I'm at the gym watching one of the 10 TVs, and here's what I see on this one show:
- a tomato
- a cucumber or a pickle wearing a baseball cap (I'm leaning towards pickle, because it just makes me snicker to think about it)
- what may have been a stalk of celery with a mustache and a captain's hat (no, not a Captain Morgan's hat ... don't I wish!)
- an onion wearing a floppy hat
All, naturally, were talking vegetables ... with lids ... wait, except the tomato. For some reason, the tomato was sans hat. Lidless, as it were. They were also organizing some mass production of chocolate rabbits. I figure either it's some sort of weird show, or someone put heroin in my pop tarts. Since I live in Baltimore, either situation has equal probability.
I'm putzing around on Myspace the other day, and there's this woman who has a username of "******* Magnet." I'm using the asterisks because this is a family blog ... well, except when I'm talking about hooters or Kiana or Kiana's hooters, which is most of the time. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. I'll give you a hint - that word starts with an A and rhymes with manhole. Hmm ... actually, it doesn't rhyme with manhole. It's probably pretty obvious by now that I missed my dose of Ritalin today, too.
So, I'm thinking ... let's say you're interested in this woman. You're pretty much screwed ... or not screwed, depending on your intentions. If you contact her ... well, I'm not sure about the properties of magnets, but I believe they attract things sometimes ... and she's the type that attracts things that almost rhyme with manhole. If you don't contact her, well, there ya go. Unscrewed. So, a fine choice of user names! Seriously, I'm not the only person that figures this stuff out, right?
My favorite bar, Portside, is turning 3 this weekend. If you really want to know how whack I am, consider this - last year, I was considering buying the bar a present for its birthday. You heard me. I was thinking maybe a nice picture for the wall, or something along those lines. I would've bought it a bottle of Captain Morgan's, but I was worried someone else might get the same thing, and how embarrassed would I have been then? In the end, I didn't do it ... probably because my tab at Portside was too high.
I'm going to clean out my basement next week. It should be a blast. Considering that I'm (1) pretty much afraid of spiders and (2) pretty much afraid of basements, it's going to be quite the thrill. Plus, I've got all of these "valuables" down there that I have to find a home for:
- a box full of VHS tapes. I mean, did the VCR go by the wayside in something like 2 weeks, or did I just fall asleep for a decade? I might have a hard time finding a buyer for "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey," which is highly underrated, by the by. "You have sank my battleship." Excellent! That's right, I just made the guitar riff noise/move just like Bill and Ted do.
- a box full of cassette tapes. Ok, I didn't sleep through that decade, but I still have 'em. As a bonus, I also have a box of "cassingles," which were about as popular as Richard Simmons at a Hell's Angels rally. If you don't know, cassingles were singles on cassette. It's also kind of wacky to just say cassingles. Try it. See? To give you an idea of my musical tastes of the time, I believe one of them is "Mercedes Boy" by Pebbles. Bam!
- Brian Bosworth's autobiography. 'Nuff said. And, yes, I read it. And, yes, I felt dumber after reading it. Thanks for playing, Bri!
- a poster of Sting (uh ... ok).
- a dining room chair ... not a set, mind you, just one chair. Before you ask, I haven't the slightest idea how I managed to have just one chair. I'm telling you, being me is an acquired skill.
I'm sure I'll have more to add to this list after the deed is done ... if I don't get kidnapped by spiders.
The new cat has a blistering case of "I Have To Be In The Next Room NOW" syndrome. Cat owners right now are nodding their heads and doing their impression of the Kool Aid man - oh yeah! 'Course, they're also picking cat hair out of their sandwich while nodding. Anyway, I believe the proper vet/medical term for this is What The Frick Syndrome or WTFS. It has to be, because that's my reaction when it happens. I also imagine her sprinting because she's late to a cat meeting:
Tiz: Sorry I'm late
Batman: No prob. Now, to business. Human Dude has been sleeping past our feeding time on certain days. This must be rectified.
Robin: I thought there was going to be food at this meeting? [note from me ... Robin's a tad chubby]
Tiz: Well, we've been waking him up at 6 am every ... hang on a sec ... ack ack ... [hurls on bed] ... sorry ... hairball [the others nod approvingly and admire the skill of doing it on the bed] ... um, every morning, isn't that enough?
Robin: Is that a kibble under your paw?
Batman: Not good enough. I propose a screeching fight at the corner of the bed around 7 every day until the feeding schedule is back on track.
Tiz: Done and done.
Robin: Did someone say feeding schedule?
