tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-316068172024-03-07T13:04:57.565-05:00Eighty-Four GlydeWe're funny, so you don't have to be. (And face it, you weren't doing such a hot job anyway.)Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.comBlogger359125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-25583963906311753892020-10-30T13:37:00.000-04:002020-10-30T13:37:11.563-04:00There is a new fear<p> It comes late at night. It comes first thing in the morning. It comes with the moon. It comes with the sun. We don't control what scares us. We don't control what soothes us. Trust me on that. I'm on a whole bunch of meds. But there are still fears. Still the things that Come In The Night.</p><p>I wish I had an answer for fear. I think only Vin Diesel does. As a kid Zombies scared me the most. That's what I prepared against. But as I get older, everything scares me. I'm still in my 30s and I use a cane. I can fall over at anytime. </p><p>And sounds. Still the hairs on the back of my neck will rise when I am scared. And I'm always scared. You'd be a fool to not be. </p><p>What scares us is okay. Means we're human. But it does scare us. I've been terrified of Candyman for decades. </p><p>I\ve already done so many 84-Glydes about fear. I have just one question: what the fuck do pumpkins have to do with it? Sam Haim is lame. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-55029103537974693342020-09-24T17:37:00.000-04:002020-09-24T17:37:16.636-04:00 The Delivery Man Always Rings Twice<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWZKFEcMwIBp2Qj0vx87Jf2vA3YtQ3cpgPLBqGVsUZQt6oq0iI2YYFXN2yif_ZGYMxYClJ4PZ2eJoEbj-Z_iOi0C3xaKdUq8VYRdoypLmCPJCqto1Bm_zXwq4W2cSksPNiV3etg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="286" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWZKFEcMwIBp2Qj0vx87Jf2vA3YtQ3cpgPLBqGVsUZQt6oq0iI2YYFXN2yif_ZGYMxYClJ4PZ2eJoEbj-Z_iOi0C3xaKdUq8VYRdoypLmCPJCqto1Bm_zXwq4W2cSksPNiV3etg/" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“Howdy everybody, this is Joe for <b>Pizza Hut</b> and boy
do we have a deal for you. In these trying times we know it’s not easy for you
to leave the house to get food and we want to make things easier for you and
your family. So, for a limited time, your can order two pizzas with two
toppings and two sides for only $22.22.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhwEhdKL8BVFvXuv2V3AwEJsTpRwsyUaNZ-5AuV4iPgznrjwlY1uDj79fjqx_Xbb7GAuRall0AySFQeHC85Rebb1ZsGRSKxX7PWIQcGGm0spTqRNf16n5KaeeBfvsgbv13HZsBQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmhwEhdKL8BVFvXuv2V3AwEJsTpRwsyUaNZ-5AuV4iPgznrjwlY1uDj79fjqx_Xbb7GAuRall0AySFQeHC85Rebb1ZsGRSKxX7PWIQcGGm0spTqRNf16n5KaeeBfvsgbv13HZsBQ/" width="240" /></a></div><br />For your safety and the safety of our delivery personnel,
all food items will need to be paid for in advance by credit card and the food
will be left outside your door. Be sure to get it before an enterprising
neighbor shows up and gets a free meal!”<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGbSTn-EVTiZfZ54MEwdmqhLmgDemdfEfOwsGwxP_qid2iAvZKWoT_LsWXLGAfVItfM8OZ6OIn5aDtu5NRd4MeA_2gypBElKZTMEqLczOxsNCBrrkzkRAzz42fjajjbDHW4eSYw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="194" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMGbSTn-EVTiZfZ54MEwdmqhLmgDemdfEfOwsGwxP_qid2iAvZKWoT_LsWXLGAfVItfM8OZ6OIn5aDtu5NRd4MeA_2gypBElKZTMEqLczOxsNCBrrkzkRAzz42fjajjbDHW4eSYw/" width="180" /></a></div><br />“Hello everybody! Are you in the mood for some egg rolls?
Perhaps Moo Goo Gai Pan? Steak in brown sauce? (don’t ask me what’s in the
sauce, I don’t know myself, but am smart enough not to inquire.) Then have your
next meal delivered by <b>Hunan Express</b>! Our mostly-competent delivery
people will have most of your food out to you in 20 minutes and be gone before
you realize you’re missing half your order!<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">All of our delivery personal will be safely wearing masks
and gloves and won’t hesitate to physically interact with our customers. Or, at
least, we give them that equipment when they leave the store. If they’re still
wearing that crap by the time they get to your place is anybody’s guess! If
they aren’t and you’re feeling particularly salty, then don’t give them a tip!
They probably had a few bites of your food in the first place anyway. Even
steven!<o:p> </o:p>“</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQA2J73vyyI1iKarrToJKzNydLrCliNsdZ1m2SSrlDDFxZs3fQ6sXs9R2BlmKIf3oSqAam3ecok8Nfxjz29iLA5LCZf0sttGw19QnVYXfi3Pks3XwHPeJwuZXKhZ5JEOl7UGNxvg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="223" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQA2J73vyyI1iKarrToJKzNydLrCliNsdZ1m2SSrlDDFxZs3fQ6sXs9R2BlmKIf3oSqAam3ecok8Nfxjz29iLA5LCZf0sttGw19QnVYXfi3Pks3XwHPeJwuZXKhZ5JEOl7UGNxvg/" width="237" /></a></div><br />"Greetings America! Karen here. You know, things aren’t easy
these days. We’re all supposed to stay at home. Shelter in place. Almost as if
the country has been taken over by zombies! But it hasn’t! It’s been taken over
by great deals and savings for you! Act now and order from <b>Burger King</b>
delivery! Almost everything from our menu is available for delivery, from our
Whoppers to our chicken nuggets that only occasionally have fried roaches in
them (we’ve worked really hard on that front. The good news is that we’ve
minimized the number of severed fingers in each bag) our salads, milk shakes
and much more! You can even get those stupid paper crowns for the kiddies!<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Our delivery personnel are expertly trained to stand 50 ft
away from the entrance to your domicile and precisely throw the food at your
front door or through your window of choice. Now that’ll work up an appetite!”</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOUu8lqaeyT4EMdNvqMWUdXSRohTCqJ8OZbS7mvr46bEXpqfKevZinN7uQTN2oalPNA5JI0XTnJHDCOhFLAO21L7uZLioYrg_5HHbPIu0RkYgVHVMMP7wsaWzO8fqGkiLwtYn6g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="262" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeOUu8lqaeyT4EMdNvqMWUdXSRohTCqJ8OZbS7mvr46bEXpqfKevZinN7uQTN2oalPNA5JI0XTnJHDCOhFLAO21L7uZLioYrg_5HHbPIu0RkYgVHVMMP7wsaWzO8fqGkiLwtYn6g/" width="320" /></a></div><br />“Hey! Over here. Check it out. <b>McDonald’s</b> has been
losing money during this whole pandemic, and since there’s nobody we can sue
about it, we’ve gotta actually get up off of our cottage cheese asses to adapt
to the situation. So, we’re presenting “Covert Covid Delivery.” You call the
closest restaurant to you, (if our plans for world domination are on point,
there should be one at the end of your block) and make your order on our
automated system. That way you haven’t spoken directly to any of our employees
concerning food and we have complete plausible deniability.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Next, an employee of the restaurant, let’s call him “Nerg”,
will meet you at a public place for the handoff. It may be a public park, a gas
station bathroom, or even your front door (not likely). You give the money; you
get the food. Don’t expect any change, so be as accurate as you can. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was never here.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKg-XxmTGtmR1_pKGjCyHgzzddZFsjGE5RZVIn5Ys72GrrODTVvrIjCUcWFDCmGx8Aazh1XIMaUiSyidRVI2s16pnli4QvqMj2aMj-C72vVbBR_s-m0M9jhpnhV9vUrIBnwSf90w/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKg-XxmTGtmR1_pKGjCyHgzzddZFsjGE5RZVIn5Ys72GrrODTVvrIjCUcWFDCmGx8Aazh1XIMaUiSyidRVI2s16pnli4QvqMj2aMj-C72vVbBR_s-m0M9jhpnhV9vUrIBnwSf90w/" width="240" /></a></div><br />“Hey everybody. This is Mr. Brooks, for <b>Subway</b>, your
favorite neighborhood American sandwich shop run entirely by immigrants. We’re
going through some shit, aren’t we? People dyin’ left and right. I’m about to
be the last man on earth and Rebekah still won’t go out with me!<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, due to the lack of people leaving their houses,
Subway has decided to meet customers halfway. The process is simple, call and
make your order over the phone or online. Then, one of our employees will give
you geographic coordinates. Follow the coordinates and with a shovel (not
supplied) you’ll be able to dig up your still-fresh order. Put your money (in a
plastic bag please) in the hole and cover it back up. It’s as easy as that!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s a Brave New World.<o:p></o:p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-28288207835029270912020-09-22T09:30:00.000-04:002020-09-22T09:30:13.223-04:00Forgotten Heroes of Yore: Tor Johnson<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjui-SnSZyw6j4rysou1sFisk-JyQRUWR4CBr7AA9dxg-tCKnxfUtQd5kToNsdXwwgKBaUd1jYhKWgjHfYrTpBtcQe5qPv0GkNPxliriRCOsqtwnui9A9mVpBoHL9NVg8wpRxw7hA/s300/tor+mask.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjui-SnSZyw6j4rysou1sFisk-JyQRUWR4CBr7AA9dxg-tCKnxfUtQd5kToNsdXwwgKBaUd1jYhKWgjHfYrTpBtcQe5qPv0GkNPxliriRCOsqtwnui9A9mVpBoHL9NVg8wpRxw7hA/s0/tor+mask.jpg" /></a></div><br /> While the name Tor Johnson may not be well-known these days,
once upon a time, it was impossible to live without being well aware of his
exulted status. As a wrestler, actor and lover of the good life, he was the Mike
Tyson of the early 20<sup>th</sup> century. But much less of a woman-beater.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Born Torissa Jeanette Butterfly Johnson in Unpronounceable
Town*, Sweden in either 1902 or 1903, (historians are not sure and to be
honest, nobody cares in the slightest). A hefty 75 lbs. baby at birth, his
parents knew he was in for great things, like fighting elephants and pulling
trains with his teeth. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately, being such a large child made things
difficult for Tor. At school, the other kids would make fun of him for not
fitting through doorways and for breaking every school desk at which he sat. It
soon became unbearable for him and he started to lash out. After accidently
crushing the heads of four fellow classmates, Tor had the dubious distinction
of being the only ten-year-old sent to the general population of a major
Swedish prison. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After five years of running the institution with an iron
fist (up to 56 stabbings were attributed to either him personally, or his gang,
the <b>Meatballs</b>, but it has never been confirmed), Tor became the
unwilling participant in a nascent electro-shock therapy treatment. This
resulted in him drooling and only being able to say “I like Jell-O!” for five
months. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No longer deemed a threat to society, Tor was released back
home, to work at Ikea. Unhappy with his work, he promptly went on a spree of
robbing old, defenseless ladies. With the krona he stole, he hopped an
old-timey steamship and made his way to America to become rich and famous. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After waiting for the next American Class-C battleship
(nothing else could support his mighty weight and still float), Tor made it to
America, where he immediately wrestled to the ground the first person he saw, to
prove his dominance. Unfortunately, due to an error, that person happened to be
the Empire State Building and Tor immediately apologized for his naïve error as
a brand-new immigrant. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But it turned out that his error was actually an audition of
sorts. A wrestling promoter, Willy P. Grift, was at a nearby boiled shoe cart
(the owner had run out of hot dogs a few days ago and was waiting for his
weekly visit from the neighborhood dog catcher at 4 p.m.) enjoying a Florsheim
with extra mustard, when he saw what Tor had just done.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Grift ran up to Tor and introduced himself and his job. He
was able to convince Tor to join the wrestling circuit in the Midwest. Without
a buffalo nickel to his name, Tor agreed, which is how he became the “Super
Swedish Angel”! He gained instant fame as being the first wrestler to use a
prop during a match: he beat his opponent with the referee. It was
groundbreaking!<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After a few years of this, Tor made his way out west to
California, where he decided to try his hand at the porno industry, figuring
it’d be his ticket to fame. Under the name “Swedish Chef” Tor accidentally
crushed his scene partner with his mighty girth, in the first scene he ever
shot. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Disillusioned and destitute, Tor took to living on the
streets, tearing phone books and bicycles in half for spare change. This is
where famed transvestite movie director Ed Wood discovered Tor and instantly
saw the potential Tor had as an actor in his movies. So, he pulled Tor up by
his bootstraps, (figurately not literally, at 400 lbs ain’t nobody lifting that
dude!)<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Soon Tor was enjoying the fabulous Hollywood lifestyle:
Crystal in his Cheerios for breakfast, medium-rare baby panda in a bald eagle
sauce for lunch and Scarface-levels of cocaine for dinner. He had a house up in
the Hollywood Hills that could only be accessed by his own personal ski lift
gondola. He had six cars, but due to his size, he could not fit in any of them
and ended up just riding a hippo down Rodeo Drive when shopping.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Along with horror director Ed Wood, (nickname: <b>Glenda</b>)
and other terrible directors from the 30s through the 60s, Tor went on to make
such classics as: <i>The Meanest Man in the World, Ghost Catchers, Swing out
the Blues, Lost in a Harem, Alias the Champ, Dear Brat, Angels in the Outfield</i>
(?!), <i>You’re Never Too Young</i> (wink, wink), <i>Night of the Ghouls, Where
Are My Pants?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Head</i> (you know what
I’m talking about!), <i>The Unearthly</i> and of course, his most infamous
movie and biggest cash cow (sadly) <i>Plan 9 From Outer Space**, </i>the movie
about aliens using dead bodies to do…something? Invade? It’s never clear<i>.<o:p></o:p></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Tor had a long and storied movie career of mostly shuffling
around with his mouth agape, doing whatever Bela Lugosi told him to do for a
paycheck. Then, at the ripe old age of 68, Tor finally snapped his tethers and
climbed the Tower Records building, screaming like a banshee from hell, until a
plane shot him down. The crater his body left on Hollywood Boulevard was five
feet deep. He was survived by his wife Beefy Jane, and his kids Lothar the
Devastator and Kitten the Destroyer.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And now, a haiku:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>Tor is a monster<br />
He could snap you right in half<br />
But his back is out <o:p></o:p></i></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-81388502428406896222020-09-19T16:20:00.025-04:002020-09-19T16:20:00.124-04:00Selachimorpha Week<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX_gAUwySdENpIXRo75IxJ5NE-3dv6thu8ezJWMNKo9br8py62LUbtKiz8tFus0UGbtHUhVPyyhizv5gXUA7-YqzHkMfYncdPnaJOhx82SifG82KYNm7cQ3-LCCxlP1Cf0HqlBw/s1588/jaws.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1270" data-original-width="1588" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKX_gAUwySdENpIXRo75IxJ5NE-3dv6thu8ezJWMNKo9br8py62LUbtKiz8tFus0UGbtHUhVPyyhizv5gXUA7-YqzHkMfYncdPnaJOhx82SifG82KYNm7cQ3-LCCxlP1Cf0HqlBw/w380-h304/jaws.jpg" width="380" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Well, it’s
only been 8 million years, but I finally got a chance to watch Shark Week this past
summer. I accidentally</span><span style="font-size: large;"> turned to it one day while skimming the channels for Hentai
(you never know!) and ran into </span><i style="font-size: large;">Sharknado 85: The Sharkining</i><span style="font-size: large;">. Now those
damn movies have the characters traveling through time.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I dunno
guys, I was down with the silliness the first time, maybe even a little the second
time, (if you know me, you know my love of bad movies) but these movies are a
little too much in on the joke. Stupid for the sake of stupid can only go so
far. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway, I
found the whole week both boring and strangely fascinating. I mean, it’s just
hours upon hours of talking about sharks, and yet I was enthralled. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why are
there so many different types of sharks? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">The
famous Great White shark: just like Jaws*. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Hammerheads:
proof that God is messed up. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Sand
sharks: who like to build sand castles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Jabber
Jaw: he’s a real asshole.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span></span><span style="line-height: 107%;">Wobbegongs:
the drunkest of all sharks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Cow
sharks: who have udders and some of the finest milks.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Thresher
sharks: who kick around the sheets on the bed at night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Angular
Roughshark: this guy is a real square.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Sawshark:
who is available for work at reasonable rates.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 107%;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="line-height: 107%;">Street
Sharks: They’re radical dudes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so on and
so forth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There are
sharks who hide under the sand and wait for prey. Sharks who roll up to schools
of fish and just headbutt them until they get dizzy. Sharks who play drums in a
band. Sharks who fight crime. And other weird stuff. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">I heard that
if a shark comes at you, it’s because they’re sniffing you to see if you’re
food**. And you don’t need to be scared, you just punch them in the snout and
they run faster than a white person getting the scent of a pumpkin spice latte
a block away. I’m not sure that I believe it, but luckily, I’ll never have to
worry about it. I have no plans on going into deep bodies of water. See, I have
</span><span face="Arial, sans-serif" style="background: white; color: #202122; line-height: 107%;"><i><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thalassophobia">Thalassophobia</a></i></span>. That’s the fear of deep
bodies of water, (and sea monsters, seriously).<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Although
sharks are scary and shit, there are worse things in the sea. I personally hate
jellyfish. Those things are instant death! They wrap their tentacles around
your body and as you writhe in a pain you have never before experienced or
imagined, struggling to escape the poisonous hug of this feelingless, thoughtless
tool of Satan, it pulls you deeper under the water. That’s when you realize
your only escape is death, so you open your mouth and embrace of the taste of
the cool, salty water and convulse and writhe as your lungs fight for air. But
it is for naught and you close your eyes and breath your last, satisfied that
this death is better than whatever the jellyfish had planned***.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway,
other than the stupid ass Sharknado movies and the shows that featured famous
(or, semi-famous) comedians, I found Shark Week to be very redundant, (and repetitive****).
