Poor Little Guy

Adwaita, who died on Wednesday in Calcutta, was apparently 250 years old. That's old. Now the zoo wants to carbon date his shell. You know you've made it when they want to carbon date you. Adwaita apparently arrived at the zoo in 1875. Zoo officials say he was one of four tortoises brought to India by British sailors from the Seychelle islands as a gift for Lord Robert Clive of the East India Company. I won't really get into why the British were there, let's just say it wasn't for a holiday. But that sucks, poor little guy. I wonder if he knew he was old. Do animals really have a perception of time?

Web Effects

Glass doll eyes freak me out, so do the Queen's eyes on old style bills. Her eyes stare at you and follow you with a dead haunting glare.

Farmer Love...Ick

Right. I love my friend Stampy, I do. But come on. Here's chain email I got:

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups, and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of little boy.
"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer.
And with that he let out a whistle. "Here,Dolly!"he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up....
"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully handed it to the little boy. "How much?" asked the little boy. "No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love."

Ok, now, here's what's wrong with this story. No working farmer would humor some random kid. "Thirty five cents? Get the hell outta here kid." That's how that'd go. And is there anyone in this world who finds the fact that a child can't do math charming? I don't think so. I would be soo annoyed having to spend time explaining to some kindergarten drop out that 6 pennies doesn't buy a car. What adult would sell a kid a dog with no parents with him? Odds are you give the kid the dog and you get Jerry deadbeat dad knocking on your door at 3am 2 days later screaming and yelling while the kids crack-head stripper mum is in the car honking the horn and screaming how hungry she is. Most farmers drown the runt of the litter, and I have an idea that some eat them. Why let good meat go to waste? And how the hell did Forest Gump get to the farm anyways? Was he just hobbling down a dirt road hoping to have Daddy Warbucks find him and buy him a new leg? Hell, maybe he'll even learn to do housework! And I don't think farmers even have tear ducts. I'm pretty sure they dry up from years in the sun and having pesticide burning their iris'. And if a farmer starts talking to you about love, he's either a friend of Dorothy or married to his favorite cow Bessie and looking for a 'friend.'

And what about the empty promise at the end? Will I really get my wish at 3am if I send it to 3 people? Because if so, I'm going to suffocate under all that money I wished for.

Do I really have to blog about how much I despise chain emails again?

I Found East India

So I was spinning around at my local Atlas Depot when I stumbled across a very old map. And on that map I found the elusive East India. Knowledge Whore, Christmas has come early for you.

Uh Oh B Rad, I Told You This Would Happen

Look B Rad, your girlfriend is upset, I told you that your Romanian porn would come between you and Ruby. Look, she's been crying in her monogramed cloth hankerchiefs all day, and she even missed her nap and applesauce snack because of it. Now she's mad, she's out for blood. Looks like you're sleeping on the couch tonight.

Haggis, Bagpipes and Nessy (How's That For a Title?)

Why do the bathroom mats have to creep all the way across the floor? You have to keep moving it back every day, or if you're lazy like me, just leaving it until you have to jump halfway across the room to wipe my feet and not fall and crack my bloody skull. I'm knackered enough getting up soo early, co-ordinating the whole hand eye thing when applying shampoo and not poking myself in the gums with my toothbrush. Now I have to play "The Floor is Lava" at 6 o'clock in the morning. And it doesn't seem to matter what size the mat is either, or if it's got grippy rubber things on the bottom, the stupid thing just seems to prefer it in the middle of the floor. Oh come on, I can't be the only one who sees this happening! I just can't be. And do Scottish people actually like Bagpipes? Do they, or are they just playing along because everyone else thinks they like them and it'd be weird if the Scottish didn't like them? I mean, I like Bagpipes as much as I like screeching howler monkeys picking away at my eye balls but they do set up the movie "Braveheart" quite nicely. The next time I talk to someone from Scotland or even someone a quarter Scottish, I'll ask him(or her). I just don't really know where I'd find one. It's not like they have special bars like us Irish. Mind you, we Irish will drink in the alley behind K-Mart filled with severed Kangaroo tails if the price is right. I wonder if I'll find a Scotsman not governed by his duty to his fellow country men to delve the depth of his soul, throw off the shackles of society and speak his truth. What ever it may be. I'd probably have to darken the room and agree to change his voice so he'll not be singled out by his peers. No one likes a whistle-blower. Just think what it'll do to Scotland as a whole. Kids will be crying in their Haggis and men wearing kilts will be suddenly aware of the naked ness and the Lochness Monster just might hide forever, filled with shame and sorrow. I can feel a Pulitzer prize for this soon to be indepth report. Now where the hell do the Scottish hang out?

