I just figured out who John McCan't reminds me of..........
The perfect successor to George F Bush.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Sarah Palin
I'm watching her talk right now. She's all about being a cheerleader for family and military and whatever blah blah blah......she trots out her special needs son and says that if they are elected, she will be an advocate for special needs in the White House.
Yeah. As long as your kid's not gay.
Yeah. As long as your kid's not gay.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Turf
I have a lovely neighbor lady, a couple of years older and wiser that me, that is unfailingly kind, helpful and caring. This spring she put Weed-n-Feed on her yard, had some left, and very graciously continued on with her fertilizer spreader and fed my starving front yard till her stash ran out.
As a result, the rest of the neighborhood hated me less this year because my usual bumper crop of dandelions was considerably decreased.
The flip side of that would be that my grass is lush and green. And grows very fast and very tall. You can tell which house is mine; it's the one with the yard that's always completely out of control and desperately needs cutting. Or trimming. Or raking.
I'm pretty sure the neighborhood still hates me.
I spent three hours today getting cozy with my weed whacker (I threaded it 9 frickin times....I know because I frickin counted) along with every other lawn manicuring device in my garage.
I can hardly lift my arms, both hands are still vibrating and I'm sporting a nice farmer's tan.
Here's my question: How does one say to an unfailingly kind, helpful and caring neighbor that if she puts Weed-n-Feed on my lawn next year? well, there's gonna be dust up.
As a result, the rest of the neighborhood hated me less this year because my usual bumper crop of dandelions was considerably decreased.
The flip side of that would be that my grass is lush and green. And grows very fast and very tall. You can tell which house is mine; it's the one with the yard that's always completely out of control and desperately needs cutting. Or trimming. Or raking.
I'm pretty sure the neighborhood still hates me.
I spent three hours today getting cozy with my weed whacker (I threaded it 9 frickin times....I know because I frickin counted) along with every other lawn manicuring device in my garage.
I can hardly lift my arms, both hands are still vibrating and I'm sporting a nice farmer's tan.
Here's my question: How does one say to an unfailingly kind, helpful and caring neighbor that if she puts Weed-n-Feed on my lawn next year? well, there's gonna be dust up.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Projekt Conversation II
Recorded faithfully from what I frickin can remember, August 15, 2008
D: We won’t need those directions…I programmed the GPS on my phone to direct us right to the door of the venue.
GPS: You are off course.
G/f: Hahaha…
D: Just a minute and it’ll correct itself.
GPS: Turn left in twenty feet.
Me: Apparently your phone wants you to either get gas or some snacks for the road at this Mini Mart.
G/f: Hahaha….
D: Give it a chance.
GPS: You are off course, again! You people have no idea where you’re going!
D: I’m turning the effen thing off!
Me: But we’re not even on the highway yet!
In the parking lot at Riverbend:
Me: We seem to be at a deserted amusement park on a summer Friday afternoon at 4PM. This is very strange.
D: Let’s just follow those people who seem like they know where they’re going.
Me: There’s no gate. There are no ticket takers. You don’t have to pay to get in this amusement park? This is very strange.
G/f: There are only like ten customers in this park.
Me: Half of the rides don’t have people on them. This is very strange.
D: If the roller coaster is working when we come back through on the way out we are totally getting on it!
Me: What if the park is locked when the show is over? We’ll have to swim across the river to get to the car. This is very strange.
During Street Drum Corp’s set:
Me: Don’t you love it when the bass pounds through your heart and it feels like you’re going to have a heart attack!?!
D: Yeah!
Me: I’m a little scared that I’ll be in a coma by the time Linkin Park comes on!
D: I hear ya!
In the restroom between bands:
Me: Did you get your eyeballs fixed?
G/f: I took my contacts out.
Me: Good Lord; can you still see?
G/f: Yeah, kinda. It’ll be fine.
Me: I know you don’t want a beer but they have mixed drinks. Want a cocktail?
G/f: Maybe, but could you read the signs and tell me what they have?
Me: Good thing we’re in the 12th row and you still have ears or you’d prolly really be ticked, huh?
G/f: Hahaha….
Me: Well someone’s gotta be the DD on the way home and clearly, it's not going to be you.
During Chris Cornell’s set:
D: What a set of pipes….Jesus! And it doesn’t even look like he’s trying!
Me: I know! I was just thinking the same thing!