I’ve never really understood peoples’ fascination with sharks. I guess we are
drawn to the dangerous things that will kill us or bite our goddamn arms off. Because
we’re idiots. That’s why we climb Everest, or jump out of planes, or go bungee
jumping, or date Latinas. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I won’t
watch Shark Week next year. I get the premise. Instead, I’m going to wait for Monarch
Butterfly Week. Cause those are the silent killers. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>*Did you
know Jaws’ name is Bruce? Weird but a very true fact. Look it up. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>**I wonder
what a person would smell if they were able to sniff under water. I wonder what
Aquaman smells. <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>***This is
where the Hentai comes in. Unsavory!<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>****And does
the same thing over and over. </i></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-11746793710985870752020-09-15T14:34:00.002-04:002020-09-16T09:01:20.560-04:00PEACE, THE FINANCIALLY CRIPPLING WAY<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVJnxywuVhgpepCZWuQ_xNXG7friikhwuiqw-fj1rlz0WXCYYCiT60KriCkb4j7b62HUoqVo6sj_rJcS3CPS1mWiAnyKhZ2_f48czVGaeqvMmG6jvV-HfBgQC7Z-1hd7CBMzmmw/s362/khrisnas.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="218" data-original-width="362" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyVJnxywuVhgpepCZWuQ_xNXG7friikhwuiqw-fj1rlz0WXCYYCiT60KriCkb4j7b62HUoqVo6sj_rJcS3CPS1mWiAnyKhZ2_f48czVGaeqvMmG6jvV-HfBgQC7Z-1hd7CBMzmmw/w416-h251/khrisnas.jpg" width="416" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><i style="font-size: large;">Me</i><span style="font-size: large;">: Hi. Umm, is this where I do the seminar to meditate
and “activate my mental prowess” into having a larger wang?</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: Wang? We do not say “wang” my child. It is called “the
Most Holy Lord Marphus’ Gift unto his children.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Oh, that sounds much better. Very official. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: And yes. You are at the right place. Come in, my
child, and learn the joys and peace of life that Lord Marphus and his teachings
may bestow upon you. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Cool, cool. Will there be refreshments?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: Our teachings will nurture your mind and be the sustenance
your soul has always yearned for. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Okay?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: There will also be fig newtons and fruit punch. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Noice!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: Are you ready to receive the teachings of the
Blessed Lord Marphus into your heart and soul?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Sure. What do I do?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: The flyer for today’s event specified that you bring
your life savings and your measurements for a robe that will fit you. Have you
done as requested?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: You bet!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: Excellent! Come and sit and prepare yourself to
learn from the living voice of our Lord Marphus: Grand Poobah Slappy!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Slappy? Really?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Instructor</i>: It is so. When we join this sacred group, we are all
bestowed with a new mantle. For example, I’m Mary Poppins y’all. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Makes sense. Alright, let’s go.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">(five
minutes later, I’m seated on the floor with about 20 other people)<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah: </i>Welcome all of the Lord
Marphus’ children! I am Grand Poobah. Slappy and I bring you great tidings! Today
you have come here to learn and to be part of something greater that yourself.
For you here shall learn about the glorious, fluorescent way to the comforting
(and heaving) bosom of our Great Lord Marphus!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">First,
I just need a show of hands if everybody brought all of their money with them?
Don’t worry, if it’s in the form of a check, we have a machine to process them,
same for credit cards. The Lord requires us to be thorough. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">(all
hands are raised)<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah</i>: Wonderful! And so, we may
begin. Have you ever felt unloved? Nauseous? Gassy? Horny? Bewildered?
Bothered? Itchy? Upset stomach? Diarrhea? We will feel those inflictions no
longer, as the Lord Marphus accepts us into his loving and accepting arms. All
physical pain, money worries, hair-loss, undersized wangs…<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: I KNEW IT!!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah</i>: …No interruptions please. As
I was saying, with his love, you will find peace and happiness. All you must do
is give in completely to his whims and embrace his teachings fully. And I am here
to help you cross into a new and all-encompassing utopia. And to be able to
make this happen, we’re gonna have y’all line up so we can take, I mean accept,
your financial donations and measure you for your robes. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Um, Slappy? Exactly what are Lord Marphus’ teachings?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah</i>: What is your name son?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: It’s Josh.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah</i>: No longer. You shall be known
as PITA.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: PITA?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Grand
Poobah</i>: Yes, my child. “Pain In The
Ass”. Now get line with the rest of the sheep…I’m mean Children of Love and
Light. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: You got it!<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">(<i>six
months later</i>)<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Hey Fuzzy, tell me again why we’re here at the
airport?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fuzzy</i>: We are here to discover more Children of Love to
embrace the teachings of Lord Marphus and return with us to the compound to
begin the learning process. Just as we did. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Gotcha. And why are so many people laughing and
spitting on us? Is it the robes? Cause I just purified mine in the waters of
Lake Minnetonka. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fuzzy</i>: They are unwise and unwilling to accept love into
their hearts. Worry not PITA, the right Children shall come with us. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: I sure hope it’s soon, that last guy just spit a
mouthful of tobacco juice in my face. It’s dripping down and now I can taste
the inside of his mouth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fuzzy</i>: Just be patient and all bliss will come unto us. Trust
in our Blessed Lord, praise be unto him. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me</i>: Right. Praise be unto him. It better not take too long;
this damn hemp underwear is itchy and giving me worst wedgie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Fuzzy</i>: Here’s somebody! Excuse me brother, would you like
to learn the teachings of our Lord Marphus and how you can be saved?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Guy
at Airport walking briskly past</i>: Get
away from me, weirdo. You smell like a hobo’s unwashed crotch.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Me
yelling after him</i>: Don’t worry man. It
may all not be true. I still don’t know how to get a bigger dick!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
Man, this cult sucks balls!</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhkqVMglq_9yet0kDMArU85Zz3pxFDLELTnXlNI-FyvicgEUG8m-1u-v87mcevhknvTySk5Ty0IE9nhNEqyLAERpZbRbSVMUDUYfQyG5HTKxN1umG02LpAnSL7BQTb8tSecKvcA/s642/hare-krishna-costume.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="642" data-original-width="475" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzhkqVMglq_9yet0kDMArU85Zz3pxFDLELTnXlNI-FyvicgEUG8m-1u-v87mcevhknvTySk5Ty0IE9nhNEqyLAERpZbRbSVMUDUYfQyG5HTKxN1umG02LpAnSL7BQTb8tSecKvcA/s320/hare-krishna-costume.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-24962806829377670272020-04-14T10:57:00.002-04:002020-04-14T10:57:28.842-04:00There’s Bird On My Window Sill<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a bird<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It will not leave<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is stupid<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can relate<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s eating something<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’d like to know what<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I tap on the glass it looks the other way<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stupid bird<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But these times make for strange bedfellows.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I lost a fish and gained a bird.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What do I name him?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-10262053971304276962020-04-03T14:30:00.000-04:002020-04-03T14:40:39.383-04:00Moisturizing for Dummies<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FvCrz8KdmE1dWiXxc6RvqT1i2XQjAUT_uhATUavCthGugJB2PytboGMDhbBIN0wyPfzVclVTLEslvPlnbbsSLrZZANZP76dmijRO4TJOETcFkRgv7noQa5c-QOWm-zc__7dwEQ/s1600/lotion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="292" data-original-width="403" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4FvCrz8KdmE1dWiXxc6RvqT1i2XQjAUT_uhATUavCthGugJB2PytboGMDhbBIN0wyPfzVclVTLEslvPlnbbsSLrZZANZP76dmijRO4TJOETcFkRgv7noQa5c-QOWm-zc__7dwEQ/s320/lotion.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">This is an article I wrote a little while back for a newspaper, that was never picked up. So I figured somebody should get to read it anyway!. Names have been changed to protect the ashy.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m guilty, I admit it.
I’m ashamed, but I’m ready to admit my mistake and move forward.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have recently been informed that I’ve been slacking far
too much on my lotion game. In that I don’t moisturize and I really should,
considering that I’m only growing older. Now, that’s not to say that I have
skin the texture of 40 grit sandpaper, but time and gravity make fools of us
all. A friend of mine took great pains in telling me all this.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You need to lotion up every day!” Dana said, emphasizing
each word with a clap of her hands.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But I’m a guy! Like, every day?” I uttered. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Every. Single. Day.” She said. “Even guys.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What parts?” I asked squeamishly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Your entire body,” she replied, eyes rolling in surprise at
my ignorance. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s when it hit me: I was entirely ignorant of the
world of lotioning. So I decided to do some research. I needed to delve deeper
into the viscous, goopy, velvety world of lotions. The first thing to do was to
figure out why using lotion is important for men as well as women.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Lotion is of critical importance to prevent that
uncomfortable itchy feeling that comes from dry skin,” said Reed. “In my youth
I had a skin condition where if my skin was dry, it was really pronounced. It
looked like leopard spots.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think it’s part of normal hygiene and from that
perspective it’s important,” Kim said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ash is whack!” proclaimed Kristen. “Who wants to get
scratched holding hands on a romantic stroll through the park, or cut by
sandpaper feet under the covers?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no shortage of lotions on the market available to
guys. A short jaunt down the lotion aisle of your local drug store will
introduce you to a plethora of lotion options. There are lotions to rejuvenate,
balms to tighten skin, ointments to get rid of dark spots, creams to
moisturize, salves to make wrinkles disappear, preparations for pimples and
palliatives for your pallor. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC1nHYtEr5vM9-aiFJQTlEwL0fPd3hakDOtEqFxfsZWBi8nz83x64k0IJPNhgQ6BFjC_PGlMh8j05j6Oho1IHqRIYo-vo04_SR2y4xbDIZBTBqU_D-Rm_7us25at4rQl0FMCrvw/s1600/cocoa+butter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="307" data-original-width="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcC1nHYtEr5vM9-aiFJQTlEwL0fPd3hakDOtEqFxfsZWBi8nz83x64k0IJPNhgQ6BFjC_PGlMh8j05j6Oho1IHqRIYo-vo04_SR2y4xbDIZBTBqU_D-Rm_7us25at4rQl0FMCrvw/s1600/cocoa+butter.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And if that wasn’t mind-boggling enough, then you have to
sort through scented and unscented creams. As a guy, I felt that I needed to
defer to the fairer sex for the best way to tackle this situation.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I prefer light, manly scents. Something that doesn’t
conflict with his cologne,” Nicole said. “My opinion is it’s better to be
unscented than to smell like a cheap man.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Light, neutral scents are fine (on a man) but
overly-scented or floral are definitely out. I’m prone to very simple and basic
ones, like shea butter or soap,” Kim said. “I find that heavy scents make my
head hurt, I think it’s a sinus trigger. I don’t like scents that linger.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It seemed that lightly perfumed, manly-scented lotions were
the way to go. Smells like pine, or cocoa butter, or fir, or leather, perhaps
evergreen or even conifer, were preferable. But nothing that smelled fruity or
flowery. Next, I needed to learn where and when men typically apply, or should
apply, lotion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I do mostly upper body. In the winter, I make a more
concerted effort to get my legs, “Reed said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Lotion application is following a
shower and once I’m completely dry. Or in most cases, I use lotion at work.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“My ex usually applied to his face, head, arms and hands
every morning after he showed.” Cherry said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jeremiah uses lotion daily, usually after his shower and he
applies to his arms and legs most of the time,” Nicole said. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s typically after a shower. Ryan does lotion his hands
more often during the winter months.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kristen said. “There should be some pride
in general appearance.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I use it when I need it,” said Juan. “After a shower or
before I get dressed. Face lotion after I shave, hand lotion whenever I need
it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On the other, unlotioned hand, some people see the lotion
industry as a trap they refuse to fall into.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Lotion is important for most people, but for all the wrong
reasons in my opinion. The personal hygiene industry has been telling us that no
one will be with you if you don’t smell like an Irish spring or some other
nonsense most of our lives,” Mike offered. “The human body usually produces the
oil it needs to stay healthy. If you’re always washing away the natural oils
that your body secretes, you’re going to need lotion more often.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After exhaustive research, I discovered that guys,
regardless of age, race or geographical location, should invest in a bottle or
tube of lotion. Something that invigorates the skin with essential oils and
nutrients. Something lightly-scented that smells like you just rubbed a
Christmas tree all over your body. A heavier cream in the winter to combat dry
skin and the always annoying winter itch that people get, and a lighter cream
in other seasons.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Guys should attempt to moisturize after showers, while still
damp. Also, the lotion should be rubbed in deeply so that it doesn’t end up
being too greasy or slippery. Nobody likes a person with the faint sheen of
lubricant all over them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Armed with my newfound knowledge, I vow to go forth to live
a moister, more smooth life and to spread the good word of lotion to other men,
like some sort of Johnny Lotionseed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK8_LyGXgFW6fYlkUuF46QGYwUEbhcJPNJ60LX8IWrEdz4WQ4eDcXaKDywtRloBAv2V8Hvtu_ZxKLoOSIxrjsVd9yVeUZRr6Po9bUwYtvqOSVdzdn04wEkTGfftjOnCxAnI1GRA/s1600/bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="276" data-original-width="376" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAK8_LyGXgFW6fYlkUuF46QGYwUEbhcJPNJ60LX8IWrEdz4WQ4eDcXaKDywtRloBAv2V8Hvtu_ZxKLoOSIxrjsVd9yVeUZRr6Po9bUwYtvqOSVdzdn04wEkTGfftjOnCxAnI1GRA/s320/bill.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-11858851707420418812020-04-02T13:51:00.001-04:002020-04-02T13:51:55.810-04:00When This Is All Over, I’m Gonna…<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_vhoPO_uF7FBG1UBv_CUxwcDIvazikB4ECPnf812hkF-suFG3oN48BvMzbNx0D4Wsqb_XrvISW5vybQmuAT5NMudxkbx9cA-IZdgwIghOQtwe6JgW8a6-EuddRq-KS81kGbXdw/s1600/curtains.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="286" data-original-width="440" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_vhoPO_uF7FBG1UBv_CUxwcDIvazikB4ECPnf812hkF-suFG3oN48BvMzbNx0D4Wsqb_XrvISW5vybQmuAT5NMudxkbx9cA-IZdgwIghOQtwe6JgW8a6-EuddRq-KS81kGbXdw/s320/curtains.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hey, you guys wanna hear a secret? I’m jumping on this hawt
new craze called “social distancing”. It’s pretty new, so you probably haven’t
heard about it yet. It’s okay, don’t feel bad, not all of us have our fingers
on the pulse of society and things that are cool like I do. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, from what I understand this social distancing means to
stay away from people. Fair enough, that just means I don’t have to bother with
showers anymore (thank Jesus!) and I get to hang out at home all day watching
cartoons and repeats of <i>Psych</i>. I think it also means that I’ve got to do this
for at least the month of April. No biggie. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lzL6Ic18PQKvE-Y0uQbBTOEZHNaUFkN7NmLePIBu5IMIw1gRro9vc3DIzajixvAwjo4UX7IvoNSGrNQ7kon4sQEit-6NVa09idZbw0GGbwhfUbZ2X4AIKQKpmxdTwksUV2a7MQ/s1600/caution.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="423" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0lzL6Ic18PQKvE-Y0uQbBTOEZHNaUFkN7NmLePIBu5IMIw1gRro9vc3DIzajixvAwjo4UX7IvoNSGrNQ7kon4sQEit-6NVa09idZbw0GGbwhfUbZ2X4AIKQKpmxdTwksUV2a7MQ/s320/caution.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the question arises: what am I gonna do when this is all
over? Well, the sky’s the limit!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can tell you what I’m not going to do. I’m not going to
any restaurants. Them shits’ll be packed full of people tired of having cooked
for themselves for a month (God forbid!) or ordering delivery from GrubHub or
FoodDood or ChowCow? I feel bad for restaurant servers and cooks. They’re going
to be up to their elbows to whinny, self-entitled twats for at least two weeks
following this ordeal. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Likewise, I’m not going to the movies. Not only will the
theaters be packed for every movie, including Veggie Tales 5 The Veggining, or
whatever, but most good movies have already been released on VOD or streaming
services. The rest have been pushed back, some up to a <i>year</i>! I gotta
wait a year to see Dom and Lettie and figure out how the hell Han is still
alive!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s a no go on Disney World or any other amusement
park. I can’t stand people at the best of times, put me in a crowded venue full
of shirtless, sweaty people with red, sun-burned skin and I’ll pull my impression
of a 90s postal employee.* In fact, anything that involves large groups of
people is a hard pass for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcgt-PTaKW_Bkpzl5b3RRjKLtpahefM1PSHpDr1iKD7IAZB1gTd4AOoGacr2_j7cxdCCeBdKEnZvxxxREfK4ktRQPvWsISJEstj0tsLgnXqVfp7OGSHgnHfshe8ZsHfx3fEfaYA/s1600/postal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="243" data-original-width="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcgt-PTaKW_Bkpzl5b3RRjKLtpahefM1PSHpDr1iKD7IAZB1gTd4AOoGacr2_j7cxdCCeBdKEnZvxxxREfK4ktRQPvWsISJEstj0tsLgnXqVfp7OGSHgnHfshe8ZsHfx3fEfaYA/s1600/postal.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Instead, I’m going to do a nice little tradition of mine,
the Aimless Road Trip. This is where I hop in my car, pick a cardinal direction
and just drive that way for a few days, always staying off major highways,
always sleeping in crappy motels that probably have dead hookers stashed in the
mattresses. No actual destination, so no rush to get there. Cruise the vistas. That’s
the life for me! I once got lost in the Blue Ridge Mountains for a week! I
loved it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh01sDZJW47acj2pd3ok6Rp4XzDtH-o3A0eY9lH-NyJsVGKo_iiaGWTm2wQd4ouRlGkG9sq5oAR8VfgPUgX1b8DGhpwnh9QHxW7tXLJ22fnSCpdsFh09CCboI5c82VYSNlDNPbR2g/s1600/vistas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="271" data-original-width="408" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh01sDZJW47acj2pd3ok6Rp4XzDtH-o3A0eY9lH-NyJsVGKo_iiaGWTm2wQd4ouRlGkG9sq5oAR8VfgPUgX1b8DGhpwnh9QHxW7tXLJ22fnSCpdsFh09CCboI5c82VYSNlDNPbR2g/s320/vistas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You really get to see rural, small-town America in all its racist
glory that way. So historic! So educational! I drive down quaint little main
streets and eat at diners run by guys named Mel with waitresses (not servers)
named Flo and shit like that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It will be interesting to see what happens when this is all
over. The country is going to go apeshit. So many people have to get their jobs
back, or get new ones. Some companies are just going to fold completely.
Speaking of hookers,(and who wouldn't want to?) do they follow the quarantine? Is business slow for them,
or even better? Do they test each john before a session? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All very important questions. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, I gotta go now. I’m up to two and a half naps per day
and I’m trying to hit four before Easter gets here. What are you going to do
when this is all over?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>*Remember that? Remember when going “postal” was a thing?
What happened to that?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-54195665392315375222020-04-01T12:54:00.000-04:002020-04-01T12:54:32.060-04:00Playthings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq30xHvISuZfu2kOYWGvseKEbBLIEgx5iUJvHqDEHPlJyBCHVSdFTjuOPZN_BCtuWNH_rRYUnd6lqAZEbM17MccCTEViD1vx_C82b78tCiDnRPwk9fFjVF4wudBKMRyYkuZc9rKw/s1600/heman.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="636" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq30xHvISuZfu2kOYWGvseKEbBLIEgx5iUJvHqDEHPlJyBCHVSdFTjuOPZN_BCtuWNH_rRYUnd6lqAZEbM17MccCTEViD1vx_C82b78tCiDnRPwk9fFjVF4wudBKMRyYkuZc9rKw/s320/heman.png" width="203" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since time immemorial, children (and some adults) have
entertained the many boring hours of their lives with toys. From tin cans to <i>Back
to The Future</i> style hoverboards, (They’re out there, believe me. But only
the rich have access to them) kids love toys! And with out current
sequestration, I have ample time to look at toys, both from my past and historical
past. Let’s play!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Toys are old. They’re as ancient as your mom’s pubes, (which
have been carbon-dated to the dawn of man). Even early cavemen had stick dolls
and rock Nintendos. The oldest known doll is dated at 4,000 years old. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In fact, dolls were the most prevalent form of early toys.
