be.
If he doesn't have a peanut allergy, or isn't interested in gay sex, I'll just whack him over the head with the really big spoon. As a matter of fact, I should probably do that first. I might not feel like cooking that night (although missing out on the chance to shove a rubber chicken up someone's butt might leave me sad. It's not often you get that sort of an opportunity.)
Cooper conjured up some interesting images with his plan, which thankfully did not involve the chicken being inserted in anyone.
Spray my entire naked body with aquanet and apply the peanuts until I am covered from head to toe. Blow up the rubber chicken and jam the handle of the spoon down it’s throat. While the mastermind is distracted by the peanut covered body, I squeeze the rubber chicken, shooting the spoon with bullet like speed so that it lodges in the forehead of a portrait of the mastermind’s pet cow, Cerberus, thus reducing the twisted genius to a quivering mass of remorse.
Next Ms. Solitaire shared a plan with a uniquely feminine twist.
First, I’ll start by training a herd of Elephants with the peanuts, they will be trained to trample what ever I designate. Designation of the stampede is by using the spoon to slingshot the rubber chicken at the evil mastermind. I’ll use the aquanet to make sure my hair looks perfect after the elephants and the slingshotting for the press and photo ops!
APJ followed with a plan that is to serve as the plot for her next show.
This is my 2010 Rogue Show, starring Apj, Lime and Solitaire. The evil Princess Solitaire has not only taken over the Rogue, but has her sights on the world as well. And if the world won't bow to her will.... But never fear! APj and Lime know of her rubber chicken and peanuts fetish (did she say "peanus"?) and are not afraid to throw peanuts her way (did she really say "peanus?")! And if all else fails, APj and Lime have the Spoon of Swoon, which always reduces the Princess to a puddle.
yes, yes, I know - I didn't use the Aquanet. Hey -- you gotta have something for the sequel, right?
Next, Barman took a shot at the evil mastermind.
It turns out that in one of Dr. Doofenshmirtz past professions we a stand up comic. I found this out about a year ago when, as fate would have it I bumped into Dr D bellied up to the bar. He was about to leave but I thought it would be a shame not to see what his story was so I slipped the waitress a fin to set a bucket of peanuts next to where I was sitting. Dr D could not help himself as he reached in an picked up a few peanuts. That lead to a few more peanuts and I capitalized on the moment and bought him a drink. It was a wild night but I found out enough to know Dr D was an inept evil wana-be.
When I realize the evil mastermind who was plotting to destroy the world was indeed Dr D I just knew I needed to be the one to do something. I planned on appealing to his vanity.
I gathered my McGuiver kit including a rubber chicken, a can of aquanet, and a spoon. It was a long shot but this just had to work.
I proceeded to the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated lair only to find a locked door. Luckily the handle of the spoon I had was easily fashioned into a pick and I was soon inside the lair. The next part was going to be the tricky part. I planted the rubber chicken on a table in the middle of the dinning room and waited in the shadows for him to take the bait. How could a standup comedian pass this up?
An hour or two went by and I must have nodded off a few times. At long last as the sun was setting, Dr D came into the dinning room and spotted the rubber chicken. He was very curious and could not help himself. He walked over to the rubber chicken and started to do some of his old stand up routines right then and there. He was so mesmerized by that chicken that when I snuck up on him and sprayed his hair with the can of aquanet he had no idea I was doing it, that is no idea until I started to smooth down his cowlick. He quickly put down the chicken and spun to see what was happening. It was at this point that I handed him the spoon so he could see his reflection in the spoon. He was in a trance and my plan had worked. The world was saved for now.
Finally we have NYD's pulp fiction inspired response.
It was eighteen years ago to the day. I remember it clearly, who wouldn't. After all, I had saved the world. You say preposterous? You've never heard of this before? Well just sit back, refill your glass and let me fill you in on all the inane details.
It's not under the purview of the general public to be privy to the classified double top secret information of an evil mastermind society that attempts to destroy the world once every four years somewhat like the Olympics or a presidential election, but without the medals, the sweat and the pomp of the opening ceremony.
Most often the hero perishes in his defence of the world. I didn't. This is the how and the why.
The odd. The follicley challenged. The neurotic and those with a penchant for peanuts are not often received as saviors of the earth, but that is exactly what happened.