D: Chester looks like he’s going to stroke out on every song to get that much torque.
Me: I know!
Chris Cornell: I’m gonna break my…
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run
Me: Johnny Cash wrote this song.
D: Are you serious?
Me: JC either wrote it or covered it…It’s on one of the American Recordings albums. Can’t you Google it on your fancy phone and ask that GPS lady who wrote it?
D: Yeah! I prolly can! Is it “Rusty Pain”?
Me: Rusty. Cage.
D: Rusty Page??
Me: RUSTY....CAGE!! For God’s sake, kid! Don’t you know this song?
D: I never heard it before in my life.
Me: You are not my child.
During Linkin Park’s set:
Me: How about that fat man two rows up that’s been dancing like a maniac through every song for an hour?
D: I know! And he’s not phoning it in! That fat bastard is tearing up, non-stop!
Me: I’m waiting for him and that wild crazy chick in the same row to bang heads and knock each other out during the encore!
D: That would be awesome!
Me: Where’s their effen bus? If I can just get on the bus they can drop me off when they play in Cleveland on Tuesday!
Jesus Christ what a show.
D: We won’t need those directions…I programmed the GPS on my phone to direct us right to the door of the venue.
GPS: You are off course.
G/f: Hahaha…
D: Just a minute and it’ll correct itself.
GPS: Turn left in twenty feet.
Me: Apparently your phone wants you to either get gas or some snacks for the road at this Mini Mart.
G/f: Hahaha….
D: Give it a chance.
GPS: You are off course, again! You people have no idea where you’re going!
D: I’m turning the effen thing off!
Me: But we’re not even on the highway yet!
In the parking lot at Riverbend:
Me: We seem to be at a deserted amusement park on a summer Friday afternoon at 4PM. This is very strange.
D: Let’s just follow those people who seem like they know where they’re going.
Me: There’s no gate. There are no ticket takers. You don’t have to pay to get in this amusement park? This is very strange.
G/f: There are only like ten customers in this park.
Me: Half of the rides don’t have people on them. This is very strange.
D: If the roller coaster is working when we come back through on the way out we are totally getting on it!
Me: What if the park is locked when the show is over? We’ll have to swim across the river to get to the car. This is very strange.
During Street Drum Corp’s set:
Me: Don’t you love it when the bass pounds through your heart and it feels like you’re going to have a heart attack!?!
D: Yeah!
Me: I’m a little scared that I’ll be in a coma by the time Linkin Park comes on!
D: I hear ya!
In the restroom between bands:
Me: Did you get your eyeballs fixed?
G/f: I took my contacts out.
Me: Good Lord; can you still see?
G/f: Yeah, kinda. It’ll be fine.
Me: I know you don’t want a beer but they have mixed drinks. Want a cocktail?
G/f: Maybe, but could you read the signs and tell me what they have?
Me: Good thing we’re in the 12th row and you still have ears or you’d prolly really be ticked, huh?
G/f: Hahaha….
Me: Well someone’s gotta be the DD on the way home and clearly, it's not going to be you.
During Chris Cornell’s set:
D: What a set of pipes….Jesus! And it doesn’t even look like he’s trying!
Me: I know! I was just thinking the same thing!
D: Chester looks like he’s going to stroke out on every song to get that much torque.
Me: I know!
Chris Cornell: I’m gonna break my…
I’m gonna break my rusty cage and run
Me: Johnny Cash wrote this song.
D: Are you serious?
Me: JC either wrote it or covered it…It’s on one of the American Recordings albums. Can’t you Google it on your fancy phone and ask that GPS lady who wrote it?
D: Yeah! I prolly can! Is it “Rusty Pain”?
Me: Rusty. Cage.
D: Rusty Page??
Me: RUSTY....CAGE!! For God’s sake, kid! Don’t you know this song?
D: I never heard it before in my life.
Me: You are not my child.
During Linkin Park’s set:
Me: How about that fat man two rows up that’s been dancing like a maniac through every song for an hour?
D: I know! And he’s not phoning it in! That fat bastard is tearing up, non-stop!
Me: I’m waiting for him and that wild crazy chick in the same row to bang heads and knock each other out during the encore!
D: That would be awesome!
Me: Where’s their effen bus? If I can just get on the bus they can drop me off when they play in Cleveland on Tuesday!
Jesus Christ what a show.
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