This is most likely because girls were actually the ones who played with toys
and dolls, while the boys were out hunting woolly mammoths and growing hair on
their elbows. Early materials for dolls included wood, rock, clay and poly-carbonate
plastic if you were lucky. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Early toys weren’t just used for playing, they were also
tools for development. They helped children understand how to interact with
others, both children and adults and how to interpret the world around them. As
well as what Barbie looks like when you cut off her hair. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAls1hEm6RE7Iv8D7YdEeJsVAP9yPpsEZbCpJRyWY6s4I0CkZOub3_DxvIVcyE8WRcAjAsxYtH6pEQAOUefrpJd7zewjf6C4QhKWhJ_CgwvRK_W81XgvIzm_XK9lq-zN2yVAuIg/s1600/barbia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="450" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAls1hEm6RE7Iv8D7YdEeJsVAP9yPpsEZbCpJRyWY6s4I0CkZOub3_DxvIVcyE8WRcAjAsxYtH6pEQAOUefrpJd7zewjf6C4QhKWhJ_CgwvRK_W81XgvIzm_XK9lq-zN2yVAuIg/s320/barbia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The word “toy” can be traced as far back as the 14<sup>th</sup>
century, although nobody knows its origins. It’s shrouded in mystery and
intrigue, many archeologists with whips have attempted to hunt down the source
of the word, only to disappear into the void on the Island of Misfit Toys,
never to be seen again.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Toys have been unearthed in Ancient Greece, Egypt, Mesopotamia
and the Indus Valley. Typically, these toys were small wagons, dolls, whistles
and (no joke) yo-yos. The first mechanical puzzle appeared in 3<sup>rd</sup>
Century BCE Greece. I’m not entirely sure what a mechanical puzzle is, but that
sounds kinda neat, right? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fast forward to the 1700s. Toy making was becoming a booming
business, but only for the hoity-toity. Toymakers catered to the rich, because
all of their toys were custom made and very intricate. Just like the ones that
bastard Herr Drosselmeier* used to make. Their dolls would often be made of porcelain,
with the highest quality fabrics for dresses, horse hair, glass eyes and <b>HUMAN
HEARTS</b>! Well, maybe not that last part, but the dolls were, to a degree, a
status symbol. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAavmHRpcgb5U5h1HaCixcKgqAt5hKYG5P4fRYNHX19y337QpbPS3Fnq7wf6gYMZRz0u1_p9-os4yGtingNxKwitnuXgeRNBpxgG46Ufe4Qkeb8G6b2kD8X0qwFfP0swcd_e8Yag/s1600/doll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAavmHRpcgb5U5h1HaCixcKgqAt5hKYG5P4fRYNHX19y337QpbPS3Fnq7wf6gYMZRz0u1_p9-os4yGtingNxKwitnuXgeRNBpxgG46Ufe4Qkeb8G6b2kD8X0qwFfP0swcd_e8Yag/s1600/doll.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Other ye olde timey toys that our ancestors played with
include, but are not limited to: jigsaw puzzles, models, board games, hoops(?)
bows and arrows, kites, rocking horses, kaleidoscopes, puppets(!), toy soldiers
and that ever popular horror movie staple, the zoetrope. And this was all
before the 20<sup>th</sup> century, those luck bastards!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Early 20<sup>th</sup> century brought us those classics we
know and sometimes vaguely remember: silly putty, Play-Doh, slinky, Legos,
Barbie, G.I. Joe, lawn darts, Red Rider BB Guns, toy cars, rubber balls, jacks
and other boring shit like that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Toys can be divided into 8 major categories and to be
honest, I wonder whose job it was to do that. You’ve got Construction Sets,
like your Legos, your Erector Sets, models, Lincoln Logs, piles of baloney
slices, etc. Then there’s Dolls and Miniatures, this includes stuffed animals,
actions figures, voodoo dolls and the like. Next there’s Vehicles. That’s where
you’ll find Hot Wheels, remote controlled vehicles, wind-up toys and model
trains, which, to be honest are more for adult men than children.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then there’re Puzzles, like Rubik’s Cubes, mazes, Chinese
Finger Cuffs (you know what I’m talking about!) and so on. Next is
Collectibles. These aren’t for playing with as much as just…collecting. I want
you to take five minutes right now and go up to the nearest person you know who
collected Beanie Babies and laugh in their stupid faces! A wise investment is
to do what I did and collect all your Happy Meal toys from the 80s, them shits have
value. Up next is Promotional Merchandise. These are toys that are usually
tie-ins to events, movies, sporting teams or cross-promotional, synergetic blah
blah blah. For some reason, lunch boxes also count in this category, although I’ll
be damned if somebody is going to convince me that a lunch box is a toy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglAuSkHfEahTzJSXL4J-bfPHNudJ_aWdrr5jD7hnDwjxZSTSrkHPfp_ChMEkik6UwRnkuKybE3EfUKq3XZ42lXuh1JRURCiRV3evZfbBblgDBpCyi25AsnTJyZyrAp44joLHSrxA/s1600/lunchbox.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="387" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglAuSkHfEahTzJSXL4J-bfPHNudJ_aWdrr5jD7hnDwjxZSTSrkHPfp_ChMEkik6UwRnkuKybE3EfUKq3XZ42lXuh1JRURCiRV3evZfbBblgDBpCyi25AsnTJyZyrAp44joLHSrxA/s320/lunchbox.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Moving on, there’s Digital Toys. This one explains itself.
You either need to plug it in or insert batteries. Tamagotchis need not apply.
Lastly there’s Physical Activity. We’re talking BALLS! All types of balls. Big
balls, small balls, red balls, blue balls. Round balls, ovoid balls. Smooth
balls and rough balls. Also, frisbees, pucks, jump ropes, skates and if you are
a true loser, hackey sacks.**</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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By the way, the secret ninth category is cardboard boxes.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As a child of the 80s, I consisted almost entirely on action
figures and all of my action figures were tie-ins with Saturday morning
cartoons. In fact, some of them had the toy come first and the cartoon was
based around them. The most famous of these is, of course, the Man of Hes. The quintessential
80s boy cartoon/action figure. There’s no quicker way to make a young boy
question his nascent sexuality than by handing him a shirtless dude in a loin
cloth for him to play with.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Hasbro toy company ruled the 80s with an iron fist. From
He-Man and She-Ra, to G.I. Joe to Transformers, there’s no small pieces of plastic
they saw that they couldn’t make obscene amounts of money from. And God bless
them for it! They made me who I am today. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiph52XEeABmXoaqt2vTX9thmPsS6KnX5PMMcPSERROzympyQB6S20zkJVz740T2juXjP9yOPFc4mvI3x0-xj1PLc7jxo3tX5k4vfxY-lljLFgQwda3qQ6GgBdya1ZYhlEQneuhWA/s1600/hasbro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="250" data-original-width="450" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiph52XEeABmXoaqt2vTX9thmPsS6KnX5PMMcPSERROzympyQB6S20zkJVz740T2juXjP9yOPFc4mvI3x0-xj1PLc7jxo3tX5k4vfxY-lljLFgQwda3qQ6GgBdya1ZYhlEQneuhWA/s320/hasbro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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As I sit here in isolation, I take the time to ponder the
history of toys and what they mean to me and my formation as a grown ass
man-child. I enjoy toys. Always have, always will. Kind of like Robin William in
the movie…<i>Toys</i>. I have many favorites and many happy memories of
creating giant action figure wars on Saturday mornings, cartoons running in the
background as I run around yelling “Pew! Pew! Pew!” and making figures fall
over. The halcyon days indeed.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what are your favorite toys?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<i>Deep cut!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>**But mostly BALLS!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-20660748601810967562020-03-31T14:08:00.002-04:002020-03-31T14:08:24.572-04:00The Shut-in Workout You Didn’t Know You Needed!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rNfiGKWCW5UOE9ESgiwIt8QfRP0sEMa0McKFnu8Ii9jsX3hNcsyJpnZiYp8m8oQkODo3jbXq2gO3c8jOchipUOmcFz2o1rSKmXg0JkNUdT6CMUVELuho54SAP0LY5zD0VTmMcA/s1600/weight.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="450" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2rNfiGKWCW5UOE9ESgiwIt8QfRP0sEMa0McKFnu8Ii9jsX3hNcsyJpnZiYp8m8oQkODo3jbXq2gO3c8jOchipUOmcFz2o1rSKmXg0JkNUdT6CMUVELuho54SAP0LY5zD0VTmMcA/s320/weight.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s up fellow prisoners! Broceps here, lead trainer at <i>Club
Torquemada</i>, and I’m pumped today to share an exciting workout that I have
personally developed that you can do from within your very own domicile, or wherever
you happen to be currently trapped. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Using the latest in core training, while incorporating Yoga,
(including Bikram) as well as Mongolian contortionism, Inuit whale-stalking,
Seminole pole-dancing and French leg-crossing, I have created a spectacular
routine that will get the blood flowing, the muscles moving and the heart
pumping. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Before we get started, you’ll have to gather some tools.
While some of you may have weights and the proper equipment, some of you may
not. So I decided to simplify things as much as possible. He’s what you’re
going to need set up in front of you for this INSANE! Workout. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
1.Four cement blocks<br />
2.Two two-gallon milk jugs. One filled with water. One filled with milk that
you left outside overnight.<br />
3. A cactus<br />
4. One Jenga set, already set up <br />
5. One large pizza, the works<br />
6. A goat (if you don’t have a goat, three cats will do)<br />
7. 6’x2’ worth of sandpaper<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Ok, are we ready? Let’s get started. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First, you’re going to clear enough space on the ground to
put the sand paper down. That will be your workout matt. Then, it’s time to get
naked. This way you can better see the muscles and tendons flex during the
workout. Let’s start with some stretches. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGT03o1Emaq1F0M7QZpNniFiIagTMVvfXYMxPttPNXuZGxKdYtGFpsgnv6MTWrs-m3WuTIqBvru6nrs8lBOEOjTIkpVPaAYlboP_j-bm0H8E7Sm_t7QPhIYNa4-_PNniwrrQScA/s1600/corpse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="357" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGT03o1Emaq1F0M7QZpNniFiIagTMVvfXYMxPttPNXuZGxKdYtGFpsgnv6MTWrs-m3WuTIqBvru6nrs8lBOEOjTIkpVPaAYlboP_j-bm0H8E7Sm_t7QPhIYNa4-_PNniwrrQScA/s320/corpse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>The Corpse</u>: Lay down on your back. Now, with you
hands down by your sides, palms down, I want you to lay there, counting to 50. Turn
onto your stomach and repeat.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9MjkVw0iItMGcXP-lBnlEYOM3C5D83OiP7UlGX1rMg33ZU7-O5V-Di2Ii7zffxLUarCcb-VRhFenrWeJVXR42h9_y1sekM4cn7iRjfYlX3pp9XGQpXecCG7CAKIC8CwT2BYYHg/s1600/angel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9MjkVw0iItMGcXP-lBnlEYOM3C5D83OiP7UlGX1rMg33ZU7-O5V-Di2Ii7zffxLUarCcb-VRhFenrWeJVXR42h9_y1sekM4cn7iRjfYlX3pp9XGQpXecCG7CAKIC8CwT2BYYHg/s1600/angel.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>The Snow Angel</u>: While still on your stomach, spread
your arms and legs outward, while keeping as much of the surface of your body
in contact with the floor as possible, count to 47. Flip over and repeat. Can’t
you feel your muscles contracting and loosening?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeW1TYPzesf5SJESS2r4M8pK7rcHyOacsTTsrrHkCdDLzlCu2rwDW3lQnAgEsWBlNC4qu-ovW9sy2BiEecHAnQPJPpFvxZ0KHbyJBNta3v8B53f364PtpNKcsC3IBxxZzzBcjS4Q/s1600/teen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="245" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeW1TYPzesf5SJESS2r4M8pK7rcHyOacsTTsrrHkCdDLzlCu2rwDW3lQnAgEsWBlNC4qu-ovW9sy2BiEecHAnQPJPpFvxZ0KHbyJBNta3v8B53f364PtpNKcsC3IBxxZzzBcjS4Q/s320/teen.jpg" width="173" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u>The Angsty Teen</u>: This stretch requires a wall or some
other vertical surface. Approach the surface and lean your back against it to
whatever degree feels comfortable to you. As you lean against the wall begin to
ponder how mean your parents are to you, how much school sucks and you can’t
wait to move out! Relax, take a deep breath and repeat. Leg up optional.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Alright, warm up complete! How’d that feel? Get a nice sweat
going? Good, time to work out! It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
!. Grab two of those cinder blocks place them approx. three
feet apart. You’re going to sit on one and rest your feet on the other, so pick
whatever distance is comfortable for you. Bring over the cactus and the other
two blocks, place a block on either side of you. Sit down on the first block,
resting your feet on the second. Take the cactus and place it on your lap. Take
cinder blocks three and four in each hand. Now do as many block lifts as you
can, with the cactus on your crotch until you collect at least a teaspoon of
blood from the punctures wounds. Be sure to keep your arms straight the whole
time! You should be able to do a quick and easy 250 lifts with this. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_CGzEvtB2DqsxwI8tHxWk85n8wgqzzIqD65EE84CtO_-Jzk5uSA2cIKmuEN2GMX0FVp-J898xe5VCeOGwQGHqbBtlFfr0szVnjUI90PHt1iF8neC6P4_kdt631us4_6YiNCpQw/s1600/cactus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-_CGzEvtB2DqsxwI8tHxWk85n8wgqzzIqD65EE84CtO_-Jzk5uSA2cIKmuEN2GMX0FVp-J898xe5VCeOGwQGHqbBtlFfr0szVnjUI90PHt1iF8neC6P4_kdt631us4_6YiNCpQw/s1600/cactus.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2. Alright, set all that stuff aside and shake it off. Next
go up to the assembled Jenga set. With one leg, proceed to give that shit the
mightiest kick you’ve ever mustered in your life. Send those pieces flying everywhere!
With a stopwatch (I forgot that you’ll need a stopwatch) time yourself going
around the room collecting every piece. I hope you counted the number of pieces
before you kicked! If it takes you longer than 2 minutes to collect every
piece, then set it back up and do it again. Feel the burn!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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3. You’re doing great so far! Going into the homestretch,
gotta get a little cardio in. Take the two milk containers and walk up to the
goat, (or cats) and proceed to dump the jug full of water all over it while
insulting its mother. Get it enraged. Get it steaming mad enough to chase you.