I was workin a Sunday afternoon shift in the bar and things were quiet. I was passing the time by nibbling on peanuts and making silly faces while studying my reflection on the backside of a spoon. It was at the moment when all is almost quiet. The jukebox was between songs and only the subtle whir of the overhead fan could be heard. when the eerie silence was shattered by trouble pushing through the swinging door. She was tall. She was exotic. She wore a trench coat. I thought to myself; "of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine" (Sorry Bogie). I quickly slipped the spoon into my back pocket, replaced the lid on the ginormous bucket of salty nuts and proceeded to look busy by polishing a glass that needed no polishing.
The woman sauntered up to the bar and ordered a Pellegrino. I served her a whiskey, neat. She knocked it back and asked for another, a double and I knew I was in trouble. If she was the evil genius then this time around the world was in trouble. I didn't want to destroy her- I wanted to join her. The forces of evil had chosen well.
I had to find a way to prevent her from transferring the vital final information to her minions. I had to think fast. I remembered that the bartender from previous night had left a can of hairspray the infamous brand called Aquanet on a shelf in the locker room. This gave me an idea. I filled the she devil's glass once again and lifting the bucket of nuts I told her I needed to refill the bucket for the evenings festivities.
Making my way into the back I kept up a steady stream of patter while at the same moment I whipped out the spoon from my back pocket and punctured the can of hairspray with the back end of it. I then jammed the can of Aquanet into the bucket of salty, thirst inducing goober beans.
Returning to the bar, I challenged my nemesis to a game of chance. For every peanut she caught I would pay her the price of a drink or pour her one. Being an egomaniac destroyer of worlds who looked at the rest of us as nothing more than insects, she could hardly refuse my offer. I made the first few fairly easy to bolster her feelings of superiority, but then I started to make things more and more difficult by firing the hairspray covered peanuts from my spoon in rapid succession into her inviting mouth. After a few minutes of this she was way up on the count. Her ego wouldn't let her believe that a simple bartender could be tricking her. In a short time the hair spray had done it's job. She was unable to either swallow the nuts I had fired into her mouth nor could she expectorate for the glue that has held up the hairdos of millions of American women throughout three decades of beehive bouffants and Farrah Fawcett look alike styling would not allow any movement from her molars. My timing could not have been more perfect for just as the enamel was setting; her contact was coming throughout the door. As he ordered a bottle of Amstel Light I reached under the counter and pulled out the lead filled rubber chicken that was kept there for comedy self defense. I just happened to be teaching a class at the local university for nerds who needed protection and had reason to carry the innocuous object. Holding the bottle of beer in one hand I swung the chicken through the air not once, but twice! On the first stroke I laid out the contact. The second felled the girl. I carried her to the back room and alerted the agency. They arrived and took the man away. The world was saved with one stroke of my chicken (cough). As for the girl? Well let's just say she woke up next to a bartender and had a mouthful of nuts to chew on.
A spoon, a rubber chicken, a can of Aquanet, and a bucket of peanuts. is all you need to save the world and find a girl.
The poll is open until Friday at 11:00 pm Eastern time.
Good luck to all you wacky heroes!
Onto the question...
An evil mastermind is going to destroy the world unless you can stop him. You are armed with a spoon, a rubber chicken, a can of aquanet, and a bucket of peanuts. What is your plan?
Craver was the first to offer a solution:
Oh, that's too easy!!! Since evil masterminds can't resist monologues, I wait until he begins, then I cause a distraction by flipping the bird (the chicken of course!) and while everyone is momentarily taken aback, I use the spoon to flick peanuts to wipe out his minions, making sure I aim carefully, as I intend to eat whatever's left, then spray the aquanet in his face, emptying the entire contents. Overturning the empty peanut bucket on his head, I bang away with the empty aquanet canister until he concedes his defeat.
.I hope I get to keep the chicken when I'm done.
Luckily the evil mastermind is an elephant with a penchant for Winger and all things 80s hair metal. Ergo, I lure him into my trap with the can of Aquanet and peanuts. Then I would distract him by throwing the spoon past his eyes, allowing me to shove the rubber chicken up his ass. Then whenever he would pass gas, this would inflate the chicken, causing him to retreat back into his jungle from the shame.
My save the world plan is based on a lot of caveats I realize… not sure if many elephants that like Winger would want to take over the world. Also, I’m not sure if elephant farts would actually inflate the rubber chicken or just shoot it out at the speed of light. I might be unknowingly arming this elephant to shoot elephant fart scented rubber chickens at innocent people.