Bad Mood Bear

Today I'm in a bit of a mood. I can't be annoyed to pretend to care about trivial crap that the rest of you live for. These small things are eating away at my soul. Stupid commercials, Cascade, Cabbage Patch Puppies, Carmex, all crap. Total crap. I hate commercials, if I wanted to be interrupted while watching TV I'd talk to that person. You know who, the person who'll find any excuse to chat while you're watching a program that's actually holding your interest. If I cared about the sodium content in Post Raisin Bran, I'd walk to the grocery store, pick up a box and become that pretentious a-hole who thinks he's better than everyone else because he knows what he's putting into his body. Just stop it you bald, glasses wearing freak. No one thinks you're cool, in fact we think you're a hard retard. Damn commercials. They're always louder than the TV show and the product they're pitching is not even remotely related to the audience. If I watch Ride Guide, I don't really care about Mr. Clean. Who the hell would pair up Ali G with Country Time Lemonade? A total retard that's who. I also now hate advertisers and the director of the commercials. Who the hell wants to be a commercial director? I can't imagine what the Film School reunion is like. "Oh yeah, I've directed 3 Lord of the Rings movies." "I've directed Titanic, what about you Bob?" "Oh yeah, I did the 3 Mr. Clean and last years' Yoplait commercials." Insert crickets here and nervous cough here. My goal is to rid the world of everything I hate.

I started a list of things I hate, it's pretty long, you know, it's amazing how I can funnel my rage into a list. I really didn't think it was possible but eh, here we go. I really do hate stupid commercials, advertisers, whining stupid kids, green beer, orange pants, people who can't take hints, people who give hints so subtle they're impossible to get, and then complain that people can't take hints. People who never give hints in the first place, and then complain that people can't take hints. who swear at me in a foreign language, people who don't respond in metric when I ask about temperature, distance, or volume because they know I don't know the imperial system. Those damn people who try to look and dress like their idols, especially. Kurt Cobain and Marilyn Manson, as if it's somehow going to make them cooler. Then the ones who try to look and dress like their idols, and wear T-shirts featuring the idol they're trying to emulate. I really hate salespeople who have no appreciable knowledge of the product they're selling, and those who try to fake it anyway. Computer geeks at HP who refuse to accept my diagnosis of the problem, even though I know twice as much as them. Conformists, (enough said), and then the "nonconformists" who conform to some nonconformist clique, nerd for whom Star Trek takes precedence over personal hygiene. Eww. Preachey ex-druggies with a mission. (Don't try to preach to me, I'm the one who was smart enough not to do drugs retard) People who give me presents so now I'm obligated to get them one in return, people who give me a present I already have, and now I have to pretend that I'm thrilled to get it, again. Plaid pants. Companies who try to make money off of dead celebrities by selling "commemorative" stamps and dishes and companies who try to make money off of dead musicians by releasing "greatest hits" albums every couple years, with pretty much the same songs on them every time. (Does 2Pac ring a bell???) People who drive slower than I do, people who drive faster than I do. People who pass me while I'm in the passing lane, people who don't signal until halfway into their turn and people who don't signal turns at all. When I'm at the highway and realize I forgot something at home, locking my car keys in my car, and also locking my house keys in my car. Stupid dogs like Poodles, Bichons, Chihuahuas, Yorkshire Terriers, Dachshunds, any other dog whose IQ is equal to its weight in kilograms and the owners who dress them up. People who narrate the movie as it's happening ("He's dead!", "Oh, now they're driving away!"), and the idiot who commands to the characters on the screen ("Say something!", "Don't go in there!"). Yeah, because they can hear you, stupid. People who laugh inappropriately at serious or horrific scenes (murders, rapes) and girls who cry loudly during the same scenes. The makers of the standard serving size of Kraft Dinner, who the hell can eat all that????? The Barenaked Ladies. "Adult Contemporary." Country music, Nana Mouskouri, Paul Brant, Elvis, Kevin Federline, Elvis (still), Yoko Ono but not because she broke up the Beatles, because she wore that stupid bowl hat and big glasses. Alicia Silverstone, Billy Baldwin, Ellen Degeneres, David Letterman, Steven Baldwin, the entire cast of Star Trek: DS9, Brett Butler, Grace Buttler, William Baldwin, and the Suggle Fresh Bear. I really hate The Smoggies, Sailor Moon, HeMan, The Rug Rats and that stupid cow Lydia from Beetlejuice. People who say "try and" instead of "try to," people who say "I could care less" instead of "I couldn't care less". (If you could care less about something, then you obviously place some sort of value on it, now don't you?) Those people who say "all but" as if it were an intensifier instead of a negative. Listen, you people — "all but" means "everything except"! (If something was "all but destroyed", then it wasn't, repeat, was not destroyed!) People who talk about "human rights" when they're really talking about legal or constitutional rights and the people who talk about "human rights" when they're really talking about privileges. People who use "literally" as if it were an intensifier. ("Oh, when I saw what she did, my jaw literally hit the floor!") Oh really? I don't see any bruises on your stupid face, stupid. Signs that use quotation marks as if they were intensifiers, especially on signs promoting "free" drinks or "real" ice cream. Improperly used (or neglected) apostrophes, and when people write "your" instead of "you're". And the talking at the beginning or end of a song and the actors in the Downy Dryer sheets commercials. Aslo, the cartoon for Gain laundry soap and the girl's soccer team in the retarded Febreze commercial. TheAmericann who sued a doctor for giving him an emergencytracheotomyy in arestaurantt (which saved his life) and the judge who sided against the doctor.