Then proceed to run for your life, because goat skulls are notoriously thick
and they will break bones if they headbutt you to the ground. As you run for
your life, be sure to chug thirstily from the jug of spoiled milk. This will
fortify your stomach and guts from any future under cooked Peruvian chicken you
may get at a restaurant one day (I’m looking at you Limon!). See, the key is to
not just make your outside strong, but your inside as well. This workout is all
encompassing!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRptNGq1phBaFWnhXkBU5yCIWT-1dvSfambaldXxxo3_H7lqGYTVrOZbZXs0KKV5HePyfTDQJasiG6XrHO20zytLJnA8ZxcVd6Tm7NSC2GiNZooEBAjjJp0x3S4SfObnN80oP3Mw/s1600/goat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="267" data-original-width="373" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRptNGq1phBaFWnhXkBU5yCIWT-1dvSfambaldXxxo3_H7lqGYTVrOZbZXs0KKV5HePyfTDQJasiG6XrHO20zytLJnA8ZxcVd6Tm7NSC2GiNZooEBAjjJp0x3S4SfObnN80oP3Mw/s320/goat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The same applies to the cats, although insulting their
mothers probably won’t work. You may have to find insults that work for your
particular situation and feline companions. It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
4. Alright boys and girls! The final step of the workout is
to lay the pizza on the ground and just stomp all over it. Treat it like a
redheaded stepchild. This is done for two reasons: 1. Because I’ve always just
wanted to do that, you know? Just waste a pizza! 2. It’s a symbolic gesture to
show that heavy, fatty, delicious foods no longer have any power over you. You
have the control and the willpower to rise above their tasty, tasty siren
calls! You are the master! It’s easy!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay boys and girls, that’s it. You did a great job today! Just
follow this workout four times a day during this quarantine and in no time, you’ll
be as swole and as cut as your boy Broceps. It’s that easy! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQlW6GtBBUGbJlpYKDkcf_qowae0xelxKlKtRlycl4WRHK5l1ClSKpNjrQOsluSKWk-_NKDKhdgtsZRI5PekW7x4JwGHj9ma8VctqJmRgQl02tEvKG1d6W-8Bq91JTJuNXAFACQ/s1600/wimp.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="448" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQlW6GtBBUGbJlpYKDkcf_qowae0xelxKlKtRlycl4WRHK5l1ClSKpNjrQOsluSKWk-_NKDKhdgtsZRI5PekW7x4JwGHj9ma8VctqJmRgQl02tEvKG1d6W-8Bq91JTJuNXAFACQ/s320/wimp.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-56838410944234791242020-03-30T15:08:00.003-04:002020-03-30T15:27:28.788-04:00These Are the Songs that Carry Us<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYK04VoVPKu2a5zKqT5Z7J69zDxhUODdiSfsyiM1_17MVRv17PSQOrG8sbocXOkoF44pcO6k9m5TEONSsxBYCwHLM7fW_XqnoyRI5dpzrD8BN8S3PzcGuB72-YmH2r_ITA9LQkg/s1600/record.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeYK04VoVPKu2a5zKqT5Z7J69zDxhUODdiSfsyiM1_17MVRv17PSQOrG8sbocXOkoF44pcO6k9m5TEONSsxBYCwHLM7fW_XqnoyRI5dpzrD8BN8S3PzcGuB72-YmH2r_ITA9LQkg/s1600/record.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
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DJ: Hey everybody and thank you for joining us at 96.9, The
Throb. The “Crusty Love Nugget of You Dial”<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> ™ I’m your host with the most this
afternoon, DJ Restraining Order, ready to take your love requests during these
trying times. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Here at the Throb, we know that the current virus situation has
people on edge. People are forced to “shelter down”, “hunker in place” and “take
hostages so as not to be alone”. We know that this pandemic is driving families
apart, straining friendships and relationships and basically just being a
nuisance in the hinder. So, for the rest of this afternoon drive-time “Love
Hoedown” ™, your boy Restraining Order is opening up the phone lines. I’m
taking all requests all afternoon. Don’t be afraid! This is how we beat the virus,
communication and togetherness! Caller one, go! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: Is this me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: It sure is. You’re on the line caller. What’s your name and
what is your request?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: My name is Hezphiacalth the Wallower and I’d like to
request <i>Loser</i>, by Beck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Ok Mr. Wallower, I’m not sure you get this it’s supposed to be
love requests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: My dad was Mr. Wallower, just call me Hez. Okay, if that’s
no good, then <i>Creep</i> by Radiohead?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Ummm….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: <i>Hurt</i> by Nine Inch Nails? Anything by Nine Inch
Nails?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: And these are love songs for you and your partner?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: Ohhhh! <i>ME and my partner!</i> No, these are the songs I
love to listen to while skinning somebody alive. I see the mistake now…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<b>CLICK</b>*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Alright, next caller, what can I do you for?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: Hi. My name is Tristan and I’d like to request <i>PYT</i> for
my loved one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Pretty Young Thing by Michael Jackson? Odd choice considering,
but okay. Who is this going out to and what do you want to say?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: This is for my boyfriend Xander, congrats on graduating 5<sup>th</sup>
grade this year! we'll have all the Jesus Juice you wa...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<b>CLICK</b>*<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Let’s try this again. Hello there caller, what is your name
and how may I be of assistance this “Throbbing Afternoon”? ™<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: Hi DJ Restraining Order, my name is Greta and I’d like to
request <i>Ride of the Valkyries</i>, by Richard Wagner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBfN7hTM-YHClvSBjwXx5HqI_1HW9DmkIIcibZaXhnw4ae7hwm-lT_39tpZMw6zdeZ7pfos2i3QqkM1n1UOcFhf_G3LQG6RqRHGS66KXh4V9omkINaS39IWLNq_1dJcIpjqNxcQ/s1600/ride.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="252" data-original-width="450" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaBfN7hTM-YHClvSBjwXx5HqI_1HW9DmkIIcibZaXhnw4ae7hwm-lT_39tpZMw6zdeZ7pfos2i3QqkM1n1UOcFhf_G3LQG6RqRHGS66KXh4V9omkINaS39IWLNq_1dJcIpjqNxcQ/s320/ride.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
DJ: Well, we usually do the hits from the 80s, 90s and today, but
this is the closest we’ve gotten to an actual romantic song request, so I’ll do
my best. May I ask why that song?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Caller: Because tonight he’s breaking into the nearest clinic to
steal masks and drugs and if he doesn’t come back, then the next time I will
see him will be in Valhalla! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: You people are insane. Let’s take a short break and then back
to the romantic music extravaganza here at the “Love Hoedown”!™<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Commercial 1: Hey there. Are you a single in the DMV area? Want to
go out and meet new people, but you’re totally over that “bar scene”? Then you
should meet up with <b>Looky Lous</b> the only singles group for unhealthy and unlawful
peeping! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Join us each month as we get together somewhere in the area to illegally
look through people’s windows, personally or professionally to see what’s going
on in their more well-adjusted lives!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">There’s no pressure for you to interact
with others in the group. We only ask that you bring your own binoculars and
cleaning towel and try to be discrete during each meeting. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHuNtVBeK1vHOEpCLJgdMzk9P7nm81K3lSOQ2R1LztfVKDkFdUA2yliQzgTleB3RA_tmiG6RToJZ2iYrHr3cGxoCoFn1ahiFSf7Gup3L9nHL79IwK8Cv2PCM_nFKbUq4v0RbSDw/s1600/binos.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="405" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHuNtVBeK1vHOEpCLJgdMzk9P7nm81K3lSOQ2R1LztfVKDkFdUA2yliQzgTleB3RA_tmiG6RToJZ2iYrHr3cGxoCoFn1ahiFSf7Gup3L9nHL79IwK8Cv2PCM_nFKbUq4v0RbSDw/s320/binos.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Join us. What do you have to lose?!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Commercial 2: Hi this is Broceps over at <b>Club Torquemada</b>
with a great new offer for you. I have developed the perfect workout for you
and your flabby body to help cope with the stress and pressure that this Coronavirus
is putting us all through. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">During these buzz-harshing times, the worst we can do is ignore
what our body so desperately craves and needs. My routine will ensure that you
will greet each day of confinement with a raised chin. Mostly because you won’t
be able to lower your head or use your neck for at least a week. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">So come on down to <b>Club Toruemada</b> tomorrow and get 50% off
with membership. Or, if that’s not possible, starting tomorrow, you can follow
me in an online workout class. See you then, pussies!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">DJ: Welcome back DMV to the “Crusty Love Nugget of your Dial”™
96.9 The Throb! I’m your afternoon host DJ Restraining Order and we’re going to
close out this godforsaken mess with an email from somebody who was too scared
to call:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Dear DJ, my name is Chester and I’m writing because I figured you
were getting pretty tired of the callers and I hoped this would better attract
your attention. I don’t actually have a girlfriend or wife of my own to make a
request for, but I hoped to make a request on behalf of all those who do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“I haven’t been around very long, but I’ve learned how important
music is, not just to humans, but to animals and even plants. It’s a beautiful
thing. And like all beautiful things, people want to take a piece for
themselves, to latch onto like their <i>Precious</i>. This can be both positive
and negative. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifudE8uhd93ZdNUY16XtXEKQWobYTfotZLn19W14TW5GzQW5uTVOrbg_bVdNeqp32uTFKGD6mmrtfcac7caFF8Lx06R22mZQ5Jp1TR6a1qOc-YyHY3zcJIVcNTMOwAHL7Wmd4DKw/s1600/ring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="237" data-original-width="334" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifudE8uhd93ZdNUY16XtXEKQWobYTfotZLn19W14TW5GzQW5uTVOrbg_bVdNeqp32uTFKGD6mmrtfcac7caFF8Lx06R22mZQ5Jp1TR6a1qOc-YyHY3zcJIVcNTMOwAHL7Wmd4DKw/s320/ring.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Music, sound itself, has power like few other things do. Music
can inspire people to do and create great things; it can inspire them to
continue on with their lives regardless of odds. It can inspire them to find strength
and glory in a greater power than themselves and to motivate others to do the
same.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“Music can also inspire people to do ugly, hateful things for no
other reason other than just to do them. Perhaps people get pleasure out of
their actions, maybe they feel nothing more than compulsion. Only they know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“But in the current situation, music ends up being the hands we can
use to caress each other metaphorically to make up for not being able to touch
physically. And that’s always good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgwkpq6cQoszUO_VR6Zu38MgjiH77U3AG2F3JTi-J0HsOZg6ibEsUtpFIQfw9XdYobgOurB9YiK9y7Fpt8YIDhLb8dWfbDeMKo3qhK6ofw8TPgzK-lsNTLj7Kvp-69lJbEgUl_A/s1600/notes.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgwkpq6cQoszUO_VR6Zu38MgjiH77U3AG2F3JTi-J0HsOZg6ibEsUtpFIQfw9XdYobgOurB9YiK9y7Fpt8YIDhLb8dWfbDeMKo3qhK6ofw8TPgzK-lsNTLj7Kvp-69lJbEgUl_A/s1600/notes.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
DJ: <b>There was no request in there asshole!</b></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-18248851545259900592020-03-29T14:57:00.000-04:002020-03-29T14:57:25.641-04:00You Could Have a Treasure like This in Your Attic/Closet Right Now!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXZzhmWBEefow-qcKfdK1E_n7IK-rewB8vg5bBppp3MutZHPeEGpxPTNiT9Owc9nob3l8QPmqqRon5EYAJZ6QoM6X_RZC8HGc8EpEwuj-DvBnGtjlvso0M7QOt3fbnVgnNcjhcQ/s1600/book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="346" data-original-width="256" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpXZzhmWBEefow-qcKfdK1E_n7IK-rewB8vg5bBppp3MutZHPeEGpxPTNiT9Owc9nob3l8QPmqqRon5EYAJZ6QoM6X_RZC8HGc8EpEwuj-DvBnGtjlvso0M7QOt3fbnVgnNcjhcQ/s400/book.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="293" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He found it in the third box he dug through.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tsuris was in his parents’ attic, going through old boxes
for things to add to the community yard sale. So far, he’d discovered some old M.A.S.K.
action figures, a couple of puzzles and a Heffalump named Woozle. All great
memories, but none as good as what lay in the bottom of the third box. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After digging through old baby clothes, his blankie as a
kid, that weird Barbie phase he had at age 17 and his collection of Garbage Pail
Kid Cards, Tris found the book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3X2oigSl21k7a_FjdQpPkWpKnChA1nWw-82bVtEFVJiYcdxhbbnxZORIGWoqlCMm5_zAgNAro9JiNOKVIN_Htu1ZlvmdS5wwpqRhU8YpuvXmwIUxr4GlXD6Hlt0XW5BDzxLLEdw/s1600/GPK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="258" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3X2oigSl21k7a_FjdQpPkWpKnChA1nWw-82bVtEFVJiYcdxhbbnxZORIGWoqlCMm5_zAgNAro9JiNOKVIN_Htu1ZlvmdS5wwpqRhU8YpuvXmwIUxr4GlXD6Hlt0XW5BDzxLLEdw/s320/GPK.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Hamster Huey and the Gooey Kablooie.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Oh shit</i>! He thought to himself. <i>I haven’t seen
this thing in forever! I remember when dad used to read this to me at bed time
a long time ago, back in the before time, when we all lived together. Gosh I
miss this shit!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He flipped through the pages. It was a kid’s book, more
colorful illustrations than words. And that’s just the way he liked it. Reading
is for chumps! He flipped to the back inside cover and made an interesting
discovery. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Property of Rose County Public Library Department” the
sleeve glued to the book said. The card inside the sleeve had a date stamped on
it with one of those generic rubber stamps where you could spin a wheel to
change the numbers to whatever month, day and year you wanted. The date stamped
on this card read: Dec. 8, 1994.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Oh shit</i>, Tris realized with surprise, <i>this was an
overdue library book!</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The current project at hand forgotten, Tsuris rushed out of
the attic, tripping over a rocking horse and accidentally falling into a very
cold wardrobe. After brushing snow off his shoulders, he took the ladder two
steps at a time. He hit the landing and made his way upstairs*, and outside to
his car. He turned it on and peeled out of the driveway like a bat out of hell,
eager to get to the library. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7QD-1N8G_bsQc6SExja-hr0tvl7QQUXwOemraFoCBgOddvdkQxqU5-GeSTTH_a4o8v_XcsMge_PZW7lDvQMas_sCe079LB9wq7UkAx0tw0kYZDu2neOO_Y6UM9XpyaMQkyC4djg/s1600/wardrobe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="319" data-original-width="357" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7QD-1N8G_bsQc6SExja-hr0tvl7QQUXwOemraFoCBgOddvdkQxqU5-GeSTTH_a4o8v_XcsMge_PZW7lDvQMas_sCe079LB9wq7UkAx0tw0kYZDu2neOO_Y6UM9XpyaMQkyC4djg/s320/wardrobe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fifteen minutes and two neighborhood pets trapped in his front
grill later, Tris made it to the <b><i>Bill H. Cosby’s Reputation Memorial
Library</i></b>. He raced up the steps like his name was Ferris Bueller and
sprinted to the checkout desk, where he spent the next two minutes trying to
catch his breath. Tsuris was pathetically out of shape.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Here you go ma’am,” he said, passing the book to the
librarian.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Excuse me,” the librarian said condescendingly, “I identify
as ‘papyrus’ and I need you to respect my pronouns.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ok,” Tris said, slightly confused. “What are the appropriate
pronouns when addressing…yourself?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That would be ‘paper,” “sheet,” or the more informal, if
we’re friends, (which you and I are not!) ‘my scroll,’” sheet replied.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QovQUcZvnplSQ-5RM1wEX1snoJYuOaNVgizh_iTy4UxJsjhiIt9N-EzJ-pX36esa3PLUokbeG8CDhhIHnh3MSrmvIykvCCfnM4nUs-y4RA_rHfgzTb6p3xIW3hamfOPz0ID_Kg/s1600/scroll.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="289" data-original-width="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QovQUcZvnplSQ-5RM1wEX1snoJYuOaNVgizh_iTy4UxJsjhiIt9N-EzJ-pX36esa3PLUokbeG8CDhhIHnh3MSrmvIykvCCfnM4nUs-y4RA_rHfgzTb6p3xIW3hamfOPz0ID_Kg/s1600/scroll.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Okay, paper. Sorry for the trouble. I would just like to
return this book. Though, to be honest, I haven’t borrowed a book from this
library in decades, I’m not sure I even have an account here anymore.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Let’s see. Name?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Tsuris Macher.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Alright Tsuris, looks like you checked out…<i>Hamster Huey
and the Gooey Kablooie</i>? What the hell is that? Anyway, you checked it out
Nov. 2, 1994. Yeah, it’s overdue alright. And yes, you do still have an account
with us. We’re like the IRS, we never forget. Your overdue fee is $73,284.29.
But, since I’m in a good mood, I’m willing to wave the 29 cents. So how will
you be paying today, sir?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tris began to panic. The sweat rolled down his panicky face in
a monsoon. His eyes flicked back and forth, like a poker player with a hundred
tells<i>. Overdue fee? The hell is she talking about? That book is 25 years overdue;
they can’t seriously be keeping track of that shit? I don’t have anywhere close
to that kind of money. This has got to be a joke</i>, he thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ummm, you’re kidding, right paper?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sir, I am a librarian. We all have our sense of humor
surgically removed upon employment. Now, I ask again, how will you be paying?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Like this!” Tris yelled. He then turned and ran to the
door. He got about five feet from the exit before he felt the electrical shock
hit him between the shoulder blades. All of the muscles in his upper body
contracted and spasmed like he was having a seizure. He lost control of his
legs and fell into a miserable heap on the floor, unable to move any of his
body parts in the way he wanted to. The damn librarian had tazed him!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That’s when the security guards walked up to him in their
hobnailed boots and began to practice their Irish dancing skills on his face
and body until the pain turned into numbness and shock sent him blissfully into
unconsciousness. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tsuris woke up sometime later in a dark room. Well, he
assumed the room was dark, he couldn’t tell, he had some kind of a mask or bag
over his head. All he could tell about his situation was that the room he was
in was frigid, whatever he was sitting on was very uncomfortable, his hands
were tied behind his back, his feet were tied together and he was barefoot,
which really sucked, because the floor was rough stone and it was like ice. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Out of nowhere, there was the sound of a heavy door creaking
open and a light switch was flicked on. The bag was pulled off his head and he
saw the librarian.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well Mr. Macher, welcome to your new home. Don’t try to
escape, nobody has ever been successful. Just cooperate with us and the rest of
your life can be as trouble-free as you make it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Through the fog of pain, concussions, broken bones, blunt
force trauma and who knows what the hell else, sheets words clawed their way
into recognition.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Rest of my life?” he squeaked.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes. To pay off your debt to the Rose County libraries,
your parents have agreed to make you a permanent ward of the state, so you can
work off what you owe. And with what you owe, you’re going to be working your
ass off and staying in this cell until you die.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lZmWZqubi5YyKtmkJa8t-7oWOREU6XNw6hdWMBOv3ue-Fukta48RtIyve_02SmjOMA2-jdGW2RA0T4dfecMOPNE1uZf7zxuLWyKzqbfYSe6XZNsr11dZYHPaFrot1rW5MJLTqQ/s1600/cell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="283" data-original-width="424" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9lZmWZqubi5YyKtmkJa8t-7oWOREU6XNw6hdWMBOv3ue-Fukta48RtIyve_02SmjOMA2-jdGW2RA0T4dfecMOPNE1uZf7zxuLWyKzqbfYSe6XZNsr11dZYHPaFrot1rW5MJLTqQ/s320/cell.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please no, paper! There must be something else I can do!”
Tsuris pleaded.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You’re doing it already,” the librarian said with a smile.
“And please, call me ‘my scroll.’ I have a feeling we’re going to become good
friends…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>^^^</b><i>Laughter fades out as screen slowly goes to
black. After a good twenty seconds of silence on a dark screen, right when
people are wondering if it’s over or what the hell is going on, the words DON’T
BE A TSURIS MACHER appear</i>.<b>^^^</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>*Tsuris’ childhood home was built upside-down. Life
wasn’t easy, but man, the price on that house couldn’t be beat!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-40324565775298367162020-03-27T13:04:00.000-04:002020-03-27T13:12:45.804-04:00Only One Left<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUX2Vas55qEn95OXhznDKPxe6avUkC3rF5bfd4Gtm8bbKyuJDbbskWHVbXF53tlFwU2N3kjzELl87Z0m3GUDs89cjQKeNSd4MU3-EjQ4r0RUr2OEdHrc9TnCzmvLF2z1bypYJw/s1600/bomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eUX2Vas55qEn95OXhznDKPxe6avUkC3rF5bfd4Gtm8bbKyuJDbbskWHVbXF53tlFwU2N3kjzELl87Z0m3GUDs89cjQKeNSd4MU3-EjQ4r0RUr2OEdHrc9TnCzmvLF2z1bypYJw/s1600/bomb.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
(<i>All facts are true and can be researched online</i>)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In 1952, Dr. Amstaed Grunsch, of the Czech Republic, was
hired by the United States government, for a secret experiment called <b>Project
Locus</b>. Dr. Grunsch’s field of expertise was in itself experimental. Or, at
least, nascent. And as a young, but burgeoning field of study, Dr. Grunsch was
at the forefront. He was studying Fluxuating Syncopation in Air Molecules,
(FSAM for short). The theory was that if one could predict and quantify the miniscule
ruptures in the space between air particles, they would be able to somehow
translocate physical matter much quicker than Einstein’s Theory of Relativity
could account for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, even
though he was 72 at the time, Einstein felt this to be a fool’s errand. But
still, he welcomed anybody able to prove him wrong. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZj2ae0PosAwCVr2N8yElgl5qImKVTHcWiVDZHVcFJ4nuG2yabrapAvlO4HbVe1Cob4bI4idnvE1JuVrWt2iLfIrRo5XZn4EPO9dSEBCWyC8Dty6CDH7t1-nmOg78E4FcUepaiuQ/s1600/brain.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="160" data-original-width="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZj2ae0PosAwCVr2N8yElgl5qImKVTHcWiVDZHVcFJ4nuG2yabrapAvlO4HbVe1Cob4bI4idnvE1JuVrWt2iLfIrRo5XZn4EPO9dSEBCWyC8Dty6CDH7t1-nmOg78E4FcUepaiuQ/s1600/brain.png" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Doctor Grunsch felt that with a strong enough power source,
and with precise equipment, one would be able to navigate in between the
individual air particles to achieve trans-location. However, he was stymied by
the poor condition of the frankly useless post-war equipment left in the Czech
Republic. What hadn’t been destroyed (either by enemies, or retreating Czech
soldiers using phosphorous grenades to destroy all possibly intelligence) had
been severely burnt, dented or stripped for parts. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Luckily, the United States had heard of Dr. Grunsch, and saw
great possibilities in his work. With their current Cold War with the Soviets
showing no sign of slowing down, indeed it was escalating, the American
government felt that any edge it could get over its enemy was worth
experimenting with. So Dr. Grunsch and his team were transported to a top
secret laboratory in Fort Ferncliff, which was a little-known scientific subset
of Fort Riley. The laboratory was set up in a repurposed missile silo for the
protection of the people within, as much as the people outside. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The lab was dubbed Susicka (Czech for DRYER) by the
scientists because they discovered that the less moisture was in the air, the
easier translocation occurred. It helped to split the molecules and create
larger pockets through which to navigate. Susicka was as state as the art as
possible in 1953. Many military suppliers were made or broken by the contracts
to build the requisite equipment. Three Univac 1103 Cray Computers, designed by
Engineering Research Associates and built by Remington Rand were installed.
This was unheard of at the time as they were the most advanced computers in existence.