OK, here’s what I’d do. I’d invite him over for dinner. I’d grind up the peanuts and put them into everything, and hope he has a severe allergy. If that doesn’t work, after dinner I’ll ask him if he wants to have sex with me.
(I’m as hetero as they come [no pun intended] but if the fate of the world is at stake, I’m willing to make some sacrifices.)
If the shock of me asking him for sex doesn’t kill him, I have another plan. Before he arrives for dinner, I will have cut a hole in the rubber chicken and sprayed the carcass full of the Aquanet, then patched it up. When he strips naked, I’ll jam the rubber chicken up his ass, light a match, and throw it at him. That ought to do the trick. Now, you're probably wondering how I would survive the resultant blast. I'll be hiding behind the spoon. You might say that's ridiculous, but you didn't specify how big the spoon had to be.
If he doesn't have a peanut allergy, or isn't interested in gay sex, I'll just whack him over the head with the really big spoon. As a matter of fact, I should probably do that first. I might not feel like cooking that night (although missing out on the chance to shove a rubber chicken up someone's butt might leave me sad. It's not often you get that sort of an opportunity.)
Cooper conjured up some interesting images with his plan, which thankfully did not involve the chicken being inserted in anyone.
Spray my entire naked body with aquanet and apply the peanuts until I am covered from head to toe. Blow up the rubber chicken and jam the handle of the spoon down it’s throat. While the mastermind is distracted by the peanut covered body, I squeeze the rubber chicken, shooting the spoon with bullet like speed so that it lodges in the forehead of a portrait of the mastermind’s pet cow, Cerberus, thus reducing the twisted genius to a quivering mass of remorse.
Next Ms. Solitaire shared a plan with a uniquely feminine twist.
First, I’ll start by training a herd of Elephants with the peanuts, they will be trained to trample what ever I designate. Designation of the stampede is by using the spoon to slingshot the rubber chicken at the evil mastermind. I’ll use the aquanet to make sure my hair looks perfect after the elephants and the slingshotting for the press and photo ops!
APJ followed with a plan that is to serve as the plot for her next show.
This is my 2010 Rogue Show, starring Apj, Lime and Solitaire. The evil Princess Solitaire has not only taken over the Rogue, but has her sights on the world as well. And if the world won't bow to her will.... But never fear! APj and Lime know of her rubber chicken and peanuts fetish (did she say "peanus"?) and are not afraid to throw peanuts her way (did she really say "peanus?")! And if all else fails, APj and Lime have the Spoon of Swoon, which always reduces the Princess to a puddle.
yes, yes, I know - I didn't use the Aquanet. Hey -- you gotta have something for the sequel, right?
Next, Barman took a shot at the evil mastermind.
It turns out that in one of Dr. Doofenshmirtz past professions we a stand up comic. I found this out about a year ago when, as fate would have it I bumped into Dr D bellied up to the bar. He was about to leave but I thought it would be a shame not to see what his story was so I slipped the waitress a fin to set a bucket of peanuts next to where I was sitting. Dr D could not help himself as he reached in an picked up a few peanuts. That lead to a few more peanuts and I capitalized on the moment and bought him a drink. It was a wild night but I found out enough to know Dr D was an inept evil wana-be.
When I realize the evil mastermind who was plotting to destroy the world was indeed Dr D I just knew I needed to be the one to do something. I planned on appealing to his vanity.
I gathered my McGuiver kit including a rubber chicken, a can of aquanet, and a spoon. It was a long shot but this just had to work.
I proceeded to the Doofenshmirtz Evil Incorporated lair only to find a locked door. Luckily the handle of the spoon I had was easily fashioned into a pick and I was soon inside the lair. The next part was going to be the tricky part. I planted the rubber chicken on a table in the middle of the dinning room and waited in the shadows for him to take the bait. How could a standup comedian pass this up?
An hour or two went by and I must have nodded off a few times. At long last as the sun was setting, Dr D came into the dinning room and spotted the rubber chicken. He was very curious and could not help himself. He walked over to the rubber chicken and started to do some of his old stand up routines right then and there. He was so mesmerized by that chicken that when I snuck up on him and sprayed his hair with the can of aquanet he had no idea I was doing it, that is no idea until I started to smooth down his cowlick. He quickly put down the chicken and spun to see what was happening. It was at this point that I handed him the spoon so he could see his reflection in the spoon. He was in a trance and my plan had worked. The world was saved for now.
