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Wednesday, February 28, 2001 |
Still ungodly sick but...
WHAT'S THIS!? I've finished the Update From Hell! Wheeeee! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lie down on the couch and pray for a quick death... |
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Tuesday, February 27, 2001 |
I am sick as a dog and wish to be killed.
I am also broke. Speaking of broke, so is my camera. Good news? BrakYeller's brother, David, is trying to get me a job at Dominos delivering pizzas again until I can get another graphic artist job. At the same time, I also have three prospective web pages to design. We'll wait and see how those come out. In the mean time, I've stayed busy sleeping off my medicinal binge (pollen season just plain sucks but you should know that if you read the post below). My left ear feels like it's closed up entirely and I can only scarcely hear out of it. My medication makes me sleepy and sometimes I drift off without realizing it and awake several hours later wondering where the day went. I don't usually do that sort of thing. The Update From Hell is in its final stage and should be done tonight if all goes well, or tomorrow at the latest if I pass out. I've found lots of mistakes and I'm correcting those. Don't worry. It'll be linked up here and I'll e-mail everyone including total strangers to let them know about it. That reminds me. I borrowed Richard's turntable and mixer (he's upgraded to a Vestax 07 Pro, that smarmy bastard- I love him) and cut it up for Youth @ Risk at the Capri saturday night. That was a blast. You should have been there (or maybe you were in which case, thanks!). |
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Wednesday, February 21, 2001 |
Pollen season has begun a bit early this year.
For those unfamiliar with pollen season in the Georgia, we are blessed with an abundance of pine trees. Too many, in fact. The pine pollen is a thick, yellow dust that blankets the land and hardly anyone is immune to its ugly affects. Everything turns yellow from cars to sidewalks to blacktop. It's disgusting looking, uncomfortable to the touch, and always makes my ears and nose fill up and swell and my throat sore. And I don't get hit nearly as bad as some people. I don't enjoy it one bit. |
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Wednesday, February 21, 2001 |
Well, I say Hannible and was impressed but the ending was just screwed. I won't ruin it for you but you may want to leave towards the end instead of watching.
Anyway, I rented V, the miniseries and watched it last night. It was interesting because when it first aired so many years ago, it scared the crap out of me. Watching it now, and I may be jaded from all the horror films I watched in the 80's, I was not that impressed. I did, however, find the comparisons to Nazi Germany to be, although hamhanded, still intriguing. I'd like to see a theatrical remake (although I guess Independance Day kind of is). I also attended the aforementioned workshop at the Unemployment Agency (the Georgia Department of Labor) today and I must say, it was five and a half hours of my life I will never regain. Seriously. I learned nothing I didn't already know from plain common sense or education from Augusta Tech. But for five and a half hours I sat in an uncomfortable chair surrounded by uncomfortable people and feeling uncomfortable. And I have nothing to show for it but a snazzy blue folder and some paperwork I will probably never use. You're probably wondering why I rent and go see movies if I'm on unemployment. Well. For one thing, after you've exhausted a day's worth of employment options, there's nothing to do. Also, I never said I paid for everything. Regardless, I was given Aceyalone's new album as an advance release by my man Dave who got it from somewhere or another. I'm pretty impressed but it's not the masterpiece that was A Book of Human Language. Still, it's pretty tight and definately gives me my fix for a while. |
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Saturday, February 17, 2001 |
Poultry Cannibalism
These are important notes about preventing Poultry Cannibalism. That's right. I said "Poultry Cannibalism." And isn't that a wonderful bandname? This page features lots of helpful information such as, "Slow feathering birds are most prone to cannibalism." I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I'd also like to mention one of the helpful prevention methods: "Applying an "anti-peck" ointment or pine tar on any damaged birds usually stops pecking." I'm certain everyone out there feels the way I do about this issue and can only respond with, "PINE TAR!?" The preceding is brought to you by the people at ext.vt.edu, a leading exporter of poultry and random combinations of letters. Be sure to peruse through the rest of the site hunting down helpful tips about seeding and animal maintenance and the 4-H Club and so forth. But never forget to prevent Poultry Cannibalism. I for one, will be stocking up on lots of pine tar. |
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Wednesday, February 14, 2001 |
Reading through this page's contents, a few things have become clear to me...