The Armed Forces Security Agency was upset, as all ERA contracts were to be
allocated to them. But the higher ups felt that <b>Project Locus</b>, would fare
better than pipe dreams of one day being able to go into space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2LManTqpwgVIpZJ5qtaRgR9S0i4j5UDvvd4-kjs5UxDXOYbzn-SnpDgew1G7vNeDjxmQdVJYqukQhb_Tze27MPiU03IyyP1GYgp1jmRn6AivMuTw-OhTlLPscW3QgCcHXb30Pw/s1600/comp.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2LManTqpwgVIpZJ5qtaRgR9S0i4j5UDvvd4-kjs5UxDXOYbzn-SnpDgew1G7vNeDjxmQdVJYqukQhb_Tze27MPiU03IyyP1GYgp1jmRn6AivMuTw-OhTlLPscW3QgCcHXb30Pw/s1600/comp.png" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Doctor Grunsch and his team spent four years working on <b>Project
Locus</b>, meaning that Einstein died before he could see any success, or
failure. The team of Czech scientists worked long hours, partly out of
devotion, partly out of their American masters demanding results. The stress
caused some scientists to quit. Some were forced back to work; the others were
never seen again. But eventually, after more manhours than could be counted,
and more grey hairs than anybody wanted to admit, the team thought they had
completed their machine, named: The Submolecular Optimization Coordinated Kenetitron
(SOCK). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The problem was<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dr.
Grunsch did not feel that the machine was ready to be deployed. He felt that it
required more testing, as it was extremely dangerous and the results could be
catastrophic. But the military was anxious to use the machine. The Cold War was
escalating, stockpiles were growing and they felt that nuclear attack was
imminent. They wanted to get there first. Perhaps translocate one of their own
bombs straight into Moscow. So, on Sunday, Dec. 8, 1957, the first, and only
test of the Submolecular Optimization Coordinated Kinetitron took place. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Unfortunately, it turns out that the doctor was right. The
machine wasn’t ready, that much was obvious in the first four seconds. All
three computers exploded and half of Kansas lost power. Fires ignited
everywhere. The smoke was dense and caused many to suffocate as they inhaled
aluminum, nitrogen sulfate and other compounds that were meant to be
contained, and not breathed by human lungs. Only one person survived. Doctor
Grunsch disappeared. The machine itself disappeared into the fluxuations, never
to be seen again. But in that small way the experiment was a success, as the
results still reverberate to this day. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And that’s why one SOCK always disappears in the DRYER. <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicybrGDzLIT-ewnntwfhBc7YvBFSbt9IzzLirvUV3cBKRGm3P6NqG2q1hqwtbsxEVN0uAfqp_E_NIm2q-fR3sN8O_CbzPXTYgPfWYbKsYjEu1FLG-bYKtye9Tb1n_3IO-qbj0W4A/s1600/sock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicybrGDzLIT-ewnntwfhBc7YvBFSbt9IzzLirvUV3cBKRGm3P6NqG2q1hqwtbsxEVN0uAfqp_E_NIm2q-fR3sN8O_CbzPXTYgPfWYbKsYjEu1FLG-bYKtye9Tb1n_3IO-qbj0W4A/s1600/sock.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-36493961116177569522020-02-07T08:56:00.001-05:002020-02-07T08:59:15.715-05:00If You Had Super Powers...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEPjhtKBe2xpTJS5qdBQ37TNi1HmaG0fCpEtI-sbRuCj86fnDgBmD_n9LIyZ3r4eJAaeA6HWEWcvGIezfqssROAd7LbROayz1K-agb11YteE0boAbbQozDgnHBkGm4yBEj5uFSA/s1600/superman.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="204" data-original-width="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEPjhtKBe2xpTJS5qdBQ37TNi1HmaG0fCpEtI-sbRuCj86fnDgBmD_n9LIyZ3r4eJAaeA6HWEWcvGIezfqssROAd7LbROayz1K-agb11YteE0boAbbQozDgnHBkGm4yBEj5uFSA/s1600/superman.png" /></a></div>
“NEXT!”<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hello?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Hello. Welcome to Nefericorps. What can I do for you today
sir?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Ummmm, yeah, hi. My name is The Distributor and I’m here to
renew my registration?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Okay sir. Do you have you filled out your JW1979, THX1138,
ABC123 and the rest of the forms required?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“My what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Sir. Mr. Disputer? You need to have those forms filled out
in order to renew your Super Villain registration.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s The Distributor, and about that…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“We also need a blood sample, a urine sample, a hair sample,
a tooth (for postmortem identification purposes) your first-born son and a
permission slip signed by my mother.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“By <i>your</i> moth…? Listen, that seems a bit extra for a
simple renewal. Don’t you have all that stuff on file from when I first
actually applied?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“According to our records Mr. Discotheque, you first
registered in 1999. So not only is everything on file out of date (including
your son, who got a job and moved away, but he does send the occasional
postcard) but after the ‘Diabolic Uprising of ‘15’ Nerfericorps came under new
management and many of our processes and procedures changed. Including
registration and renewal. Amongst other things.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Like what?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, under our new rating system, you probably wouldn’t be
a 4 anymore.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“An upgrade? That’s great news! What am I, a 7 or 8 as I
rightfully deserve? Do I finally get to fight the Paladin?!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No sir. A downgrade. You’d be a 2. In fact, if you complete
your renewal today, we should be able to set you up with a confrontation with The
Canker by the end of the week. So that’s good news.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Canker? You dare suggest that I, the mighty
Distributor, Bane of the Virtuous, Scourge of the Benevolent, Walker of the
Jays, fight the likes of a guy with a contagious mouth? I would never stoop so
low!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well, Mr. Disasterous…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Distributor!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well Mr. <i>The Distributor</i>, The Canker is the only
available person in your category who is open for the next few weeks. So you
can either fight him, or you can simply not renew your registration.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yeah! I might just do that! Go rogue. Hit the streets like
villains were intended. I don’t know why we unionized in the first place. It’s
dumb. You guys just steal my money for nothing!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Bingo genius. We’re villains. That’s what we do.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Alright then…what’s your name again?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I never said it the first time, but if you read my nametag
sir, you’ll see that my name is Gene.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Gene? Hmmm…Gene. That sounds familiar.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’s an extremely popular name. All the LA heartthrobs have
it. Now if there’s nothing else, you’re holding up the line. The gentleman
behind you…”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%;">My name is
Fluorescent Man</span>.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“The Fluorescent Man, (great name by the way, very
memorable) needs our services. Please move out of the way or I’ll call over my
coworker Dr. Brooks.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I remember you now! You’re the ass I spoke to on the phone
six years ago when I was trying to schedule a fight with the Paladin! You
couldn’t get my name right back then either!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Very possible sir. I talk to many villains, both memorable
and forgettable alike. I guess you fall into the latter.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Listen you clip-on-tie-wearing, ink-stain-on-your-pocket-having,
hairstyle-looking-like-he-just-got-into-90s-episodes-of-ER-George-Clooney-cut-sporting,
face-like-a-melting-fetus-left-in-the-local-dump-for-a-week-in-August-looking, smegma-dipped-in-horseshit-smelling
bureaucrat: this isn’t over. I’m going to get all my shit renewed and then I’m
going to come back and deliver upon you a torture so slow, so painful, so
deliberate, that not only will it be a masterclass on how to fully demoralize
your enemy and steal their soul, but it will have you wishing you could travel
back in time and kill your mom Terminator style so you were never born and
would not have to endure such misery!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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“Ok sir. Have a nice day. NEXT!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-67745592721749271872020-01-31T09:38:00.001-05:002020-01-31T09:38:16.834-05:00Where Are They Now?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bZsLJ7-TSmmKpZ1-EPaSy2vKiG8l_VgzNUdmYeUCIkTii5lx3bqBN1-RRz9eSL4oC97SW7v4tndusyU45O8oLkDrxxXA0YsV8iv-s7vVxHfRnHrP6BUsGXZ8i63LdGen_I5Qow/s1600/psy+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3bZsLJ7-TSmmKpZ1-EPaSy2vKiG8l_VgzNUdmYeUCIkTii5lx3bqBN1-RRz9eSL4oC97SW7v4tndusyU45O8oLkDrxxXA0YsV8iv-s7vVxHfRnHrP6BUsGXZ8i63LdGen_I5Qow/s1600/psy+1.jpg" /></a></div>
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Good evening and welcome to <i>Where Are They Now?</i> The
show that brings you up-to-date information on the whereabouts of news-makers
from the past. I’m your host, Dr. Gooch, here to bring you the what’s-what
about the who’s-who that you totally forgot about, because nobody really cares
about these social leeches.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Tonight, we begin with the perpetrator of the biggest
earworm of 2012. Psy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>PSY</b>: We all remember that little South Korean dough
boy and his always handsomely coiffed hair. And the reason for that is because
his chart-topping song <i>Gangnam Style</i> was parodied and “memed” in our
culture so much that the amount of people who were admitted to hospitals with
aural injuries due to them violently shoving sharp implements into their ear
holes quadrupled in four short months. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzHkqkamg-s1MCrNk1DIZNRb_1x8GTxcLEwvNkoOD_jc7bU8f5dw9IPiNYDPE_c3lLltE6x7daf5-L2uVeE2U5reE4yHJSE5ibnvmpdnhD7hyDks7zgitm6xpiEJ-DQ-7wj-aLw/s1600/psy+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzHkqkamg-s1MCrNk1DIZNRb_1x8GTxcLEwvNkoOD_jc7bU8f5dw9IPiNYDPE_c3lLltE6x7daf5-L2uVeE2U5reE4yHJSE5ibnvmpdnhD7hyDks7zgitm6xpiEJ-DQ-7wj-aLw/s1600/psy+2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Psy followed up that massive hit with a couple of other
songs, but by then it was too late. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Everybody’s minds had been shattered by his
song, and we no longer remembered what the light and the warmth of the sun felt
like. So he quietly slunk away back to South Korea, where he could plunder as
many Korean thrift shops as he wanted for new clothes. But where is he now?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The researchers here at <i>Where Are They Now?</i> Were able
to track down Psy, and where they found him may surprise you. It seems that Psy
(real name Alfred E. Neuman) became a deep-sea fisherman of mermaids. It’s not
a luxurious job, and the hours and commitment can be quite demanding, but every
time Psy and his crew return to shore with even one or two mermaids, it’s all
worth it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Mermaid’s are valued for their delicious and tender upper body meat.
Their lower halves are used for extremely expensive sushi, usually reserved for
the very rich and heads of state. The iridescent shine of the scales makes for
beautiful dresses and other haute-couture clothing. The rugged sea life has
benefited Psy. Gone is his poppin’ fresh belly and love handles. He now
proudly wears the squinted-eyes and sun-tanned leathery face of a true
fisherman with majestic pride. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All we can do is watch with a tear in our eye as he horsey
dances into the sunset.</div>
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<br />
<span style="mso-tab-count: 6;"> </span>***<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Up next we have a person who captured the nation’s attention
and tugged at our heartstrings for a full five minutes before we all got
distracted by the oddly weightless karate people in <i>Crouching Tiger Hidden
Dragon</i>, (yo, remember that shit? Back before Ang Lee did movies about gay
cowboys and neon green gamma monsters).<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Elian Gonzalez</b>: The year: 2000. The place: Southern
Florida. The event: Trapped in a closet.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Elian made the news at the turn of the century when he and
his mother and mother’s boyfriend attempted to leave Cuba to get to America and
make it to Epcot Center before the Body Wars Exhibit was shut down for good.
The five-year-old’s mother drowned in the attempt and without a steady stream
of “getting some” the boyfriend ghosted the scene. Elian was subsequently
placed with relatives in Miami. But his father wanted him back in Cuba, where
the cigars and rum are plentiful and the cars are all from 1954.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And thus began an international tug-of-war for Elian’s very
soul. So much pathos and drama! Let’s skip all that nonsense.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Eventually, after a whirlwind tour and press junket across
these fruited plains, Elian was forced to end his engagement to Rosario Dawson
and return to Cuba, where he became best friends with Castro. Although, Castro
was on so much medication at this point that he just assumed that Elian was a
imaginary munchkin friend that only he could see. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After a few years of living in Cuba, Elian managed to leave
again for the glorious shores of America, on a makeshift boat he created out of
banana leaves and pelican spit. He made it to shore, but by the time INS
reached where he had landed, Elian, otherwise known as the “Cubano Dynamo” had
disappeared into the bushes, never to be seen again.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Until today! <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our team was able to hire world-renowned tracker/hunter Robert
Muldoon, who led them to an amateurishly built one-room shack in the middle of
the Florida swamps. There, we discovered an extremely fast cigarette boat and a
table with about five keys of white power in brick form, a money counting machine
and a Glock pistol. Clearly, some illicit things were going down in the bayou.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On their way out of the shack, the team actually ran into a
bearded hulking man with a machete and a burner cell phone. It turned out that
this man was Elian himself, now an autonomous businessman. As it so happened,
Elian was in the Swamp Thing hunting trade. He would travel the marsh, seeking
the elusive Swamp Things that inhabit the bogs and burn their repugnant bodies
into a powder form that he would sell to idiotic tourists as authentic Cajun
Seminole Seasoning. He lived on a healthy two million dollars a month and
actually had a gorgeous mansion outside of Miami proper. He just kept the shack
because it added a touch of realism that the brainless tourists expected. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 2;"></span> ***<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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That’s all the time we have today on <i>Where Are They Now? </i>Again,
I’m your host Dr. Gooch. Join us next time when we discover, where the hell in
the world is Carmen Sandiego?!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-61828533808899698612020-01-27T14:37:00.000-05:002020-01-27T14:37:07.899-05:00Josh’s Notes: Johnny Tremain, a.k.a. “Johnny Deformed-Hand” as Bart Simpson calls him<br />
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We all remember growing up right? If not, you might have <i>Memento</i>
disease and you should seek medical attention. There were a lot of shared
experiences we all had growing up: school, homework, wearing high heels and
lipstick in the privacy of our own rooms, daily beatings with extension cords.
You know, regular stuff.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And one of the most annoying things about childhood was
school and the homework. Especially when we were assigned to read the stodgiest
books the school board could afford to purchase in bulk*. That’s why we had
such gems as <i>One Flew Under the Cuckoo’s Nest, A Farewell to Legs</i> and <i>Hamlet
2: Ophelia’s Revenge</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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But today I’m going to talk about that Revolutionary War
classic (so called because the damn thing feels like it was actually written
300 years ago) <i>Johnny Tremain</i>. Written in 1943 by Esther “No Relation”
Forbes. <i>Johnny Tremain</i> tells the pointless story of some kid with a
really shitty life that just so happens to take place during milestone events
in American history. It’s basically the literary equivalent of <i>Life of Brian</i>,
by Monty Python’s Flying Circus. The story of some chump in the wrong place at
the right time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Johnny Tremain, the original JT, was a 14-year-old silversmith’s
apprentice in Boston. He made sure that there were always plenty of silver
bullets available for the usual werewolf attacks. You see, not much is
mentioned these days, but early settlers and Americans were constantly hassled
by lycanthropes. It was really annoying. Babies snatched up left and right. Big
old piles of werewolf scat all in the streets and on people’s porches. Those
guys were jerks. But I digress. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One day, an older apprentice named Dove (make of that name what
you will) was jealous of Johnny. Probably because of his elegant, patriotic
pony tail. So he sabotaged a thing Johnny was working on, I think he was
patching up a crack in the Holy Grail or something, and Johnny ended up burning
the shit out of his hand. Remember that scene in <i>The Fly</i>, where
Brundlefly uses his acid puke to melt that dude’s hand into a gross, mushy
stump? That’s basically what happened to Johnny. Unsavory.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now, horribly crippled, unable to marry his boss’s daughter
and a complete load on society, Johnny takes up doing opium and laudanum and is
found two weeks later, his body rotting in an alley. Forgotten by all.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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JK! That would have been a more realistic outcome, but this
is fiction damn it! And he’s the protagonist, for some reason, so we gotta keep
this story moving!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Since this is America, what
really happens is that Johnny decides to call upon the aide of the 1%. Sigh,
when will the rabble, the Great Unwashed, learn to be self-reliant? Lift
themselves up by their own boot straps and make something of themselves? The goddam
American Dream! If I had my druthers, all poor and ugly people would be locked
up behind high walls, so I wouldn’t have to see them during my daily
constitutional to the Gentlemen’s Club for brandy and a game of Operation. ** <o:p></o:p></div>
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Johnny convinces this rich cat that they’re related, which
helps him get a job delivering the <i>Boston Observer</i>, a pro-Whig
newspaper. Warning: this is where the book gets crazy political and historical and
it talks about the growing tensions between Whigs and Tories and everybody who
attempts to read the book is suddenly struck with super-glazed eyes, a slack
jaw with rivulets of drool falling into their lap and a brain that escaped
through the ears and is currently withering to death on the floor. But not
today loyal readers! That’s why you’ve got Josh’s Notes!</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Johnny and his boy Rab engage in various historical events
that lead up to the Revolutionary War. They partake in the Boston Tea Party, the
Massachusetts Ice Cream Party and the Philly Beer Party, (most people’s
memories were a bit hazy the next morning about exactly what happened the previous
night and why they were waking up on top of the Liberty Bell and why there was
now a crack in it.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Johnny ends up being a spy for the <i>Sons of Liberty</i>,
the secret Impossible Mission Force arm of the Boston Whigs. And he gets to
work with such famous patriots as Samuel “God I need a Drink” Adams, John “Stop
Making Fun of Me” Hancock and Paul “Sybil Ludington Actually Rode Further Than
I Did” Revere.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Eventually, during the early parts of the war Rab (short for
“Rabtastic maybe?) gets a lead ball to the dome and dies. Due to Johnny’s Play-Doh
hand, he can’t pick up a gun and avenge his comrade’s death. But that won’t
stop Johnny. He has the true grit of a die-hard American patriot! He bleeds
red, white and blue! With the help of Dr. Joseph Warren, Johnny is given a
robotic Vibranium hand that can crush a man’s skull as easily as a toothpick.
And a musket that shoots precision laser blasts like the Predator.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBU904-MGedlpkf8gwlFtMIlJQqyWPnuunKBLhu8qgECr6X2kXg4CYe4wHHYkvyR237UD1u4N4eRCK93_T_MuB1TjAVgNhkA74xePkULJMlG6VTC514Q_Aaqp3DASHFzqXyE3ew/s1600/Tremain+Hand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBU904-MGedlpkf8gwlFtMIlJQqyWPnuunKBLhu8qgECr6X2kXg4CYe4wHHYkvyR237UD1u4N4eRCK93_T_MuB1TjAVgNhkA74xePkULJMlG6VTC514Q_Aaqp3DASHFzqXyE3ew/s1600/Tremain+Hand.jpg" /></a></div>
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Johnny then enlists in the Army and decides to <b>LIVE FREE
OR DIE! YO JOE! </b>The end.<b> <o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Maybe I made up that part about the cybernetic hand. Maybe I
didn’t. You’ll never know because nobody has ever made it to the end of the
book. I believe it holds the Guinness World Record for “Most Unfinished Book”.