Chuck Sucks

I watched "Enter the Dragon" last night and let me tell you, falling asleep during that movie gives you some trippy dreams. But Bruce Lee was so fast that they actually had to s-l-o-w down the film so you could see his moves. That's the opposite of the norm. Most actors can barely walk and talk at the best of times. I think I only watched the movie to reassure myself that yeah, I could do that. I'm positive I could block a few of those shots... I'm totally kidding, I know I'd get my ass busted. But I could take Chuck Norris. I know what to look for, I've seen "Walker: Texas Ranger." All he does is a roundhouse kick and he makes this squinty eyed frown thing as he's winding up. He ain't no thang. Oh good lord I need to stop watching that movie "Hunny." It's not even good but I watch it every time there's nothing else to watch. I should buy a book, save myself. After I watch that movie I use all these "Ghetto" phrases like 'check it,' 'it ain't no thang,' and 'hoodrat.' Oh god even I want to kick my ass. You get brainwashed, I swear. After I watch "Scream" I swear a lot and scowl a bunch more than I do now.

Animal Killers

The very first bomb dropped by the Allies on Berlin in World War II killed the only elephant in the Berlin Zoo. We suck.

No Way

I heard today that Sharon Stone is staring in "Basic Instinct 2," great. I like sequels, I'm all up in that but come on, she's a lot older now and I'm not sure the world wants to see the uncross of the legs at a geriatrics age. I've got a few ideas, "Fight Club 2" I'm sure Brad Pitt will still be hot throwing his cane at Ed Norton or "Saturday Night Fever 2," with John Travolta limping with a bad hip to the dance floor only to be winded in 2 minutes and searching for his blood pressure pills. Good times, good times.

What Hammer? What Sickle? You Crazy!

Our Prime Minister's eyes freak me out. What is his deal? Does he not see how tricked out they are? How could he not? They look right at him in the mirror. It's like they're clear with a bit of food colouring in them just for effect. Ick.