1) I have an alarming fascination with band names. 2) Sir Mildred Pierce owns at least three (THREE!) Teletubbies dolls. 3) Item #2 leads me to believe that there is little in the way of extracurricular activities in Nome, Alaska. 4) I may have given people the impression that all I do is surf the web looking for rubber duckies and am therefore some kind of sexual deviant. It's not true. I never search the web for rubber duckies. I just happened upon two different rubber-ducky-related websites by coincidence. I am, however, a sexual deviant. 5) I have utterly failed on every count to sign my posts which I had promised I would do. Henceforth, if I forget, I will whack myself over the head with one government issue police baton until I either sign every post, or am reduced to a drooling vegetable. In other news, I completely redesigned rapeface and the response has been pretty good but, contrary to popular belief, I did not put the sketchzilla fly-up tag in there and have no idea where it is or how it's doing what it's doing. And while you're checking out rapeface, be sure to poke into uglyfatkid, a new pita which seems to have the sole purpose of saying nothing. It makes me laugh. That's all I need sometimes. |
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Wednesday, February 14, 2001 |
celebriducks.com
They make rubber duckies formed after famous entertainers/athletes/historical figures. My personal favorite is the James Brown Duck. Seeing the Godfather of Soul floating in a soapy tub and squeaking when you squeeze him would certainly be the highlight of my life. The Mona Lisa Duck is pretty cool too. She looks kind of like Kenny G with an orange nose (it's creepy, but true). They also take requests so be sure to pester them until your own likeness is rendered squeaky and duck-like. |
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Monday, February 12, 2001 |
It's wet and dreary here and stuff. My unemployment checks are getting halted because I have to go to some meeting that they failed to tell me about. I swear I am not making any of that up. I'm also applying for a job as a mystery shopper which would be pretty cool although I won't take it if the job is less than I make in unmployment. I'd much rather get a job in my field (graphic design) but Augusta is not known as a haven of Advertising. Sigh. The probability I will move back in with my parents in the interum is looming like a dark cloud. | ||
Saturday, February 10, 2001 |
Here are some things that my dog, Brother, has chewed up: two Po's and Tinky-Wink two alarm clocks numerous issues of Tiempos Del Mundo a bit of the wall behind the toilet my leather belt his leather leash my guitar strap The upholstery of a nice chair The legs of a nice chair the cord to my phone the cord to my other phone my airplane shirt my Breeders CD my Mazzy Star CD |
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Tuesday, February 6, 2001 |
For those who don't know, they are changing the Georgia state flag. For those who are completely unaware, they are changing it because it has long contained the dreaded "Stars and Bars" as two thirds of flag space, reserving the other third for the Georgia state seal (toss him some fish!). Well, there are those who claim this flag represents years of slavery, discrimination and racism, and for the most part, they are right.
I used to harbor no feelings whatsoever about the flag, but about a year ago I began to think about what a flag really is and that has completely changed me. A flag is like language, or written language to be more percise. We write a word on a page and that word is a series of letters or pictures. These pictures really mean nothing seperated but phonetic sounds and parts of an unfinished whole, but assembled correctly, they form a mental image. If everyone in a society agrees that a word carries the same meaning, then it adopts an image. A flag is such an image. When the Civil War raged through America, the flag stood for a rightfully declared independance (you disagree? better tell George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin, etc. - all men who fought a civil war against England). Although slavery is a convenient and easily accessable reason to say the war was fought, the real reason was money (the South had most of it), and the North didn't want to lose those states, lest the financial status of the nation would crumble. That Confederate flag isn't even the true symbol of the Confederacy. It is the flag of the Confederate Navy (really- so everyone involved should get their friggin' facts straight). However, over time, the use of the Confederate flag by those of a, shall we say, less than unifying nature (read: racist, inbred, ignorant, stupid, stupid, evil, stupid, ugly, toothless, hairy bastards) have made it their flag. This has shifted the associative meaning. That is to say, everyone pretty much agrees that the flag can (and usually does) represent racism to some degree. Without this cultural discourse, all written language and symbolism loses meaning. The flag has come, for better or worse, to represent racism. It is time for the flag to go. I know I've probably offended a few people here with these viewpoints, but you're more than welcome to e-mail me with a complaint or to start your own friggin' pita to express your viewpoint. Racism is a stupid thing and the more we can do to kill it off, the better we will be as a society. |
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Monday, February 5, 2001 |
Mass Media progress report
I am getting paid a few bucks to put together the website for Mass Media Marketing. Here's a sneak peak. Bear in mind that I still have a great deal more to do. In other news, my home is plagued by ladybugs (really). Some people are infested with roaches or spiders and so forth but for me, ladybugs. I have no idea how they get in, or why, but I do know that they tend to migrate towards either my bathroom or the windowsill in my main room (family area/dining area/mosh pit) where they die among their fellow ladybugs. I'm thinking of putting some kind of tombstone or memorial marker over the windowsill. |
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Thursday, February 1, 2001 |
I went to Staples today.