Coming up a distant second is <i>Human Centipede: The Novelization For Kids</i>!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Join me next time, when I give notes on <i>To
Kill a Mockingbird</i>. Or maybe <i>Everybody Poops</i>. Who knows?<o:p></o:p></div>
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*<i>Typically, because they wasted the annual school budget
on houses, hookers and hotels. The Triple-Hs as we called them.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>**The goofy game for dopey docs.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-29488353232455443682020-01-24T09:19:00.000-05:002020-01-24T09:19:45.758-05:00You Have the Right to Bear…Hugs (or, all you need is GUNS)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tslzJbEOZLeAtoZsKFoQtsPYTOhyphenhyphenAuZgUwxS3owprdezA20AJ8_cFFrXVsyNcPm3qL77KVvcSSFYqEQHrILrWPn2dgPmUz_uAPTAE448PKi9s1ht8Guscq2D4BXIcBz5wjvNSw/s1600/bear+with+guns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="191" data-original-width="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tslzJbEOZLeAtoZsKFoQtsPYTOhyphenhyphenAuZgUwxS3owprdezA20AJ8_cFFrXVsyNcPm3qL77KVvcSSFYqEQHrILrWPn2dgPmUz_uAPTAE448PKi9s1ht8Guscq2D4BXIcBz5wjvNSw/s1600/bear+with+guns.jpg" /></a></div>
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Recently, I learned that America is having a collective
argument about some trifle. I was nonplussed! What rigmarole was this? America
is and always has been a unified body. We’re just a big old tasty stew in a
melting pot of love. We’ve never been divided by anything before! Surely this
means the End of Days!<o:p></o:p></div>
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And then I did a little research and it turns out that we’ve
been divided on a conservative ONE TRILLION things before. Here’s a short list.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul>
<li>David Lee Roth vs Sammy Hagar</li>
<li>Great Taste vs Less Filling</li>
<li>Kirk vs Picard</li>
<li>DC vs Marvel</li>
<li>Standard vs Manual</li>
<li>Thin Crust vs Deep Dish</li>
<li>Coo Coo Ca Cho vs Goo Goo G’Joob</li>
<li>Die Hard vs All Other Movies</li>
<li>Yanny vs Laurel</li>
<li>Chevy vs Ford</li>
<li>Cowboys vs Indians<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmNYz4KiLXZaFS6OzU4qNdr4qQ8ILBo_mCz8X413A4bihiyc_ISTEeqamfYtFI43TfYeyjRf5WkddK0x5yKsFxJILzl4XAC_HZBwLjHV5OP7x9iEWxWagaIfbSriLJXnn-vj_qQ/s1600/skins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="151" data-original-width="333" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGmNYz4KiLXZaFS6OzU4qNdr4qQ8ILBo_mCz8X413A4bihiyc_ISTEeqamfYtFI43TfYeyjRf5WkddK0x5yKsFxJILzl4XAC_HZBwLjHV5OP7x9iEWxWagaIfbSriLJXnn-vj_qQ/s320/skins.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>Star Wars vs Star Trek</li>
<li>Buttnaked vs Bucknaked</li>
<li>East Coast vs West Coast</li>
<li>Sunny D vs Purple Stuff</li>
<li>Connery vs Moore</li>
<li>Pat’s vs Gino’s</li>
<li>Rap vs Hip Hop</li>
<li>The Light Side vs The Dark Side</li>
<li>Mac vs PC</li>
<li>The vs Thee</li>
<li>Michael Jackson vs Prince</li>
<li>You Can Get With This vs You Can Get With That</li>
<li>iPhone vs Android</li>
<li>Coffee vs Tea</li>
<li>VHS vs Betamax<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNX9ajNRccKSCCL6YlHkJ7Aaj2mz3_Cvrx7whOH9ZPnGDCr4mlXRdC3W9k1f7ZyHWGTb0efTClqo8CfPKPQiZmg0nOXyTh1Tq6-LLljUGpZHqDXvyZvsMoFKXCGR9mcDzj6v2UA/s1600/betamax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="159" data-original-width="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFNX9ajNRccKSCCL6YlHkJ7Aaj2mz3_Cvrx7whOH9ZPnGDCr4mlXRdC3W9k1f7ZyHWGTb0efTClqo8CfPKPQiZmg0nOXyTh1Tq6-LLljUGpZHqDXvyZvsMoFKXCGR9mcDzj6v2UA/s1600/betamax.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>Stars and Bars vs Don’t Tread On Me</li>
<li>Bruce Lee vs Jackie Chan</li>
<li>Pornhub vs YouPorn</li>
<li>Rolling Stones vs Beatles</li>
<li>Nintendo vs Sega</li>
<li>Disney vs WB</li>
<li>William Shakespeare vs E. L. James</li>
<li>Leno vs Letterman</li>
<li>Britney vs Christina</li>
<li>In ‘n Out vs Five Guys</li>
<li>Jack Nicholson vs Heath Ledger</li>
<li>City Mouse vs Country Mouse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidr1zWIwLZ9ru8YaKVlZg_Ipd3YX7Mx-4B7o52oTNpN1VQP5hjmJ2KdSlxpNC76gOQkTTokC1TbKY70wsI1gDdCXx9nUvdw_0k1OwVPBsFmBQqE6XPq3VDsYMkQFf8N2Z2U6TFlg/s1600/country+mouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="247" data-original-width="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidr1zWIwLZ9ru8YaKVlZg_Ipd3YX7Mx-4B7o52oTNpN1VQP5hjmJ2KdSlxpNC76gOQkTTokC1TbKY70wsI1gDdCXx9nUvdw_0k1OwVPBsFmBQqE6XPq3VDsYMkQFf8N2Z2U6TFlg/s1600/country+mouse.jpg" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>Mario vs Sonic</li>
<li>Left-Handed vs Right-Handed</li>
<li>Ali vs Foreman</li>
<li>Cat vs Dog (when they live together, it’s mass hysteria)</li>
<li>Cake vs Death</li>
</ul>
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See what I mean? It’s a madhouse out there. Surely there’s
at least one thing we can all agree on? My vote is on how expensive Disney
World is. That’s shit’s crazy, don’t you think?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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So, did I miss any? Let me know in the comments.*<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<i><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">*Comments! Hahahaha!</span></i><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-4820653478643438122020-01-21T12:59:00.002-05:002020-01-21T12:59:38.188-05:00Newspapers Are Weird<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpFJkzyDoigjwndZ6m7yJ6DIAVczj9ogoAxGr7_npeYWgqGz8d6fNuP1sW7QvFXScn3rEPxyvztszcXkRXklspcPP0jaRYdG5pzs_4FahKWe2n4xTy-VUgxHpPf284S_zTAGQUw/s1600/clifford.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpFJkzyDoigjwndZ6m7yJ6DIAVczj9ogoAxGr7_npeYWgqGz8d6fNuP1sW7QvFXScn3rEPxyvztszcXkRXklspcPP0jaRYdG5pzs_4FahKWe2n4xTy-VUgxHpPf284S_zTAGQUw/s1600/clifford.png" /></a></div>
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<u><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Lost</span></b></u></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: One tabby cat, 200 lbs., brown hair, probably wearing
blue jeans. Goes by the name Lung Butter. He’ll probably say that isn’t his
name, but don’t listen, he’s a liar. If found, please return to George. Also,
tell him to bring some kitty litter on his way home. This place smells like wheeeeeeeew!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: Please help me. My dog is lost. He’s red and about 25
feet tall. Honestly, I don’t know how the cops haven’t been called already, he’s
pretty hard to miss. To track him, just follow the paw prints the length of a
mini-cooper. Thank you!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: My friend Snuggle Puff is missing. He’s a Goliath
Birdeater tarantula. Don’t worry, he’s harmless. He’ll probably make his
presence known if you feel a tingling crawling up your pantleg. That’s just his
way of saying hello!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: Howdy. I’ve lost my old girl Bessie. She’s a 1989
F-150. If you see her, approach her slowly. She’s a bit skittish. Also, you
might want to wear a gas mask, those exhaust fumes are toxic!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: My mind. Why did I get married?! Please, somebody help
me find my sanity. $1000 reward!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: This is a little embarrassing, but my Frankenstein got
loose…again. He never wanders too far, but you never know. If you spot him,
play some violin or something soothing. BUT NOT DRAKE! DRAKE AND FIRE BAD!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: Me. Where am I? Is this Hell? I see a light; I think I
may go toward it…<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: My boy Waldo got lost years ago. Fool owes me $20. He’s
wearing a red and white stripped sweater. He was last seen with his girlfriend
Carmen Sandiego. Find them both and get the prize!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: One shoe. Don’t ask me how it happened. It happened,
okay? Get off my back. Just help me look for this damn thing. It’s probably on
the side of I-95 in Jersey.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<u>Lost</u>: In Translation. That’s not a good movie, right? I
mean, we’re all supposed to like it for some reason, but it’s really just some
pretentious garbage. If you agree, tweet me @SophiaCoppola. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-73736171042284633242020-01-20T13:57:00.001-05:002020-01-20T13:57:45.313-05:00Ferguson Darling (or, get killed now and avoid the rush!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcDN3G4KezhqL7Cj10-9YdXd-X51_1b8Qq4u_Zu-KGjGQuYyfTOnhHNSb00g82BFKiHUPmmrpBso-dTymBfxVAkheK8C6F683xtd9NoLPeogSKG1_8DnDW2JvoPa7jTrN795c1Q/s1600/michael+brown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="196" data-original-width="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOcDN3G4KezhqL7Cj10-9YdXd-X51_1b8Qq4u_Zu-KGjGQuYyfTOnhHNSb00g82BFKiHUPmmrpBso-dTymBfxVAkheK8C6F683xtd9NoLPeogSKG1_8DnDW2JvoPa7jTrN795c1Q/s1600/michael+brown.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i>(I wrote this out of anger in 2014 after the murder of Michael Brown and the riots in Ferguson. I didn't post it because it wasn't really funny and it was really just an exercise to get shit off my chest. But today being the holiday it is, I revisited what I wrote and I wonder, has anything changed? Are we better or worse?)</i></div>
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There. Feel better now? Get it all out of your system? Your
rioting. Your protests (both violent and peaceful.*) Your sharing the links to
a dozen different, (yet all equally ineffectual) online articles, some written
by actual writers with an idea of how language works and how words fit
together, some written by people with a keyboard and at least two working
fingers, but little else. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All pointless. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Your anger. Your righteous indignation. Your raging
against…something. The system? Racism? Cops? Is it all out there? Have you
divested yourself of that negativity? <o:p></o:p></div>
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I certainly hope so. I mean sure, people are dead, still
dead, even more dead and dying. And sure, the police officers who killed these
people are free, with no sense of accountability, ready to kill again (with
extreme prejudice) or sign that lucrative book deal. Whichever they prefer. Oh
yeah, and the system hasn’t changed either. So the same stuff is going to
happen again and again until we run out of innocents to kill or become too
desensitized to care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But on the bright
side, I know I can sleep at night, because I shared a bunch of hashtags, I
“liked” some scathing articles aimed at people who will never read them and
basically showed the world that I’m totally on the side of people who think randomly
and senselessly killing minorities is a no-no. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Of course, the actual murders were just the appetizer. I too
was a part of the throngs who demanded action and accountability. I too wanted
to see the perpetrators of these crimes, the police officers we entrust with
our lives and safety, explain their actions and get what’s coming to them. I
too was dumbfounded by the fact that other, regular Americans, people who
probably eat the same foods I do, shop at the same stores and watch the same
shows as me, could <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">EVEN THINK </i>of
events in ways that didn’t match my own opinions or views of the world. I too
confused justice and revenge. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But then it was the next morning. The dead people were still
dead, the live ones still alive and it dawned on me that simply having a
viewpoint wasn’t enough to change the world. Breaking into creepy third-world
electronics stores** didn’t change the world. Being really mad and telling
everybody that I was mad and confused didn’t change the world either. I
realized that there was probably very little I could do about it. I’m certainly
not going to don a cape and a mask to dispense justice myself. That sounds far
too involved. And for once it didn’t seem like dumping water on my head for
“awareness” purposes, or bullying people for not voting was going to accomplish
much either. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The way I see it, the world is an unfair place and unfair
shit happens all the time. Including racist shit. And pointless death. If you
want, you can believe in God or karma as cosmic entities who right wrongs all
over the universe and maintain the balance of the force. You can say to
yourself that they’re on the case and in the end things will work out just
fine. More power to you. Delusion is bliss. I’d jump on that train in a moment
if I thought it was productive. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When you ground your kids, they say it’s unfair and you tell
them to deal with it. Why not take your own advice? Think the world operates
differently for you because you’ve got a few extra years, pounds and crotch
hairs than your children? Conceited much? The unfairly killed dead people
didn’t have happy endings and I’m pretty sure that you can do whatever you want
in their names and they won’t care in the slightest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Oh, and before I go, I just want to give an extra shout-out
to the people who keep going on about this <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Conversation
About Racism</b>, they want to have. That’s adorable and totally feasible. It’s
not a patronizing argument to hide behind in the slightest. Hey Americans, stop
being racist and treating people of different races poorly! I’m sure that if we
just sit down and talk things out, we’ll have this sorted in no time. Talking has
worked so well for so many other countries and ethnicities throughout history.
Because deep down people are intelligent, rational and willing to admit that
their viewpoints should be changed. That’s a reasonable thing to assume about
people, right? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, that’s all I have to say about things. Don’t look
for words of wisdom, (from me, or anybody else, to be honest). Don’t look for
solace or peace. Not when it comes to cops who kill 12-year-old boys, or who
choke to death grown men who use their remaining air and the last words on
their lips to explain how that whole breathing thing needs to continue if they
want to live. Not when it comes to racism. Not when it comes to our penal
system or our fellow Americans (both of which are just simply terrible). There
can’t be peace. And the anger will grow and grow with no legit outlet for it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it consumes and spreads out. And that’s how we get super villains and clock
tower snipers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nobody can tuck you in bed at night and send you to sleep
with the satisfying notion that everything will be alright. No news article and
be the balm that soothes your burning heart. The world is unfair. The end.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">*Seriously though, I
managed to “acquire” a BETAMAX player. How random is that?!<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">**Ray-Ray’s Discount
Electronics Boutique on Spencer Road. The Walkmen are on the shelf next to the
BETAMAXs. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-73906629941388216902020-01-18T13:40:00.000-05:002020-01-18T13:41:04.052-05:00I filmed a Commercial, It Went Exactly as Expected<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshTDolGglXD6AW85aq8l8jnfH0OFddshL02eB5dTVTV_webO4m7rFQWZeXhFDjW7j2iq7kcQtDiixDf35MIqV_nJm954sWWqgrpMIaybA2g7NJYYgIiVis4CvnREQXG8-Pg7QjA/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1060" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgshTDolGglXD6AW85aq8l8jnfH0OFddshL02eB5dTVTV_webO4m7rFQWZeXhFDjW7j2iq7kcQtDiixDf35MIqV_nJm954sWWqgrpMIaybA2g7NJYYgIiVis4CvnREQXG8-Pg7QjA/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" width="211" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My olfactory alarm clock went off right on time. I awoke, at
five am, to the smell of coffee brewing six feet away from my sleepy head. If
you’re wondering what an olfactory alarm clock is, it’s exactly what it smells
like: an alarm clock that wakes you up with various scents. Yes, they are real
and yes, I am better than you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I arose and showered. I had already set my clothes out the
previous night; I knew it was going to be a cold day and that I was going to be
outside for most of it, so I coordinated my attire to suit the anticipated
environment. I like setting my clothes and stuff out ahead of time. I dunno, it
makes me feel like a spy, or an action hero, gearing up before going out on a
mission. Makes me feel like I got my shit together and I’m ready for whatever
comes next (unless it’s the Blob. I got no idea how to fight blobs, is it with
sodium or something?).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hopped in my car. His name is BOB. Bob the car. I had
accidentally left my windows down during a major thunderstorm two nights
prior*. I was still dealing with the liquid aftermath the morning of my expected
two-hour drive. The mixture of a cold and wet seat kept me alert for the entire
trip out to the heart of “I ride a horse to school when the tractor is out of
gas” county, Virginia. On this day, I was going to be in a commercial. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWojVXY4X1Q2WjSsWZXE0gfHIgQKyDew6Fb8MixLQ6rRijX0JeP68qoNwWE5qAYNWkNSxtwGasezqbHJlVjQzE2yB5c3zOS5pN9IPcCm6t7sR3AqGjRKuJAuZ9AZN-2oHWAj8cUQ/s1600/tractor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWojVXY4X1Q2WjSsWZXE0gfHIgQKyDew6Fb8MixLQ6rRijX0JeP68qoNwWE5qAYNWkNSxtwGasezqbHJlVjQzE2yB5c3zOS5pN9IPcCm6t7sR3AqGjRKuJAuZ9AZN-2oHWAj8cUQ/s1600/tractor.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now Josh, you’re thinking to yourself through the haze of
the everyday monotony that has consumed your life, how the hell did you get
involved in a commercial, what is it for and can I have your autograph?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To which I say, “please, hold all questions till the end of
the presentation.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The content of the commercial was not the usual fare. It was
neither for a good, or a service. That kinda cuts out a lot of things. Which
makes the guessing what it was for that much harder. I mean, when you picture
me**, in a commercial, you figure it must be for some kind of “after” photo for
6-minute abs workout program. Or perhaps I’m offering elocution lessons. Maybe
I’m finally doing that cook book everybody’s been dying for. Or, (if you’re
nasty) I’m offering my talents as a world-class, lothario, gigolo and
rapscallion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
Bu nay, says I! T’was
a commercial of a <b>Political Nature!</b> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; text-indent: -.5in;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s this, you say? Josh, mired in the quagmire of
political intrigue, debauchery and behind-the scenes-wheeling-and-dealing and
palm-greasing that is the American system of governing? How can this be?