You can't create a folder called 'con' in Microsoft Windows. Trust me, I tried. I dare you, try it. What a stupid thing, what not Microsoft??? Won't you let me live, Bill? Oh why won't you let me live? What if I was a parole officer and I had to create a folder for my emails. I'd like to be able to segregate between my law abiding friends and the cons that I parole. That'd be a sweet gig, just keep tabs on people. I wonder if you'd get some big boss glasses too. Oh, and a '76 Caddy Devile. That'd be sweet, especially if you could have a fish tank in the middle console. That's what modern cars are missing. Fish tanks and waffle makers. I can't tell you how many times my friends and I have been jonesing for a waffle but be darned, we can't find a waffle shack anywhere. Oh no my friends, not even an International House of Pancakes as a substitute. I can see a big market for in-car waffle makers. I should really patent that. I also want to buy a acre of moon land. It may not mean something to me now but when I'm thawed out 137 years from now, we may just vacation on the moon. I'd like to play golf on the moon, who wouldn't? Communists, that's who. Those ruskies, crazy ruskies.

Fuzzy Slippers...Gross

I've developed a complex because of a commercial. This woman is talking about her teeth feeling like fuzzy slippers and it's caused me to brush my teeth a lot more. I've decided to make 2006 "The Year of Teeth." I still brush the usual 2 times a day but now if I'm feelin it, I'll brush the third time. Oh yeah, I know what you're thinking, "3 times, big deal" but, I've managed to turn my brushing time into a contest of sorts. I try to match or beat my last time and I've even switched to manual to make sure I haven't given myself an unfair advantage. Tonight, I bought a tiny little toothbrush and a baby tube of paste to carry with me. This morning I was running late so I only brushed for 4 minutes but I'm hoping to soar to 7 or even 8. Good times.

The Oscars Really Do Suck

As I sit here, forced to watch the Oscars, I thought,of what I believe to be, the best 6 things to do at Wal-Mart and 3 awesome things to do at McDonalds.

Wal-Mart:
6) Put M&M's on layaway, and then pay off the layaway 50 cents at a time,
5) While walking through the clothing department, ask yourself loud enough for all to hear, "Who BUYS this crap, anyway?
4) When an announcement comes over the loudspeaker, assume the fetal position and scream, "No, no! It's those voices again!
3) Set up a "Valet Parking" sign in front of the store.
2) When someone asks if you need help, begin to cry and ask, "Why won't you people just leave me alone?!
1) Drape a blanket around your shoulders and run around saying, "...I'm Batman. Come, Robin--to the Batcave!"

McDonalds:
3) Order a Whopper.
2) Put a "Mc" in front of everything you say. Example:Excuse me, Mc-sir but could I get some Mc-salt with my Mc-fries.
1) Ask your server to stop intentionally insulting your race.

I need a life. And the TV remote.

Matt, Stop, Turn Around and Don't Come Back

Dear Matt:
I'm sorry you feel you were humiliated by a 22 year old. I know how demeaning it is for you as a 60 something and the end of your days while I still having a good time. Those good days for you are few and far between eh? I know, I know, you feel less like a man and more like a camel's rectum but keep you're chin up, wheel yourself over to that window, and spy on the neighbor's son while he sunbathes. Now, I'm not here to judge but, you do have a problem. Thanks for the email, it really did make my day, it's nice to see how you can loose control of more than just your bowels. It's always good to know I can effect the little people who really mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. Your words were quaint, much of what I expect form a simple man of your caliber. Clearly you have some pent up anger, may I suggest Bull Fighting, No Holds Barred Kick Boxing or perhaps you could fly to Belfast, walk down the Shankill Road and spew the hateful, demeaning and demoralizing shit you so happily spew regardless of consequence? Anyways, those are just a few ideas, I hope they help. Please don't email me anymore, I couldn't possibly fake anymore interest in this little quarrel and please don't comment on my blog anymore, my readers really do think you're a tool. Thanks again for the interest but I'm really not interested, I don't like old men. I think it's either the formaldehyde smell or the little blue pills you're hell bent on about taking before popping in The Little House on the prairie DVD box set. Yeah that Michael Landon really was something eh? Oh and a heads up, the kids are on to your "Jesus Juice," they're getting smarter, a lot smarter. But then you knew that, because you know everything. I should wrap this up, you're Uncle Marty will be back soon to give you that homoerotic spanking you like soo much. Good luck and get bent.

Sincerely
Kelly