Finally we have NYD's pulp fiction inspired response.
It was eighteen years ago to the day. I remember it clearly, who wouldn't. After all, I had saved the world. You say preposterous? You've never heard of this before? Well just sit back, refill your glass and let me fill you in on all the inane details.
It's not under the purview of the general public to be privy to the classified double top secret information of an evil mastermind society that attempts to destroy the world once every four years somewhat like the Olympics or a presidential election, but without the medals, the sweat and the pomp of the opening ceremony.
Most often the hero perishes in his defence of the world. I didn't. This is the how and the why.
The odd. The follicley challenged. The neurotic and those with a penchant for peanuts are not often received as saviors of the earth, but that is exactly what happened.
I was workin a Sunday afternoon shift in the bar and things were quiet. I was passing the time by nibbling on peanuts and making silly faces while studying my reflection on the backside of a spoon. It was at the moment when all is almost quiet. The jukebox was between songs and only the subtle whir of the overhead fan could be heard. when the eerie silence was shattered by trouble pushing through the swinging door. She was tall. She was exotic. She wore a trench coat. I thought to myself; "of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine" (Sorry Bogie). I quickly slipped the spoon into my back pocket, replaced the lid on the ginormous bucket of salty nuts and proceeded to look busy by polishing a glass that needed no polishing.
The woman sauntered up to the bar and ordered a Pellegrino. I served her a whiskey, neat. She knocked it back and asked for another, a double and I knew I was in trouble. If she was the evil genius then this time around the world was in trouble. I didn't want to destroy her- I wanted to join her. The forces of evil had chosen well.
I had to find a way to prevent her from transferring the vital final information to her minions. I had to think fast. I remembered that the bartender from previous night had left a can of hairspray the infamous brand called Aquanet on a shelf in the locker room. This gave me an idea. I filled the she devil's glass once again and lifting the bucket of nuts I told her I needed to refill the bucket for the evenings festivities.
Making my way into the back I kept up a steady stream of patter while at the same moment I whipped out the spoon from my back pocket and punctured the can of hairspray with the back end of it. I then jammed the can of Aquanet into the bucket of salty, thirst inducing goober beans.
Returning to the bar, I challenged my nemesis to a game of chance. For every peanut she caught I would pay her the price of a drink or pour her one. Being an egomaniac destroyer of worlds who looked at the rest of us as nothing more than insects, she could hardly refuse my offer. I made the first few fairly easy to bolster her feelings of superiority, but then I started to make things more and more difficult by firing the hairspray covered peanuts from my spoon in rapid succession into her inviting mouth. After a few minutes of this she was way up on the count. Her ego wouldn't let her believe that a simple bartender could be tricking her. In a short time the hair spray had done it's job. She was unable to either swallow the nuts I had fired into her mouth nor could she expectorate for the glue that has held up the hairdos of millions of American women throughout three decades of beehive bouffants and Farrah Fawcett look alike styling would not allow any movement from her molars. My timing could not have been more perfect for just as the enamel was setting; her contact was coming throughout the door. As he ordered a bottle of Amstel Light I reached under the counter and pulled out the lead filled rubber chicken that was kept there for comedy self defense. I just happened to be teaching a class at the local university for nerds who needed protection and had reason to carry the innocuous object. Holding the bottle of beer in one hand I swung the chicken through the air not once, but twice! On the first stroke I laid out the contact. The second felled the girl. I carried her to the back room and alerted the agency. They arrived and took the man away. The world was saved with one stroke of my chicken (cough). As for the girl? Well let's just say she woke up next to a bartender and had a mouthful of nuts to chew on.
A spoon, a rubber chicken, a can of Aquanet, and a bucket of peanuts. is all you need to save the world and find a girl.
The poll is open until Friday at 11:00 pm Eastern time.
Good luck to all you wacky heroes!
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Weird New Year
*image from http://www.flickr.com/photos/lehighvalleypa/3027917998/in/photostream/
Looking for somethign quirkier than the ball dropping in Times Square? Head to Bethlehem, PA for the New Year's Peep Show. They drop a lit 25 lb fiberglass replica of a marshmallow peep at midnight.