Although you live within the Beltway, you are not a creature of the political
world! You don’t have a bureaucratic bone in your body! You’re not even
registered to vote! What makes you qualified to be in a commercial that could
change the political landscape and form the very basis of bill and lawmaking in
this country for generations to come? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaulKvTXUmg66dxYCoxzqNtW4sF86nHio_SRAVRNk6BkuO1t6h6J6JzePMSxoO8-fmYH441JxZbAd7i5v2u6gjKwbDdDroA0_3qjYi5Quf1Og2vbKd4SfYvdYh_x8K0K5lJH-nQ/s1600/bill.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGaulKvTXUmg66dxYCoxzqNtW4sF86nHio_SRAVRNk6BkuO1t6h6J6JzePMSxoO8-fmYH441JxZbAd7i5v2u6gjKwbDdDroA0_3qjYi5Quf1Og2vbKd4SfYvdYh_x8K0K5lJH-nQ/s1600/bill.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To which I say, “see footnote #2.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What’s even more interesting is the nature of this ad. The
ad has to do with the amount of assault weapons in the United States. Are there
too many? Not enough? Are they being used properly, or improperly? Where can
one buy such a weapon at two on a Saturday morning? (I’m totally asking for a
friend.)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My involvement being featured in the commercial was also
what makes it a little impetuous in its execution. See, I’m a vet. As in, a
veteran of <b>WAR!!!,</b> not somebody who injects themselves with horse
tranquilizers on a regular basis, (although I do that as well) while cutting
off dog balls, (wait a minute, I do that too! I just don’t get paid for it. But
that’s another story.) And therefore, as a vet, (and certified fucking American
Hero, which will be on my tombstone) my appearance in a political ad about the
second amendment could be deemed controversial or biased. While shooting (the
commercial, not guns) that day, everybody from the camera people, to the
director, to craft services, to the cute chick with the deep eyes, asked me if
I felt comfortable if I were to become the face of the statement this ad was
making. Did it fit into my personal views and philosophies? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To which I replied, “the paycheck fits into my bank
account!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9e-UssxvelYs690NP7XJ8h8CZ4D_E0y0xZTjsp-1ujIzIWLWB3bKnmoAbUmyUhqZ78226nfgTw9JnVLALz4hXXL9KPlOU8yhGCLxi-1lOuTuTA_dk8LRduLS4Knh3fkDwcIoOg/s1600/money.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO9e-UssxvelYs690NP7XJ8h8CZ4D_E0y0xZTjsp-1ujIzIWLWB3bKnmoAbUmyUhqZ78226nfgTw9JnVLALz4hXXL9KPlOU8yhGCLxi-1lOuTuTA_dk8LRduLS4Knh3fkDwcIoOg/s1600/money.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day of shooting was indeed long and cold and I had to
repeat the same lines multiple times until those were the only words I was able
to remember at the end of the day, and I had to read <i>Hop on Pop</i> to
regain my vocabulary. I don’t know if this ad will ever see the light of day. I
don’t know where it’ll be shown, or whose campaign it would be for, or even who
the client is, (which can only mean one thing: the Free Masons have teamed up
with the Illuminati and the Bronies to control us!). But all in all, it was
fun, I’m not the worst in front of a camera. And I managed to stuff my pockets
full of snacks from craft services.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What more can you ask for? I’ll see you at the unveiling of
my star on the Walk of Fame. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
*<i>I save money on car washes, both inside and out, with
the natural water-power of rain. I’m a genius</i>. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>**I’m Josh</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-9110942500330264782019-12-31T09:50:00.000-05:002019-12-31T09:50:43.486-05:00Cheap and Easy Home Repairs Guaranteed to Increase Value<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7z0aLUWrDi00djm2zNCnx9hndyFnOaYwz8KS1thm6LjH7HaGRZV_-zC8wP9Ocj6tRhmRVpcC3oZ3mIDyhE41Dnof2t9VJ7kWLier1Onxe2KE3egJjAjtgQZwd9a6omqkNNtxaVw/s1600/bob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7z0aLUWrDi00djm2zNCnx9hndyFnOaYwz8KS1thm6LjH7HaGRZV_-zC8wP9Ocj6tRhmRVpcC3oZ3mIDyhE41Dnof2t9VJ7kWLier1Onxe2KE3egJjAjtgQZwd9a6omqkNNtxaVw/s1600/bob.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Host</i>: Hello, and welcome to another episode of <i>Improve
or Move!</i>, I’m your host, Bob Villa. Today we’re here at 84 Glyde St., in
Toledo, Ohio. This three-bedroom, two-bathroom ranch-style house is 1,500
square feet and is situated on 2 acres of land in the prime, on-the-rise
neighborhood of Prizraki Quarter, on the west side of Toledo.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This home was built in 1956 and seems to be situated above not
just one, but 14 Indian Burial Sites, six Pet Semataries, nine burned down
insane asylums, four orphanages where the children all died from radon
poisoning*, two interdimensional Celtic portals (one straight to Hell, one to
where the Cenobites live), 12 alien anal-probing encounters and is also the
location of where Kanye proposed to Kim. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And yet, even with all that territorial bad juju, the family
that moved in two years ago, the Maitlands, had not truly experienced anything
paranormal until, well, just a few months ago, isn’t that right Adam?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: That’s right Bob. About four months ago. We
started to experience some spooky occurrences: doors opening, windows closing,
chairs stacking themselves in impossible ways. You know, the base level stuff.
We asked our neighbors if they had heard our screams of terror at night or
experienced strange happenings themselves. They told us to just relax, it’s
normal around here and it’ll run its course soon. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Did it?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: Hell no Bob! Things just escalated. First our
reflections in the mirror tried chocking us every time we brushed our teeth or
hair. Next, the refrigerator tried to eat us. Then the elevator started opening
its doors and gallons upon gallons of blood would come pouring out. This is a
one-story house Bob, where’d the elevator come from?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Was there anything else?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: Oh sure. There was the knock knock…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Ah yes. Knocking on walls and whatnot is very
typical of these types of situations. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: Not knocking Bob. <i>Knock knock jokes</i>! Do
you know how many times you can hear about interrupting cows or how “orange you
glad I didn’t say banana” before you go insane? The jokes were so bad, they
made the maggots the spirits put in our food seem subdued in comparison.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Maggots are a great source of protein. Anyway
Adam, let me give you a quick rundown on what we’re going to be doing to your
house this episode. First, we’re going to take out your cement driveway. We’re
instead going to replace it with gravel made out of pulverized stone from the
dungeons under the Tower of London. Those medieval cells were consecrated by
Pope Pullum Stercore the Cowering. Let’s go over there now and check it out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hi Faustus, what can you tell us about this new driveway?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Faustus</i>: Well Bob, we imported this gravel all the
way from England. This stone has absorbed the suffering and pain of hundreds of
guilty and innocent souls throughout the generations and as such makes a great
“roach motel” for ghosts. Spooks check in, but they don’t check out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Great! And over here Adam you’ll see that we
adding Inca-era gargoyles to the eaves of your house. See how they’re spread
out every 6.66 feet and basically circle the whole house? You’ll get excellent
360-degree protection with these babies. The glyphs inscribed on the base of
each one is a powerful incantation. These grotesqueries will ward off anything
from a low-ranking wandering specter, to a poltergeist, to little drowned white
girls, all the way to demons from the sixth circle of Hades. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: Why do they all look like horribly-visaged succubae,
ready to strip the flesh from our bones?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: They actually look like Kesha, and that’s to
scare away solicitors and Jehovah’s Witnesses. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoBAJHdUES7VkfOYYrJTKFFAH-hop-IOOJTfL8d1XIlAB7A2ofgxafzTVFw7Z-fUHQyhyphenhyphentW3cGBHRjcLMxHvWohmTMHEKX08MJeSt3SJmWAzAGNSm23StQm3ZMoiMvA6yK86_-Q/s1600/kesha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAoBAJHdUES7VkfOYYrJTKFFAH-hop-IOOJTfL8d1XIlAB7A2ofgxafzTVFw7Z-fUHQyhyphenhyphentW3cGBHRjcLMxHvWohmTMHEKX08MJeSt3SJmWAzAGNSm23StQm3ZMoiMvA6yK86_-Q/s1600/kesha.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Adam</i>: Cleaning the gutters is going to suck now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Come around to the backyard so we can show you
what else we’re working on…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Worker</i>: Bob! Bob! We’ve got a slight emergency over
here by the air conditioning unit. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: What is it, Gus?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Gus</i>: As you know, instead of functioning as it
should, the AC unit has been blowing the feted, putrid air of a thousand
bloated, rotting corpses throughout the house. Well, the Voodoo High Priest who
was supposed to come today and bless the unit with spells, chicken heads and
incense, missed his flight and according to Santeria law, he’s not allowed to
board another plane until after a goat has been sacrificed during the third
full moon in one month. And we’re just not budgeted for that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Bob</i>: Okay, we’ll go with the backup. Bring out the
Tibetan Shaman and we’ll set up the Mandalas. Easy fix!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFM6fUCymf8hQAAo9ItTpCKeq7RtBrJKrtuSGpcMtgPJmuijH0_iY4hy085rYCKZOUf_2FLd1IzS3eB4juR-CIhb1dNOvsdwidtCy4UL5hyphenhyphentnqcVOxUyHRdxL_WVZWVNvGvflJeA/s1600/MANDALA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFM6fUCymf8hQAAo9ItTpCKeq7RtBrJKrtuSGpcMtgPJmuijH0_iY4hy085rYCKZOUf_2FLd1IzS3eB4juR-CIhb1dNOvsdwidtCy4UL5hyphenhyphentnqcVOxUyHRdxL_WVZWVNvGvflJeA/s1600/MANDALA.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well, that’s about it today on <i>Improve or Move!</i>. Tune
in next time when we install, for the Maitlands, a breakfast séance nook,
remodel Adam’s study into a library to house grimoires to fight the forces of
malevolence and we crank up the Holy Water Hot Tub out back. Remember: the
Power of Christ compels you to have a good week. Bye everybody!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">*<i>The silent killer!</i></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/hpaiheykhm.js"></script>
<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-83654990242253108612019-12-29T09:36:00.000-05:002019-12-29T09:36:46.663-05:00First Days Shouldn’t Turn Out Like This…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKl0ye4RYAhS0sm1Xii4aVPLF_IxYFkRtnE6RcBAnHUysbyzI5bzru33Mry8aO5Gpyr-jR4fLWCx2bi_cCsji_Y0oNqJWlfqGc5wiBgV3NXjtnkQh2r820gaZPGYxnzEPivE9Vg/s1600/biff+co.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="248" data-original-width="203" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFKl0ye4RYAhS0sm1Xii4aVPLF_IxYFkRtnE6RcBAnHUysbyzI5bzru33Mry8aO5Gpyr-jR4fLWCx2bi_cCsji_Y0oNqJWlfqGc5wiBgV3NXjtnkQh2r820gaZPGYxnzEPivE9Vg/s1600/biff+co.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">My alarm went off at 5:30 am. It was still dark, but I
wanted to make sure I was clearheaded and prepared for my first day of work at
Biff Co. Of course, I needn't had worried, sleep wasn't really an option. Too
nervous. So instead, I just ended up just reading Jerry Van Dyke's
autobiography: </span><i style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Don't Forget I Exist Too</i><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsDNVc6ZmYlxiRwiDh42AINcUO_Yj7bEDRFNesCSHa4tqaPsp6hRIZdh9LjVbWN04XDsVgxlaz_1nKWXc5mFsDkagt5NDwNxBH4DUkDxfNEGi01neZWaPcWSniNxvjYll4vQfLQ/s1600/jerry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJsDNVc6ZmYlxiRwiDh42AINcUO_Yj7bEDRFNesCSHa4tqaPsp6hRIZdh9LjVbWN04XDsVgxlaz_1nKWXc5mFsDkagt5NDwNxBH4DUkDxfNEGi01neZWaPcWSniNxvjYll4vQfLQ/s1600/jerry.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">Fearing my lack of sleep would come to bite me in the ass
later, I injected 300 CCs of caffeine straight into my jugular. A quick bowl of
muktuk for energy and protein, (yeah, I know it’s a dessert, but I wanted to
treat myself) and I was out the door.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I didn't have to be there until 9, and it was only a
15-minute trip, but I left my tree house apartment at 7:45 am just to make sure
I didn't get lost and because I wanted to get a good spot. Plus, the bosses
always like to see employees’ cars in the parking lot early, Never hurts to get
in those brownie points. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Imagine my surprise when I got to the lot and the guard
told me I couldn't park there because it was full. I looked through my front
windshield and through the wire fence in front of my car. The place was so
barren it looked ripe for two gunfighters to have a duel at any moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"Ummm, it looks completely empty to me, ma'am,"
I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"No, it isn't. Move along," she replied. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the early hour, but my
brain couldn't fathom her words. I looked again. It was somehow even more empty
the second time, like some kind of Bermuda Triangle of parking. In the end, I
just turned around and drove aimlessly until I could find a spot. I must have
been in the "Little Cybertron" area of the city, because both sides
of the street were occupied by vehicles. Busses, cars, hovercrafts, segways,
penny-farthings, there were no open spots. So I just put my car in neutral,
opened the door and bailed, tucking and rolling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">As my car crashed into the orphanage behind me and
exploded, I walked into the building and up to the main desk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"Good morning. My name is Josh and I'm here for my
first day as a Snicklefritz-Enabler. I was told to meet Dr. Brooks here for
orientation?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">"Yes Mr. Hsoj. She's in her office on the seventh
and a half floor. When you get off the elevator, make a right and her office
should be the third door on the left. If you see Mr. Malkovich's office, you've
gone too far." the receptionist said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I got on the elevator and stood there scratching my head,
trying to figure out which button to press until somebody else walked in and hit
the button for the eighth floor. As the elevator ascended, I decided to be
gregarious and make as many friends as possible, to start things off on the
good foot, as James Brown once said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Hi, my name is Jo…” I froze as I saw my lift companion, my
arm locked halfway to hand-shake position. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Firstly, I was looking too far up for eye-contact. And by
too far up, I mean eye-level. This person was short. I’d say approximately the
height of three apples stacked on top of each other. Secondly, he was blue. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“You’re a Smurf,” I stuttered.* <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-pbsqLK1ihFgoeoQPnyjOrlfb2YaTAEr8ziTlIuh8tC-5qaLjCZzPY3cLek7dSUVDyzc-Nj22CrvsjjRbQIE0oIu_JOXp65jkgb0ZaNzTk6SSCrICs29Y_K4pjgvP_mpmGPSUQ/s1600/grumpy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc-pbsqLK1ihFgoeoQPnyjOrlfb2YaTAEr8ziTlIuh8tC-5qaLjCZzPY3cLek7dSUVDyzc-Nj22CrvsjjRbQIE0oIu_JOXp65jkgb0ZaNzTk6SSCrICs29Y_K4pjgvP_mpmGPSUQ/s1600/grumpy.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">“No shit, Sherlock,” he said, extending his hand to shake
mine. “The name’s Ulcer Smurf. And don’t ask why,” he added, effectively
shutting me down just as my lips were about to form the interrogative. “What
department you in Fish?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Ummm, I’m in, in Snicklefritz Murders and Executions.
I’m the new enabler.” I managed to say to, until a minute ago, what I thought
was a fictitious piece of Belgian lore. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Ha! Good luck Noob,” Ulcer said and then stepped off the
elevator because we had reached his floor. I then pressed the button for seven
and went down a level.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">I eventually found the 7<sup>th</sup> and a half floor
hallway by flushing the third urinal in the women’s bathroom and opening a
hidden panel. I made my way to Dr. Brooks’ office and knocked. The was no
answered. So I knocked again. Again, silence was my only reply. As I turned to
walk away, there was a knocking on the door from the inside. So, with a shrug,
I said “come on in?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Out walked a woman who had clearly stopped shopping for
office attire after seeing the 1988 movie <i>Working Girl</i>. Her shoulder
pads were big enough to make her a first-string blocker. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Thanks for the compliment,” she said. “I have a special
guy from Cambodia. He only sells me the finest shoulder pads.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">What the hell? I thought. Can she read minds?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“No doofus, you’re speaking out loud. You must be Josh,
our rookie. Morning Rook!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Good morning Dr. Brooks. I’m just happy to be here
working for Biff Co. It’s been a lifelong…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">“Spare me Rook. Get off the nipple, I already pay a guy
to yank on my tits and he’s better at it than you. So let’s cut to the chase
and I’ll show you what you’ll be doing here at Biff Co. Both today, and (baring
any unfortunate circumstances) for the rest of your natural life!” she
chortled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">And with that, she took me by the hand and we walked into
an ever increasingly misty corridor. What was I in for?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Calibri",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">*Wait a minute. How the fuck did a Smurf
manage to hit the button for the eighth floor?!?!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-47645644235696607762019-12-28T09:46:00.004-05:002019-12-28T09:46:44.593-05:00Josh’s Notes: Ethan Frome, a.k.a. Sonny Bono ain’t shit<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsfbLdzCBVQuYdWNo7lpHH0HvQeeklC-pUv6acv93vcVbCPzWfWNoErPdQPkO_o_byKT07ujIycbO5kES9Fu_h-9gMCHXru48h_EWShovApKsZr5i9hmYk92fazPjfftpDY1pWQ/s1600/frome+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="207" data-original-width="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsfbLdzCBVQuYdWNo7lpHH0HvQeeklC-pUv6acv93vcVbCPzWfWNoErPdQPkO_o_byKT07ujIycbO5kES9Fu_h-9gMCHXru48h_EWShovApKsZr5i9hmYk92fazPjfftpDY1pWQ/s1600/frome+painting.jpg" /></a></div>
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You know what pissed me off about high school? No, not the
fact that we had to get up at “O Dark Thirty” To get there in time for the
first class at 7 am or some shit. And no, not the fact that my lunch was at
10:30 for some ridiculous reason. And no, not my lack of fashion sense. That
one’s on me, I don’t know how fashion or clothes work. I shopped from
dumpsters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, what I hated were those stupid books they made us read
in English class. Shit that no teenager in their right mind would ever read on
their own, (except for <i>The Cather in the Rye</i>, that’s my second favorite
book and I shan’t hear otherwise!) <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Typically, for these situations we would all do some ‘90s
life hacks and just go buy Cliff’s Notes. Cliff was a smart dude. He made an
assload of money off of lazy, stupid kids. God bless the American dream. And now,
I decided to get in on the action. So I’m doing Josh’s Notes, for books that
kids are forced to read much like Alex with his eyes forced open in <i>A
Clockwork Orange</i>. And I will begin with a book that I recall to be
especially lame (cause it’s got romance and girly stuff in it) and boring
(because it takes place in New England) stuff all up in it: <i>Ethan Frome</i>.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once upon a time, back in ye olden days, when there were
more horses than cars on the roads, lived a man named Ethan Frome in the small
town of Monotonous, Massahamprhodemont, the 15<sup>th</sup> and a half state, (<b>State
Motto</b>: <i>Does anybody remember what color grass is?). </i>Ethan walks
around the town with a gangsta lean that intrigues some new dude who came to
town to, I dunno, start a snow bingo parlor? It’s not important. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, New Dude is intrigued by Ethan and his limp, (bonus
points to you if you can explain to me how that makes sense) so much so that he
starts to ask the townsfolk what Frome’s deal is. Everybody, from the cobbler,
to the blacksmith, the barkeep and the haberdasher, (those seem like jobs in
the late 19<sup>th</sup> century, right?). And people all basically tell him
the same thing: there was a “smash-up”. And refuse to explain any further. Curiosity
abounds for this cat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What does a “smash-up” mean to you? To me it means two dudes
charging at each other while wearing helmets and ramming each other like deer
or any animals with antlers. Of course the guys would have to be drunk first,
that’s just a given. But no. The real answer is even stupider. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPCe0v_D2Ces5S5vuT2jQARCtQBAHxhlOD-gGJQRly71DZFxrp09V5JjXjo_jMhaUYftPFk8Hef8eKEpahZYE45pdOoBw47N3Op9nhpF82Rlwx8Js44AeL_72Uw-XFIGAGxUALg/s1600/drunk+dudes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPCe0v_D2Ces5S5vuT2jQARCtQBAHxhlOD-gGJQRly71DZFxrp09V5JjXjo_jMhaUYftPFk8Hef8eKEpahZYE45pdOoBw47N3Op9nhpF82Rlwx8Js44AeL_72Uw-XFIGAGxUALg/s1600/drunk+dudes.jpg" /></a></div>
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But I’ll get to that later.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So one day, during a brutal snowstorm, (or as they call it:
Tuesday) newbie is stuck in Ethan’s house overnight. Which gives him a chance
to bug Ethan about his past, 25 years ago. Now keep in mind, this guy isn’t a
journalist, he’s not a biographer, he’s just some nosey weirdo who wants to
know why Ethan has a limp. That’s like going up to a “little person” and asking
how they ended up being so short. Gauche! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here’s where the icky romance comes in. Ethan has a wife,
but she’s sick and a total load. To help take care of her and the house, you
know, wife stuff, they bring in his wife’s cousin. By the way, the wife’s name
is Zenobia, so you already know she’s gonna be a bitch. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ethan and the cousin, Mattie, spend a lot of time together,
working the farm, doing the dishes, playing Settlers of Cattan, whatever. And
in their time together they both fall in love (gag!). But because this is stoic-as-hell
New England, they’re too proper and uptight to admit it to each other. The best
they can do is lingering gazes and the occasional brushing of hands when
passing the milk jug or lice brush. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, even though she’s bedridden, (Except for when
she’s not. Seems psychosomatic to me.) Zendaya soon figures out that those two
got a thing going on and decides to send Mattie away and get another servant
girl. Preferably one from Brazil who is immune to the cold and walks around the
house in the skimpiest frock woven out of burlap available in 1895. That’d be
my choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Ethan takes Mattie to the train station, they pass a hill
that they had once hoped to sled down, because that is something adults love to
do. Go sledding. As they prepare for a run down the hill, Mattie suggests a
suicide pact. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmMDkNhyiPrZgh_iYfXkgYRWYRjVzxpqosU3AoLg1d99itoMDZIw1oi2xaRlokmQ15o_-sTGxxTJ2bpynSHhlsum9HzWO4zBAVuW4FwXnI7otPrSVulu_FxgHhJxCdW4xYiLEjw/s1600/frome+blood.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmMDkNhyiPrZgh_iYfXkgYRWYRjVzxpqosU3AoLg1d99itoMDZIw1oi2xaRlokmQ15o_-sTGxxTJ2bpynSHhlsum9HzWO4zBAVuW4FwXnI7otPrSVulu_FxgHhJxCdW4xYiLEjw/s1600/frome+blood.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let’s break this down.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So far in the book, they have only kissed once. That’s it.
