Showing posts from October, 2004

Keep Hope Alive, Casino Workers

Near-busted a gut this morning in traffic after hearing that dear Jesse Jackson was traveling up to NJ to pray with some displaced casino workers... and truly, bless him, because I was unaware that God was cool with people finding their life's work in a gamblin' den. He should open an Employment Hotline for Out-of-Work Whores, Bookies, Highwaymen and Drunks, just to make sure no one's left out. I mean, think about it: if we don't care for our unemployed vice workers in this country, who will?

Gaping Maw Punkin Fu

I am AOL Expressions crazy. Meaning I jack with the font/wallpaper/sound/icon of my IM on a regular basis. Much to the dismay of my less fontabulous friends. However, there is now a pumpkin smiley available which, while cute, suffers from Gaping Maw Punkin Fu (i.e. it sits in the window, grinning as its toothless mouth lurches open repeatedly until you type it off the window). Maybe it's just an attempt to be cute/scary at once. If so, it succeeds.

Man, I miss reading Joe Bob Briggs in the newspaper. Fortunately, he has a website. If you miss him too, or if you know not of whence I speak, avail yourself of the glory of Joe Bob (aka John Bloom): Oh, and I stole the tacked-on "Fu" from him as well. And Gaping Maw Punkin Fu is fun to say. Try it a time or three.

French Rice

As a monument to the weariness of the working class, I give you the following: After work today, I went to a lovely eating place with a lovely pal o' mine and ordered a steak which had an accompanying choice of potato. To my ears, the description of the potato options sounded like, "Baked, mashed or French Rice." "French Rice," I replied. Seconds went by as I still didn't notice my IQ points slipping out one ear and pooling onto the floor. My friend pointed out, "I think he said French Fries." On later examination, the thought occurred to me that maybe when servers are taking your order, they're not writing down what you're asking for, but rather their opinion of you. In my case, the clean cut, helpful young man must've been scribbling "reTARDed" across his green and white lined pad. In any case, terminally exhausted of the world, you are my kin. I feel you.