Happy New Year's
Happy New Year's
Monday, December 08, 2008
Weird Gifts
Susie has a shop over at Etsy, which is a wonderful online resource for finding beautiful and unique handmade items. Some are more beautiful, such as Susie's creations. Some tip more toward the "unique" side of the scale....Some go way beyond unique and slide right into disturbed territory. At Susie's request I am reviewing some of the unique and disturbed finds just in time for your holiday shopping.
Right off the bat, with about 10 seconds worth of searching the site I found Vagina Soap Favors. There is even a choice between Caucasian and African-American skin tones or, if you prefer, there is also a Butt-shaped soap. What guy wouldn't want to find this in his stocking on Christmas morning? I can't even bring myself to post a picture of the Bride/Penis Soap. Go look. I'll wait. I am not even sure which gender that's intended for. It's the stuff of nightmares, folks.
The Golden Brown Beard would seem a normal sort of thing for the harried mother who needs a Halloween costume for her kid and wants it to be handmade without making it herself. However, Halloween is past. Also, take a look at the texture of the fake beard. I've never seen a man's beard grow in and look so much like fish scales but the description for the beard is what truly perplexes me.
The perfect fall beard. You’ll look great on your stroll through the park, as your new beard complements the changing leaves. A real autumn beauty; vibrant, yet demure. This beard would look especially handsome on a redhead, but is perfect for anyone wanting to add a little spice to their normal autumn attire.
So the maker views this as a fashion statement for women? (or I am the only one who thinks the model is a girl?) Oooooookay...Moving right along.
Here is the Love Heart Fake Dog Poop Gift for when you care enough to shit the very best. The scary thing is, I know men who would think this would be a wonderful gift for the special woman in their lives. These are the kind of men who send Valentine's Day card where the punchline is a reference to dog genitalia. I swear if any of you hips Mr. Lime to this entry I will have to hurt you before I send him to the Doghouse (Thanks, Cooper, for that little gem of an idea.)
Apparently beer can hats did NOT die the death they should have way back in the 70s. They have come back with the new and exciting textured yarns and are now made of soda cans so they are age-appropriate across generations...or perhaps the inappropriateness can span the generations. Notice the festive holiday color theme of this Mountain Dew Hat with Fun Frills.
Gads, I don't know. It makes my head hurt thinking about it...makes it hurt like there's a razor sharp can panel slicing into my scalp.
Next we have the Embroidered Phrenology Pin Cushion. It's kind of a voodoo/19th century pseudoscience meets fashion design piece that no deranged seamstress should be without.
Now we have something that really makes me wonder. The Voodoo Bottles themselves are wonderfully crafted pieces or art. It's the part of the description that says, "Each bottle has a mysterious thick liquid inside," that concerns me. I have visions of some sicko potter killing and dismembering some enemy. After sending the victim through the blender the psycho puts a little bit inside each of these bottles before mailing them off. Eeeeewwww.
Moving right along...How about something for the kiddies? Reindeer Snot! According to the seller it's a generous portion attractively packaged in an organza bag. (Anyone besides me gagging already as they consider the inability of organza to adequately contain snot?) Oh, it also comes with a poem. Won't the kids enjoy reaching into their stockings to find this!
And that concludes this year's review of all the weirdness one stocking could hold. Only 17 more shopping days so hurry and order now!
Right off the bat, with about 10 seconds worth of searching the site I found Vagina Soap Favors. There is even a choice between Caucasian and African-American skin tones or, if you prefer, there is also a Butt-shaped soap. What guy wouldn't want to find this in his stocking on Christmas morning? I can't even bring myself to post a picture of the Bride/Penis Soap. Go look. I'll wait. I am not even sure which gender that's intended for. It's the stuff of nightmares, folks.
The Golden Brown Beard would seem a normal sort of thing for the harried mother who needs a Halloween costume for her kid and wants it to be handmade without making it herself. However, Halloween is past. Also, take a look at the texture of the fake beard. I've never seen a man's beard grow in and look so much like fish scales but the description for the beard is what truly perplexes me.The perfect fall beard. You’ll look great on your stroll through the park, as your new beard complements the changing leaves. A real autumn beauty; vibrant, yet demure. This beard would look especially handsome on a redhead, but is perfect for anyone wanting to add a little spice to their normal autumn attire.
So the maker views this as a fashion statement for women? (or I am the only one who thinks the model is a girl?) Oooooookay...Moving right along.