They’ve never seen each other’s anything. They’ve haven’t done anything. The book’s
author, Edith “I was never held as a child” Wharton, fancies herself some sort
of American Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet never consummated their love either.
Those “star-crossed lovers” and Ethan and Mattie all have the same mental
defect. They’re all about some pure “love beats all” kind of thing where they
only think about the moment and not the future. I’d love to see a Romeo &
Juliet 2, where they have to get a studio apartment and Romeo tries to make it
as a fortune cookie writer and Juliet drives for Uber and their landlords are
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, because, why not?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eventually, instead of running away from an obviously
insane, demented person, Ethan agrees. So, they hop on their sled, “Cool
Runnings” and go down the hill, aiming for a big ass tree to crash into. As far
as suicide attempts go, I give them points for originality. But I also have to
take those points away for stupidity. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If
you’re gonna go out, suicide by cop is always the best. Driving a sled into a
tree is as effective as trying to slit your wrists with a series of papercuts. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5e696ftxAfM9ROhiQvyUb5trnjrpel3w-gvogATPyu4Kl329C-1rZx1gTkBYsQVnVkWpzObyktCbjj6Av7aPsiIAD1Scv4MSZBR3Y9OO6Fko3joQ0ifGFIj_IITtToqJfwbA1g/s1600/Frome+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB5e696ftxAfM9ROhiQvyUb5trnjrpel3w-gvogATPyu4Kl329C-1rZx1gTkBYsQVnVkWpzObyktCbjj6Av7aPsiIAD1Scv4MSZBR3Y9OO6Fko3joQ0ifGFIj_IITtToqJfwbA1g/s1600/Frome+tree.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Clearly, Ethan didn’t die. Also, Mattie didn’t die, awkward…
But she’s an invalid and stuck in bed and now Zuul, or whatever I said her name
is, has to take care of her and Ethan and everybody is miserable. The end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So there you have it. Ethan Frome. Aren’t you glad you
didn’t have to actually read it? Not a fucking ninja is sight! Join me next
time, when I give notes on <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i>. Or maybe <i>The
Davinci Code</i>. Who knows? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-5883125855609188522019-12-09T09:01:00.000-05:002019-12-09T09:01:54.598-05:00Group Therapy Gets Results!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZL3zQJNRmW33x0tB-YDA6H7V0NvGBj7HdA2o0NB-RNWsH98o2f7P9Qsjw1ZD_JKzGcBQ4wLCkyRF4pyCdYChlAuAuUWEAgH1ZPeVgNxwzNx7kv-KXCU1TRR48y6To-jSFYCb9Q/s1600/therapy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1600" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPZL3zQJNRmW33x0tB-YDA6H7V0NvGBj7HdA2o0NB-RNWsH98o2f7P9Qsjw1ZD_JKzGcBQ4wLCkyRF4pyCdYChlAuAuUWEAgH1ZPeVgNxwzNx7kv-KXCU1TRR48y6To-jSFYCb9Q/s320/therapy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dr. Gooch</b>: Good evening everybody. I want to welcome
you all to tonight’s SA meeting. I see we have some new faces here. That’s
always good. Spreading the word of what we are doing is always a plus. We’re
here for support. To help each other and ourselves and I think that we’re doing
a good job. Remember, progress happens at your own speed; it isn’t a contest.
Most importantly, we just want to share our stories and to show that we’re not
all alone out there in the world. We’re a community. We have much in common and
together, we can grow. And if we choose to, change.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In that vein, Fred, would you like to go first and share what’s
going on with you and how you feel?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD1L7x4uHKShuHKZ4jYPVZTlHcXxPo_S_qyCVCv_5yRYsTWUjRpkshNfuUPpDY7bShx1IHKn1rtoZhFl-MpECSneu6bnaoyDb9qQq79Chuz34zwVA7zz4TGierwgSDvt-kUViPQ/s1600/katz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCD1L7x4uHKShuHKZ4jYPVZTlHcXxPo_S_qyCVCv_5yRYsTWUjRpkshNfuUPpDY7bShx1IHKn1rtoZhFl-MpECSneu6bnaoyDb9qQq79Chuz34zwVA7zz4TGierwgSDvt-kUViPQ/s1600/katz.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Fred</b>: Okay, sure. Hello, my name is Freddy and I’m a
Slasher.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Group</b>: Hi Freddy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Freddy</b>: Hi. Ummm. So I feel like I’m kind of in a rut
at work. Back in the 70s, I was known as the Springwood Slasher, and I was very
proud of that. It was very early in my career as a Slasher. I was abusing kids
and killing them left and right. I know what some people might say, killing
kids is easy, but in some ways, isn’t that what makes it fun?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>*murmurs of assent around the circle of chairs*<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, after I hit the big time, I switched from kids to
teens. It was great at first, I got a lot more cardio in, I got to explore
their imaginations and express myself more creatively. But then, after stalking
teens for the last 40 or so years, it’s gotten to be very routine, you know?
How many ditzy blondes can a guy kill in their dreams? They don’t have
imaginations! Their idea of a horrible nightmare is being a size too big when
they go shopping. It’s so boring.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jason</b>: So true.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dr. Gooch</b>: Did you have something you’d like to say
Jason?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jason</b>: In fact, I do. Hello, my name’s Jason and I’m
a Slasher. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Group</b>: Hello Jason.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m in total agreement with Fred. While I don’t employ the
same techniques as he does, I do work in the teen field, more specifically, the
vapid, horny verity. What’s even worse is that I’m hamstrung by pretty much
only operating one season a year. It’s so monotonous murdering idiotic,
sun-tanned teens in regrettable-looking short shorts every summer. Of the few
times I was allowed to leave my usual spots, I pretty much just went to NYC and
was killed before I got any good sightseeing in, or I went to outer space where
I got killed before I even figured out how space toilets work. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dr. Gooch</b>: Well, it does sound like you’re both are
just kind of going through the motions. Have you considered branching out?
Maybe targeting smart teens perhaps? How about, say, killing kids who win
science fairs? Or valedictorians only?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jason</b>: Gees, thanks doc. What am I, a bully? Come on,
it’s 2020. That’s intelligence shamming! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Freddy</b>: He has a point Dr. Gooch. While they may be
stupider, at least jocks and camp counselors give you a little more bang for
your buck. I once killed a nerd using comic book characters. It was so
embarrassing, I almost quit right there. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXEW2JzaFpnVTXmajyxSRZZHhtzZNzAZWQWZx6p-UnScGmLKEhlgj12BFakmb_elIawh3LtyTBa9z4CZ7C0A8NihE2xUzFSsXQMvklihRrHD1dcpK-tvQWybLfa5qeGK0B1_IYg/s1600/tools+of+the+trade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlXEW2JzaFpnVTXmajyxSRZZHhtzZNzAZWQWZx6p-UnScGmLKEhlgj12BFakmb_elIawh3LtyTBa9z4CZ7C0A8NihE2xUzFSsXQMvklihRrHD1dcpK-tvQWybLfa5qeGK0B1_IYg/s1600/tools+of+the+trade.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dr. Gooch</b>: Okay, if that’s not to your liking,
perhaps others is the group can offer suggestions?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Michael</b>: Howdy everybody, you all know me, you know
how I make my living. I’m Michael and I’m a Slasher.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Group</b>: Hi Mike.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Michael</b>: So, I think with you guys, you’ve both taken
your specialization too far. You start with some kind of vengeance motive, which
is both classic and an appropriate approach in our line of work, but you then
limit yourselves by who you deem qualifies to be in a very small category…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Freddy</b>: Says the guy who has been trying to kill the
same sister for the last fifty years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Michael</b>: Hey! She might not be my sister, jury’s
still out on that. Also, I’m pretty sure I killed her almost 20 years ago. I
guess it didn’t stick. Anyway, I don’t just try to kill one person, I also kill
everybody who gets in my way. While you guys like to hide and make your
potential victims look like crazy, hallucinating morons, I just get straight to
the point. I want to drive that car? Kill the guy with the car keys. I want
that kitchen knife? Kill that housewife with a different kitchen knife and then
trade up. You randomly have a William Shatner mask? I’mma stab you in the
crotchular region and take it. See? It’s very fulfilling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Jason</b>: You have a point, but also, you’re not supernatural
like the rest of us. So you can’t afford the luxury of stalking on our level.
The best you can do is hide under sheets or in closets for, like, five minutes.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Michael</b>: Wow. Not supernatural. You had to go there?
Way to rub it in Vorhees. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Pinhead</b>: Gentlemen, may I suggest that you are going
about this all wrong? The killing is only one aspect of what we do. We must
always remember to bathe in the sweet mixture of agony and ecstasy that we
create. Ours is an existence of both dark and light. The desires of the flesh
and the exquisite suffering of the soul. To that end, you should make sure you
have plenty of chains and sharp hooks and be sure that your prey is completely
nak…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Group</b>: Pass!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFaGi60V8XpiZV3J1_scD5I40CB_TEQqVGkSvfYTzxLqRMhmQMCCz_7Eut1udeZNXYeCR2nxi9HOL5FWPPiwCSmZXkWIekR6pjtwRdMjqgzS1Ma7AcdAROa-F4ypUqxn1XRaJ6Q/s1600/pinhead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDFaGi60V8XpiZV3J1_scD5I40CB_TEQqVGkSvfYTzxLqRMhmQMCCz_7Eut1udeZNXYeCR2nxi9HOL5FWPPiwCSmZXkWIekR6pjtwRdMjqgzS1Ma7AcdAROa-F4ypUqxn1XRaJ6Q/s1600/pinhead.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Freddy</b>: Man, I’m a child molester and you go too far
even for me. Stop mixing the pain and pleasure stuff!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Candyman</b>: I don’t know, I thought he made some valid
points. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Dr. Gooch</b>: Okay, let’s put a pin in it there for now,
and we’ll all come back for the next Slashers Anonymous meeting on Tuesday.
Leatherface, I believe you’ll be in charge of refreshments for that?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Leatherface</b>: You know it! I hope everybody is down
with the paleo diet, cause there’s gonna be plenty of meat.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Group</b>: Hard Pass!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31606817.post-66995545190347058352019-12-06T09:15:00.000-05:002019-12-06T09:15:13.147-05:00Noshin' While Joshin'<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxeMH5Ep2X6vHv-BdwagBK7lqOidDBGAmeRREJC-cC1F1lbM0RQi1f-zuZu4TZl3ns-Nbq_kN18udY4Sx4K3dKkS92LJ0P-nuWLpyYGkju9YYzwf1pcSrQLSqAZR5DDbKS4aOtQ/s1600/diesel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="259" data-original-width="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVxeMH5Ep2X6vHv-BdwagBK7lqOidDBGAmeRREJC-cC1F1lbM0RQi1f-zuZu4TZl3ns-Nbq_kN18udY4Sx4K3dKkS92LJ0P-nuWLpyYGkju9YYzwf1pcSrQLSqAZR5DDbKS4aOtQ/s1600/diesel.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Josh</i>: They were
huge stars in their heyday. Stars of music, television and movies. But exactly
where are they now? That’s tonight’s topic on “<b>Nosh with Josh</b>”, the show where I interview a group of fascinating
people, while offering them some yummy snack food, because my fridge just died
and this shit will spoil soon anyway. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">applause</i>)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our panelists tonight are some very interesting “blasts from
the past.” And we’ll get to them in a moment, but first, let’s take a look at
today’s noshibles! Here, behind me, you’ll notice what appear to be normal
corn dogs, but instead of typical beef franks inside, it’s actually scrumptious
penguin meat! Next to that we have onion rings. The interesting thing about
these onions is that they comprise the entire harvest this year of the <span style="background: white; color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Fahrvergnügen Tribe of the Southern Amazon. They most likely
won’t survive the year. C’est la vie! Lastly, we have a nice, light salad with
spinach leaves drizzled with gold and tomatoes dipped in silver. It is entirely
inedible! But damn it looks good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background: white; color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">applause</i>)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now with the food being presented, let’s move on to our
guests tonight. Up first is the original sexy, muscular man himself: Gerardo!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gerardo</i>: Hola. Good
to be here, somewhere…anywhere actually. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: How very
depressing. Next, on Gerardo’s left, we have our favorite Big Fat Miposian
Cousin: Bronson Pinchot!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bronson</i>: Hi Josh.
By the way, quick question: what does penguin taste like?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Buttery, juicy heaven. But don’t take my word for it, mosey
on over there and try a corn dog. As a special treat, the mustard is infused
with Salma Hayek’s breast milk! Alright, next up is the adorable munchkin who
knows the weight of a human head: Jonathan Lipnicki!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jonathan</i>: Thanks and hello Josh! Wanna know how much my DICK
weighs?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: I can have security drag your adorable ass out of here with a
snap of my fingers. Lastly and very much least, we have “That dude you know who
peaked in high school!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That dude</i>: Hey man, good to…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: It sure is. Why don’t you stuff your face with some food
while the rest of grown-ups talk?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jonathan</i>: Well actually, I think he’s older than I am. I mean, I
know I didn’t go to high school with that guy. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: I can feel the migraine forming already. Mr. Suave! Let’s
start with you. What are you up to these days? Still getting those residuals 21
years later?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gerardo</i>: Listen man! I’m sick of this! Ever since that goddamn song
came out (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in 1991!) </i>People think my
name is Rico Suave. Everywhere I go, it’s Rico this, Suave that. It’s
never-ending. It’s inescapable. My life is a nightmare that only the sweet
release of death can fix. I am <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">GERARDO!!!!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7qw7vW38qfhclTiLvgTNTKD05-dZjs_SPSO7s11WS3MOysxSxSJ7huPZZTVJfSdvwDwnjOAJn-i-FqyYNlXi3lcY8jArpyfSmZgEZiFMVuF4_XgXwWB8c4B6-K8gKQyAd1Tdfw/s1600/gerardo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="244" data-original-width="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd7qw7vW38qfhclTiLvgTNTKD05-dZjs_SPSO7s11WS3MOysxSxSJ7huPZZTVJfSdvwDwnjOAJn-i-FqyYNlXi3lcY8jArpyfSmZgEZiFMVuF4_XgXwWB8c4B6-K8gKQyAd1Tdfw/s1600/gerardo.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Josh</i>: Ha ha ha! I know what your name is, I just don’t care.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gerardo</i>: That’s the response I usually get. I’m not really up to
much these days. Just getting by. On the bright side, it looks like acid-washed
jeans with holes in the knees are coming back, so maybe I’ll be back in style
one day?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Keep hope
alive man. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(<i>applause</i>)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Moving on to Mr. Pinchot, tell me sir, you were a huge star in the 80s,
everywhere people went, they’d see your giant schnozzle on their tv and movie
screens. How’s life treating you these days in Mipos? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bronson</i>: That’s
both funny and original. For the last few decades I’ve been doing a lot of
voiceover work, kids’ shows, video games, cartoons, I dip my fingers into a lot
of different pies. Very lucrative. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6bY6zbUe84yakuMYojshnIWanBFeYoZ3bMz_lrbsrnQEgeHOsg5yyJY3GnecS1UdE0OISFcERhO0uNiYQClKVcthzcdxmOnuBtsogtyPxwum1bRoVSejwKSDBN8yBC96yk6Bnw/s1600/nalki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="249" data-original-width="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6bY6zbUe84yakuMYojshnIWanBFeYoZ3bMz_lrbsrnQEgeHOsg5yyJY3GnecS1UdE0OISFcERhO0uNiYQClKVcthzcdxmOnuBtsogtyPxwum1bRoVSejwKSDBN8yBC96yk6Bnw/s1600/nalki.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>That dude</i>: Hey, I
remember you man! You’re that Urkel kid! You used to say “Not the Mamma! Not
th…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bronson & Josh</i>:
Shut up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Well, I’m
glad you’re doing well. Are you going to reprise your famous role of Serge for
the upcoming <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beverly Hills Cop 4</i>?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bronson</i>: What?
There’s going to be another…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Oops, guess
I let the cat out of the bag there. My bad. Maybe some of these delightful
onion rings will make you feel better. Chow down with glee as you think about
how some kid with a distended belly is starving to death far away in the
jungle. Trust me, that’s a better seasoning than salt!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
Next is the little charmer himself: Generic 90s cute kid!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwYdaXApScUi2vvPDK_a-m3lRUfvze9fB2LObLtoRXJCzNSunyhciM2ZgqMMFEwiAa3ucc8kG5d3tO1JOEPFKFKma9CrUpDTBpgK08Pk3BxKs-9uuuBoWF8f2yg_oTK9YogIOeA/s1600/lipnicki.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPwYdaXApScUi2vvPDK_a-m3lRUfvze9fB2LObLtoRXJCzNSunyhciM2ZgqMMFEwiAa3ucc8kG5d3tO1JOEPFKFKma9CrUpDTBpgK08Pk3BxKs-9uuuBoWF8f2yg_oTK9YogIOeA/s1600/lipnicki.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Jonathan</i>: You can
call me John for short.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Like it
matters.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gerardo</i>: See? He’s
an ass! He did the same thing to me!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Silence you!
There’s a bar in the back if you want a cold cerveca. <br />
John! My pint-sized man! What are you up to? Haven’t seen you in…decades, it
seems.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jomathan</i>: Well
actually, much like Balki…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bronson</i>: Hey! Some
professional courtesy?!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jonathan</i>: Sorry,
habit. Anyway, like Bronson, I’ve been doing a lot of stuff. I’m very much
still in the game in Hollywood. My IMDB page is quite extensive. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Oh yeah?
Name one thing besides <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jerry McGuire</i>
that I’ve seen you in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jonathan</i>: …<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dawson’s Creek</i>?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Josh</i>: Thought so.
Well, that’s about it for tonight’s episode of "<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Nosh with Josh"</b>. Join me next time when…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">That dude</i>: Hey,
what about me guy?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Audience</i>: <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">SHUT UP!</b><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="http://www.blogarama.com/" title=\"The Blogs Directory\" >Blogarama</a></div>Joshuahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15283601887548922206noreply@blogger.com0