There's nothing inherently interesting about that, until I mention that the guy in line in front of me kept staring at me and mumbling to himself. His eyes were crazy and they studied me with a piercing gaze so I started to look around, trying not to notice but becoming acutely aware every time I would turn back to see if the line had moved. Of course the customer at the front of the line (and the only open line, I might add) was busy trying to pay for her purchase with a third-party check written in crayon by the Prime Minister of Switzerland and using a cardboard cutout with her photo on it for identification, so the cashier was taking a great deal of time to get things taken care of and there I am, standing alone, being eyed by this psycho bastard who keeps mumbling something to himself as he stares at me. Finally, I turned to him and caught a faint bit of his voice so I decided to take action. I said, "Excuse me?" which seemed like an innocent sort of thing to say as his eyes darted to and fro in their sockets like crazed bees. He smiled a devious smile and said, "Oh! There's nothing wrong with me!" Well, comforted in his assertion that he certainly was not the type to follow me into the parking lot and then split my skull open with a Louisville Slugger, I turned away and stared intensely at the rest of the store, hoping my death would be quick and painless. He didn't kill me, but he was still there when I left, staring around the store as if looking for something (or someone) to put in his closet. Creepy. I noticed I have been forgetting to sign my posts like I pledged I would. I'm sorry. From now on, I will sign them all with my name to avoid any confusion. --Stephen King |
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Wednesday, January 31, 2001 |
Well, I spent at least 30 minutes checking out things that are For Sale By a Mental Patient... His Original Toothcrafted Mugs are about the only thing I ever considered buying off of cafepress.com...
I spent nearly as much time checking out the new violentnation.com search engine, which is too cool. (I spent about ten minutes trying to find the email in which E_B_A told me about his new search engine so that I could post the URL for it, but then I realized it was via this weblog that I learned of his new creation. So much for pissing him off by posting an unfinished webpage... anyways the url is: violentnation.com/search .... I really would like to order this service for my boss or somebody..., but $4.95 per call!? Now if you excuse me I'm going to go spent 10 dollars at the Glue Pot for a meal that I would spend 4 bucks on in Georgia. -- Sir Mildred Pierce p.s. -- if and when you are showing your students a really cool website, be sure to screen it in advance for things that say "FUCK YOU SAN FRANCISCO"... |
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Tuesday, January 30, 2001 |
Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanie
I'm sorry to admit it but this is just a joke. What's a shame is that I almost wish this was real so I could put a bunch of sarcastic stuff about the site in my commentary, but since it's not all I can do is commend them for their ingenius scam. Imagine the wacky nutjobs out there who will be convinced this is legit and start donning headpieces of foil and tape. It'd be worth seeing them, if they ever came out in public. But remember, the people behind the Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanies are not nutjobs. Flemming Allan Funch, on the other hand, is a nutjob. A real one. Not in a Jeffery-Dahlmer-Eat-Your-Liver-With-Fava-Beans-Way, but still, he's a nutjob. For starters, he picked the most disturbing serial-killer mugshot of a photo I have ever seen to lead off his site. He then proceeds to tell you he designs websites (good job here, Flemming!) and so forth. But you have to read everything because, like his friend Ludwig Plutonium, he is subtle in his insanity to a certain degree. Like, one minute Flemming is regaling you with his passion for motorcylces, and the next he's telling you about the time he and an unnamed "friend" (my guess? invisible) went to Area 51 and watched the secret military UFOs fly around. Yeah. Good thing he included his home phone number on the main page. Should make it easier for the FEMA agents in their black helicopters to track him down and drag him back to their secret mind lab to perform various experiments on him. Yeah... And by the way, "Flemming Allan Funch" is just about the oddest name I've ever encountered. I mean, it's just wierd enough to sound fake but just wierd enough to sound real. Give Flemming a visit, and make sure his dosage is maintained. Thank you. |