Here is the Love Heart Fake Dog Poop Gift for when you care enough to shit the very best. The scary thing is, I know men who would think this would be a wonderful gift for the special woman in their lives. These are the kind of men who send Valentine's Day card where the punchline is a reference to dog genitalia. I swear if any of you hips Mr. Lime to this entry I will have to hurt you before I send him to the Doghouse (Thanks, Cooper, for that little gem of an idea.)
Apparently beer can hats did NOT die the death they should have way back in the 70s. They have come back with the new and exciting textured yarns and are now made of soda cans so they are age-appropriate across generations...or perhaps the inappropriateness can span the generations. Notice the festive holiday color theme of this Mountain Dew Hat with Fun Frills.Gads, I don't know. It makes my head hurt thinking about it...makes it hurt like there's a razor sharp can panel slicing into my scalp.
Next we have the Embroidered Phrenology Pin Cushion. It's kind of a voodoo/19th century pseudoscience meets fashion design piece that no deranged seamstress should be without.
Now we have something that really makes me wonder. The Voodoo Bottles themselves are wonderfully crafted pieces or art. It's the part of the description that says, "Each bottle has a mysterious thick liquid inside," that concerns me. I have visions of some sicko potter killing and dismembering some enemy. After sending the victim through the blender the psycho puts a little bit inside each of these bottles before mailing them off. Eeeeewwww.
Moving right along...How about something for the kiddies? Reindeer Snot! According to the seller it's a generous portion attractively packaged in an organza bag. (Anyone besides me gagging already as they consider the inability of organza to adequately contain snot?) Oh, it also comes with a poem. Won't the kids enjoy reaching into their stockings to find this!And that concludes this year's review of all the weirdness one stocking could hold. Only 17 more shopping days so hurry and order now!
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Weird Politics
Here is the stuff of nightmares...Presidential candidate Cabbage Patch Dolls. They are supposed to be auctioned for charity. I don't even want to imagine anyone actually thinking these things are something they'd want in their house, much less pay a ridiculous sum of money for them. Please, just make the charitable donation and make the "dolls" go away. Bury them in the dirt in the cabbage patch. Here we have Obama himself. If you ask me he looks more like Bryant Gumbel's brother Greg.
Sarah Palin just looks like a somewhat hipper Mrs. Beasley, who I always thought was kind of a creepy looking doll to begin with.
And if you haven't been completely skeeved out by those, here we have the John McCain doll....complete with mortuary makeup. Seriously, I don't think McCain has that much color in real life. What child wouldn't want to be tucked in at night without clutching one of these. Sort of sends a shiver up your spine, doesn't it?
Now for some truth is stranger than fiction take this quiz to see if you have what it takes to be President.
(For those of you how all but demanded to see the wedding gown mentioned yesterday, tune in tomorrow. How can I resist popular demand? Well, ok, so the popular vote didn't really win it, but maybe the electoral vote? Ok, well enough of you expressed interest that as per the ruling of the Supreme Court of Lime it constitutes a victory.)
(For those of you how all but demanded to see the wedding gown mentioned yesterday, tune in tomorrow. How can I resist popular demand? Well, ok, so the popular vote didn't really win it, but maybe the electoral vote? Ok, well enough of you expressed interest that as per the ruling of the Supreme Court of Lime it constitutes a victory.)
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Resourcefulness
Well, isn't it just great fun watching the news these days? Banks are going under and markets are in an uproar. It's time to figure out how to gain some extra income.
280 WATTSThat doesn't seem like much. According to the 30 seconds of research I put into the matter that will power a 1/4 inch drill...for how long I don't know.
I reckon if there's going to be drilling going on this may be somewhat more lucrative.
$4675.00
If all else fails there's always this...
HumanForSale.com - Fun Quizzes
Maybe I should just put myself on eBay.
280 WATTSThat doesn't seem like much. According to the 30 seconds of research I put into the matter that will power a 1/4 inch drill...for how long I don't know.
I reckon if there's going to be drilling going on this may be somewhat more lucrative.
$4675.00
If all else fails there's always this...
HumanForSale.com - Fun Quizzes
Maybe I should just put myself on eBay.
Monday, September 08, 2008
Sing a Song of Meme-ishness
This has been sitting in drafts since I pilfered it from Airplanejayne.
Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, answer these questions...No repeats on songs!(You didn't honestly expect me to do this straight did you?)