- a tomato
- a cucumber or a pickle wearing a baseball cap (I'm leaning towards pickle, because it just makes me snicker to think about it)
- what may have been a stalk of celery with a mustache and a captain's hat (no, not a Captain Morgan's hat ... don't I wish!)
- an onion wearing a floppy hat
All, naturally, were talking vegetables ... with lids ... wait, except the tomato. For some reason, the tomato was sans hat. Lidless, as it were. They were also organizing some mass production of chocolate rabbits. I figure either it's some sort of weird show, or someone put heroin in my pop tarts. Since I live in Baltimore, either situation has equal probability.
I'm putzing around on Myspace the other day, and there's this woman who has a username of "******* Magnet." I'm using the asterisks because this is a family blog ... well, except when I'm talking about hooters or Kiana or Kiana's hooters, which is most of the time. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes. I'll give you a hint - that word starts with an A and rhymes with manhole. Hmm ... actually, it doesn't rhyme with manhole. It's probably pretty obvious by now that I missed my dose of Ritalin today, too.
So, I'm thinking ... let's say you're interested in this woman. You're pretty much screwed ... or not screwed, depending on your intentions. If you contact her ... well, I'm not sure about the properties of magnets, but I believe they attract things sometimes ... and she's the type that attracts things that almost rhyme with manhole. If you don't contact her, well, there ya go. Unscrewed. So, a fine choice of user names! Seriously, I'm not the only person that figures this stuff out, right?
My favorite bar, Portside, is turning 3 this weekend. If you really want to know how whack I am, consider this - last year, I was considering buying the bar a present for its birthday. You heard me. I was thinking maybe a nice picture for the wall, or something along those lines. I would've bought it a bottle of Captain Morgan's, but I was worried someone else might get the same thing, and how embarrassed would I have been then? In the end, I didn't do it ... probably because my tab at Portside was too high.
I'm going to clean out my basement next week. It should be a blast. Considering that I'm (1) pretty much afraid of spiders and (2) pretty much afraid of basements, it's going to be quite the thrill. Plus, I've got all of these "valuables" down there that I have to find a home for:
- a box full of VHS tapes. I mean, did the VCR go by the wayside in something like 2 weeks, or did I just fall asleep for a decade? I might have a hard time finding a buyer for "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey," which is highly underrated, by the by. "You have sank my battleship." Excellent! That's right, I just made the guitar riff noise/move just like Bill and Ted do.
- a box full of cassette tapes. Ok, I didn't sleep through that decade, but I still have 'em. As a bonus, I also have a box of "cassingles," which were about as popular as Richard Simmons at a Hell's Angels rally. If you don't know, cassingles were singles on cassette. It's also kind of wacky to just say cassingles. Try it. See? To give you an idea of my musical tastes of the time, I believe one of them is "Mercedes Boy" by Pebbles. Bam!
- Brian Bosworth's autobiography. 'Nuff said. And, yes, I read it. And, yes, I felt dumber after reading it. Thanks for playing, Bri!
- a poster of Sting (uh ... ok).
- a dining room chair ... not a set, mind you, just one chair. Before you ask, I haven't the slightest idea how I managed to have just one chair. I'm telling you, being me is an acquired skill.
I'm sure I'll have more to add to this list after the deed is done ... if I don't get kidnapped by spiders.
The new cat has a blistering case of "I Have To Be In The Next Room NOW" syndrome. Cat owners right now are nodding their heads and doing their impression of the Kool Aid man - oh yeah! 'Course, they're also picking cat hair out of their sandwich while nodding. Anyway, I believe the proper vet/medical term for this is What The Frick Syndrome or WTFS. It has to be, because that's my reaction when it happens. I also imagine her sprinting because she's late to a cat meeting:
Tiz: Sorry I'm late
Batman: No prob. Now, to business. Human Dude has been sleeping past our feeding time on certain days. This must be rectified.
Robin: I thought there was going to be food at this meeting? [note from me ... Robin's a tad chubby]
Tiz: Well, we've been waking him up at 6 am every ... hang on a sec ... ack ack ... [hurls on bed] ... sorry ... hairball [the others nod approvingly and admire the skill of doing it on the bed] ... um, every morning, isn't that enough?
Robin: Is that a kibble under your paw?
Batman: Not good enough. I propose a screeching fight at the corner of the bed around 7 every day until the feeding schedule is back on track.
Tiz: Done and done.
Robin: Did someone say feeding schedule?
posted by AxnJxn at 10:21 AM
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