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Monday, January 29, 2001 |
I finally got the search engine tweeked out and working on my website. Take a look and bear in mind that if you search for the right things, you can stumble onto uncompleted parts of the massive Update From Hell. So don't be surprised if you follow those pages and encounter broken links. | ||
Sunday, January 28, 2001 |
fixturepronto.com
Now let me say up front that I respect any and all things concerning department stores. And they need so sell clothing somehow and the clothing always looks best if it's worn and models are not cheap so fake people standing around in fake positions wearing real clothing is fine with our society. I can accept all that. I can accept that someone has to manufacture these fake people, and sell them to the department stores. But every time I've ever visited this website, I feel a dirty, sickening, uncomfortable feeling (kind of like filling your socks with Jell-O and then running the mile). Ignore the first page full of links and pick one of the series pages. You won't be disappointed, but if you're at work, you may be judged for all time by your co-workers if they see you looking at these pictures (unless you're in the Fake Person-Purchasing Department). Now as I said, I have nothing against synthetic people (give for Al Gore), and I also have nothing against fake animals. Take rubber duckies for instance (No, really! Take them! TAKE THEM!). Rubber duckies are cute and cuddly. But there are strange people in the world. People who take something cute and cuddly and try to do God-knows-what with it. Here's a good example. This guy wants you to send him your rubber ducky with no explanation as to why he needs more than one rubber ducky, what he intends to do with all those rubber duckies and more importantly, why he can't get mass quantities of rubber duckies on his own (restraining orders would be my guess). He will include photos of any ducks you send him. I imagine, his photo is circulating throughout post offices in this great land of ours. Moving along from rubber duckies and synthetic humans (and who doesn't?), we are left with air sickness bags. More importantly, we're left with a virtual gallery of air sickness bags, the curator of which claims are "art." Yes. I can take great relief in knowing that one day, barf bags will grace the hollowed halls of the Louvre (pronounced "Loogie"), bringing enlightenment and elucidation to art fanciers for centuries. I know I'll be sure to stop by for a visit. I also have deliberated for a long time about posting the link to the website featuring lots of photos of used Tampons, but some part of me is holding back (that would be the good, decent, wholesome, tasteful, intelligent, wise, thoughtful, considerate, etc. part). Instead of linking it now, I just mention it for you to go forth and explore in an attempt to find, or at least be comforted by knowing that if you were suddenly struck with the urgent need to download photos of used Tampons, they would be conveniently at your disposal (sorry for the accidental choice of words there). Fake people, rubber ducky fetishes, airline sickness bags and used Tampons. Not only are these each one of the many wonderful and complex pieces that makes the web the working marvel and testimony to the grandeur of mankind's technological strenghs, they all also make fantastic band names. Ta ta! |
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Saturday, January 27, 2001 |
Strawberry Pop-Tart Blow-Torches
I've been an avid reader of Dave Berry for years, so I am acutely aware of the fire hazard Strawberry Pop-Tarts present to the American public, but thanks to websites such as this one, not only is the public even more informed of the health dangers involved in deadly breakfast pastries, but they are also sneakily told that Strawberry Pop-Tarts could be used as weapons, which will come quite in handy thanks to all the kooky gun legislation and confiscation the government is perpetrating these days. I can see it now... some day in the distant future, stealthy federal agents, armed with sophisticated machine guns and high-tech infiltration devices, storm a public munitions facility only to be forced into retreat by flame-throwing, toaster-wielding Gun Rights activists, screaming a proud "My Pop-Tarts are legal! Strawberry will not be banned! Our frosting meets government regulations!" It certainly beings a tear to my eye, but as I've mentioned before, I'm certifiably insane and should be locked up. |
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Friday, January 26, 2001 |
Well, well, well...