1. Are you a male or female?
I Think I'm a Clone Now2. Describe yourself:
She Drives Like Crazy3. How do you feel about yourself?
Dare to Be Stupid4. Describe where you currently are:
Nature Trail to Hell5. If you could go anywhere, where would you go?
Amish Paradise6. Your best friend is:
Harvey the Wonder Hamster7. Your favorite color is:
White & Nerdy
White & Nerdy
8. You know that:
I Want a New Duck9. What's the weather like?
Christmas at Ground Zero10. If your life was a television show, what would it be called?
Weasel Stomping Day11. What is life to you?
Attack of the Radioactive Hamsters from a Planet Near Mars12. What is the best advice you have to give?
Everything You Know is Wrong13. If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Waffle King
In other meme related news, Suldog has tagged me to make a movie of my life and cast the various people in my life with famous actors. VE did this some time ago only he cast the roles of fellow bloggers. I've exhausted myself with 15 minutes of thought on the whole matter and decided I'll do a movie with fellow bloggers rather than my family. Suldog totally copped out on the whole thing by saying it was unsafe to try to cast any female because invariably someone would be insulted and yet he tagged me with it. It was a move that was slick as snot, let me tell ya. So I will take up the challenge but I sure don't want to get in any trouble by creating a role for one blogger and not another or maybe creating a role for someone who doesn't want to be in this future blockbuster. So if you want to be cast in a sweeping space saga of zany adventures in a slapstick historical docudrama shot like a spaghetti western let me know. Think of it as Merchant/Ivory forming an uneasy union with Lucas/Spielberg in order to do battle against a Mel Brooks/Clint Eastwood led gang all while wondering which side Michael Moore will propagandize as leading a great conspiracy against the public...really, it's going to be great. Weird Al has already agreed to score the film.
Waffle King
In other meme related news, Suldog has tagged me to make a movie of my life and cast the various people in my life with famous actors. VE did this some time ago only he cast the roles of fellow bloggers. I've exhausted myself with 15 minutes of thought on the whole matter and decided I'll do a movie with fellow bloggers rather than my family. Suldog totally copped out on the whole thing by saying it was unsafe to try to cast any female because invariably someone would be insulted and yet he tagged me with it. It was a move that was slick as snot, let me tell ya. So I will take up the challenge but I sure don't want to get in any trouble by creating a role for one blogger and not another or maybe creating a role for someone who doesn't want to be in this future blockbuster. So if you want to be cast in a sweeping space saga of zany adventures in a slapstick historical docudrama shot like a spaghetti western let me know. Think of it as Merchant/Ivory forming an uneasy union with Lucas/Spielberg in order to do battle against a Mel Brooks/Clint Eastwood led gang all while wondering which side Michael Moore will propagandize as leading a great conspiracy against the public...really, it's going to be great. Weird Al has already agreed to score the film.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
More Weird Politics
Last week I had fun at the Democrats' expense. This week the Republicans get their turn.
With his Sanford and Son schtick, McCain makes light of Palin being one heartbeat away from the Presidency,"Oooo... Its the Big One... You hear that Elizabeth... I'm comin' to you, I'm comin' home to Georgia!"
Meanwhile, Cindy McCain gets flustered when she tries to help John count how many houses they own.
Guiliani wonders, "What the hell is that smell? Did Palin drag a moose carcass in here?"
Thompson mutters under his breath, "I swear if they play the Law and Order theme for a sound check one more time I am going to beat this guy with the microphone."Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Weird Politics
First of all, credit where it is due. This is inspired by some of Sudiegirl's early posts on the election. This is the sort of thing that may keep me sane through election day. I'll be adding my own captions. And yes, I am a bipartisan mocker so you can expect me to do the same to the Republicans later.
Look, Hillary. I'm sorry how things worked out for you. Even though I said yes to Obama I still think your hooters are great!
In a display of his famous bridge building behavior Obama says, "Neener, neener, neener!"
Away from the festivities Kucinich sings, "Happy convention to you, happy convention to you. I look like a monkey, but you smell like one too."
Back at the convention Jesse Jackson, Jr. dazzles the crowd with his own singing. "O give me a home where the Obamas roam, where the Bidens and Kennedys play. Where seldom is heard a trustworthy word and the Clintons just shut up all day...Come on now, join me on the chorus...."
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