For starters, I've had three job interviews this week, two of which went great but one of which totally sucked because the guy interviewing me was an evil bastard. And he eats his boogers. I'm not trying to insinuate that he's ten pounds of pure evil in a five pound bag, but before the interview was done, he snatched an addorable litter of kittens, threw them in a burlap sack, and threw the sack into a clothes dryer. Okay. He's not that evil. And I never actually saw him eat his boogers, but it would not surprise me to discover that booger-eating was one of his hobbies. Mostly, he talked about himself. And his business. And former employees. And photosynthesis. And why the sky is blue. And how nice his sock drawer is. I was screaming on the inside to let me tell him about me and my qualifications, but then I might have disturbed him so I let him talk. The second interview was with the illustrious Metropolitan Spirit, an incredible local newspaper I have respected for years and home to such characters as local talkshow host/nocturnal rodent Austin Rhodes, and respected, multi-published and acclaimed political cartoonist Clyde Wells who's work has been syndicated nationally and printed in Newsweek and Time Magazine (impressed yet?). I also interviewed with (what I inadvertantly discovered to be) the major competitor of my former boss' advertising company. Although that was a wee bit awkward, the interview went well and they want me to come back for a second one. After that, I drove straight to Mass Media which is my same former boss' ad firm I just mentioned and worked on redesigning the menus for Zaxby's (aren't I just the local website pimp today?) which I've mentioned here in this weblog before. The cool thing is, they have over 100 stores currently and are expected to open 200 more this year, and if they use my menu design, it will be used in all 300 stores. Whoo ha! My tendrils spread out over the Earth like a black cloud infecting all of man with my sick powers and wicked... uh... er... hmmm... uh... sorry. Speaking of Zaxbys (and everyone, by law, should), as I was laying out the aforementioned menus today, I happened to catch a bit of the conversation about the new ad campaign they will be running for television. Zaxby's sells chicken fingers and buffolo wings (spare me the tired jokes about neither existing) and they mentioned a snappy character they've invented named "Herbert" or "Herman" or some such thing (I can't remember the exact name) and his wild adventures, all of which center around Zaxby's. In all of the ads, Herbert (or Herman) struggles with something and then eats some Zaxby's chicken and tries again and of course, succeeds. This would be fine and dandy were it not for one detail. Herbert (or Herman) is a chicken. That's right! He's a cannibal! So sleep tight, kids! Herbert (or Herman) the cannibal chicken wants you to go Zaxby's tomorrow and be sure to try the Soylent Green! And don't forget, "Cannibal Chicken" is as good a band name as they come! |
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Saturday, January 20, 2001 |
Well, I didn't attend the open house last night. My entire family is sick with the flu (with the exception of me and my nephew, Tyler) and it rained so bad, police advised everyone to stay in their homes. Well, I didn't do that, but I certainly would have enjoyed going to the CPC's openhouse. My mother helps run the organization. Well, there's always next year. | ||
Thursday, January 18, 2001 |
Dag. I did some freelance work for Zaxby's today and while I was at the ad agency, I bumped into Jackson Massey (Massey... Massey... Massey... Massey... Massey...). For those of you unfamiliar with the Augusta area, Jackson Massey is one of those evil lawyer types who will get you paid for any physical harm no matter how minor and even if it was your fault at the expense of God knows who. I'm certain he doesn't take a very large percentage of the earnings either (but then I am also certain it doesn't hurt at all to staple your tongue to the roof of your mouth and then gargle a dozen thumbtacks).
Mr. Massey watched me at work for a few minutes (presumably because there were no ambulances in the immediate vicinity for him to chase) and made polite comments like, "Wow. I never could do something like that," and "That sure is amazing," as I performed simple point and click tasks on the computer. I wanted very badly to reply with something along the lines of "Thank you. And I must say I'm impressed with your ability to bilk the public out of every dime you can," but I doubt that would have been polite so I mostly just said the "Thank you," part and left it at that. In totally unrelated news, I will be attending (most likely) the open house for Crisis Pregnancy Center tomorrow night and expect to get arrested outside the Planned Parenthood Center that is located across the street. It may prove to be a great deal of fun. |
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Thursday, January 11, 2001 |
ninjaburger.com
I have disgraced my ancestors! The only way to make up for this dishonor is to purchase them a ninja burger! Special thanks to Brakyeller for pointing me to this great site. Be sure to check out the kid's menu and order something for a friend. |
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Wednesday, January 10, 2001 |
This was supposed to be posted yesterday but due to bizzare computer problems, it wasn't:
Okay. It snowed again today (Yesterday). Nothing stuck, of course. It came down in gorgeous flakes and people drove like they were in the Indy 500 with the exception of the fact that, in the Indy 500, you have less of a chance of dying in a near fatal car wreck.Anyway, I watched "Traffic" with John Mac monday and it was incredible. What was interesting, though, was watching the faces of the crowd as we left the theater. Usually, there's lots of talking and joking and so forth but these people were stunned. The film was so realistic, it almost seemed like they'd been watching the news and now they had somehow been confronted with facts and ideas they didn't quite know how to cope with. We're told daily that we're winning the drug war and that the drug war punishes criminals and saves users. But those are all lies. Anyway... I will be signing my posts as "E_B_A" just as Mildred is doing with his. Originally, we had intended the blue and red to be a distinction. We figured we didn't have to spell it out for people that red was one person and blue was another. Well, we were wrong. So, from this day forward, enjoy the easier-to-understand-who's-writing weblog. Tip your waitress and enjoy the buffet! I'll be here all week! -E_B_A |
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Friday, January 5, 2001 |
I think this page on bananadine.com references one of the pages in the violentnation.com 404 catacombs... But I can't find which one. - sir mildred pierce p.s. I'm signing all of my posts now, because I have noticed that repeatedly everyone in our little world seems to think that I am E_B_A. I know it is kind of confusing, all these names and different websites. So, I'm going to sign my posts (the ones in red). If they are in Blue then they are E_B_A. |
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Monday, January 1, 2001 |
Hey, I made a new song for the new millennium. Its called "Music is my Anonymous Reality". I'm releasing it under Kobayashi. I was working on it while the new millennium rolled into the Alaska time zone and just now finished it up. Its the quickest release I have ever done. It was kind of a rush song, but I was really into doing it and having something done for 2001. click here to download "music is my anonymous reality" by kobayashi I also updated bananadine.com and maybe there will be a popamericana update? -- sir mildred pierce |
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Saturday, December 30, 2000 |
Here's a helpful recipe for you bachelors out there. To make this delightful dish, you'll need one ounce of canned peanuts, two eggs, one tablespoon vanilla, a tea spoon of salt, two pieces of bread, a cup of water, a cup and a half of flour, and two table spoons of butter.
Carefully mix the water, flour, eggs, vanilla, butter, and salt until the mixture is nice and doughy. Stir in the peanuts. Get the two pieces of bread out and slowly spread the mixture on the bread. Then discard the entire mess. I was just trying to get you to waste your time, energy, and food for a selfish prank. Ha ha. |
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Friday, December 29, 2000 |
Here's an interesting list of all the band names I've made up while posting to this weblog...
Enjoy! Midget Standard The Starving Marlon Brandos Numb Butt Ninja Rod Vaporized Bambi Shoe Horn Fetish Aspiring Simian Poets Insane Chicken Bad Haiku Chicken Gun |
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Thursday, December 28, 2000 |
I think midgets should hire themselves out to frustrated people who always feel like punching something and then, at that exact moment the person feels like punching something, the midget can walk up and say "Punch me! Punch me!" and the person will feel bad about the whole situation and learn to cope with their anger. Or they'll just develope a habit of punching midgets whenever they get mad. Either way, it's positive, right?
Now I know there are some negative sides to this idea, and chiefly, there's the fact that it might make the midgets feel bad about themselves but as is usually the case when I'm confronted by someone pointing out such glaring flaws that spoil and otherwise perfect plan I have spent many dedicated hours of deliberation on, I tell that person in no uncertain terms to, and I quote, "SHUT UP!" really loudly and sometimes I also pout. Other flaws might include the fact that there are midgets in the world who get mad and feel like punching something so to help them out I say we hire bearded ladies for this purpose. Of course, these bearded ladies may have to walk on their knees everywhere so they are within punching distance, but such is the price of improving the world and my Midget-Punching Anger Management Agency could charge extra for this service. Some people might actually request the Bearded Lady Option instead of the Midget Standard or a special package that combines the two. Imagine this scenario: a young man has just been disenfranchised because the lady ahead of him in the Express Lane at the supermarket has wayyyyyy more than ten items or less in her cart. In fact, she has enough food in there to feed all of South Africa if it were populated by starving Marlon Brandos. Well, this guy gets angry and wants to punch something so he grabs his special Midget/Bearded Lady Whistle and signals for the two of them to step forward screaming "Punch me! Punch me! Punch me!" and then he feels bad. Or he punches both of them. Or he makes them punch the lady. Or each other. And I'd like to point out at this time that "The Bearded Lady Option," "Midget Standard," and "The Starving Marlon Brandos" all make wonderful band names. |
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Wednesday, December 27, 2000 |
I can't help but point out that whenever a car breaks down on the road, it always elects to do so in the left turn lane. Why is this? Are cars equipped with some mysterious sensor that, after being alerted to iminent engine failure, detects magnatized plates in the road that are placed strategically in every left turn lane and will initiate total system shut-down mode? I know this sounds like some psychotic, paranoid, delusional madman looney talk but I have bonafied proof from respected sources recognized and acknowledged by countless people around the world. That's right. The voices told me so. So there. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to sewing my mask of human flesh... | ||
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