Do not make me bring Jeff Goldblum up in here. [No wonder they are still rebooting those movies every two years, people are not getting the message.]
PROMPT: Dinosaur
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Tag Archives: rants
PROMPT: Bothers
I once got a masala cookie beside my coffee at a cafe that took itself way too seriously. What’s a masala cookie, you might ask? It’s treachery, I say. It sits on a plate pretending to be a delightful sugar cookie, but without sugar or sweetness of any kind — just salt and a spice mixture. It was supposed to bring out the notes of cherry, chocolate, and… Blah, Blah, Blah. You know what would bring out the notes of chocolate in the coffee, some fucking chocolate in the cookie — that’s what. You can’t just impersonate a cookie and expect anyone to tolerate that level of betrayal. I certainly don’t want to live in such a world. That’s it, the only offense of recent years that I haven’t gotten over. A few years after it happened, I walked by that place and saw that the cafe had gone out of business, replaced by a Hello Kitty phone-case store. Good! I hope the owner and staff have moved on, putting their liberal arts graduate degrees to good use, teaching at community colleges as they should, rather than terrorizing the public with pseudo-cookies to make their overpriced coffee seem more of a bargain. I’ll end my rant here to go sit with my trauma.
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PROMPT: Pet Peeves
[Note: I will assume this to be the colloquial usage of “pet peeves” as I have no peeves about pets whatsoever (in fact, compared to most human children I see running around, I find pets to be positively civilized.)]
With that in mind:
1.) Forcing a “favor” on another person in expectation of some kind of reciprocation (usually outsized in scale to the fake favor.)
2.) Using the Q & A section of a program to make one’s own speech (the subtext being that one — rather than the lunkhead who just presented — should have been the one invited to speak in the first place.)
3.) Acting as though one particular set of cultural norms is the only moral / ethical way to live.
Bonus response: As we are presently on a blogging platform, I should mention a blogger’s peeve: Using another’s comment section as an advertisement for one’s own content — particularly with no actual comment about the post to which one’s “comment” is attached. I realize blogging is inherently a self-centered activity, but let’s not fall full-Narcissus into it.
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Five Wise Lines from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
All art is quite useless.
The books that the world calls immoral are books that show the world its own shame.
A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are fascinating.
You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.
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KilIing Clichés from A to Z
A for Albatross:
"An Albatross around one's neck" is usually used by those who never read the opium-addicted Romantic's poem, and -- more importantly -- who don't have the foggiest what an "albatross" is.
B for Birds [and Bees]:
If you were really taught about "the birds and the bees," you are NOT prepared to have sex.
C for Cat:
A "cat nap" is a short sleep. I had a cat. It slept eighteen-hours a day, usually for several hours at a time. [Also, "'til the cows come home" means when you put the feed out. They will reliably show up. If your cows are coming home late, that's on you.]
D for Duck:
Re: "having your ducks in a row." Baby ducks naturally follow in a line. If you're having to man-handle your ducks into rows, you should learn wu wei - the Taoist principle of effortless action.
E for Elephant:
If there's "an elephant in the room," it is definitely not a good time to talk matters over. Get the hell out, now!
F for Fish:
"Fish out of water" may be fine, but -- to be fair -- "man in water" is just as accurate. A little waddling Gentoo Penguin could outswim Michael Phelps in the 400m and be finishing its kipper snacks while Phelps was still slogging through his first length. And Phelps is among the fastest our species can put in water. If the average human were dropped in the ocean, he'd thrash around until he got a lungful of water and died...and that's a kilometer offshore.
G for Goose:
With respect to a "wild goose chase"... fun fact: if you chase a goose, it might well chase you back. I once read a book on the most dangerous animals (for humans) and, to my surprise, the goose was in it. They don't kill many, but they put their fair share of people in the hospital with beak-cracked shins.
H for Horse:
So, about "straight from the horse's mouth." If you got your information from a talking horse and are proud that it was 'right from the source,' you might want to consider cutting your acid blotters into smaller pieces.
I for Indian:
Not sure how the term "Indian burn" came to be, but I've lived in India for almost a decade and have never known anyone to induce a friction burn by twisting the forearm of another person. You may be saying, "Well, it's meant as in, 'Native American burn.'" But I still don't see any evidence for that. [Don't get me started on 'Indian giving' as an insult against someone who has the gall to want their stolen shit back.] Now, if you called it the "shitty little American schoolboy burn," that -- I would totally buy.
J for Jackal:
Jackals are, like anyone who's ever eaten at McDonald's, opportunistic omnivores, but to make them out to be the exemplars of "exploiting situations' is a bit harsh. For example, did you know a Jackal won't cheat on its spouse, even when an opportunity falls right in its lap.
K for Kangaroo:
I don't know who came up with "kangaroo courts" but I don't think we know enough about marsupial jurisprudence to cast aspersions upon the Kangaroo legal system. I think it is -- like many instances on this list -- simply deflecting.
L for Leopard:
Why would a leopard even want to change its spots? Certain humans (frequenting the Wal-Mart) go to great lengths to appropriate leopard spots. If they are fashionable for a plus-sized woman's stretch pants, why would the leopard think any differently.
M for March Hare:
They say "mad as a March Hare" because March is mating season. I think the saying should be "Horny as a March Hare." Alliteration intact.
N for Nightingale:
I suspect ninety-nine percent of those who use "sings like a nightingale" couldn't pick a nightingale's song out of an audio lineup of bird noises.
O for Oyster:
"The world is your oyster" is supposedly a great thing. But when I elaborate by saying, "The world is your slimy raw foodstuff that has a twenty percent chance of making you vomitously ill," it doesn't sound like a good thing.
P for Pony:
We need to stop people from bitching about the fact that their pony only knows one trick. It's a fucking pony. You should be grateful it knows the one trick.
Q for Quail:
To "quail at ______" means to be timid in the face of some stimulus. I don't think it's particularly fair. If you were considered a delicacy, you'd be a bit skittish, too.
R for Rat:
If you "smell a rat," it's definitely dead, and -- ergo -- will not be plotting against you.
S for Sheep:
I shouldn't have to point out that a "wolf in sheep's clothing" is completely naked.
T for Turkey:
A "Turkey voting for Christmas" is said to be acting against its own interests, but since everybody eats turkey for Thanksgiving and many people have ham for Christmas, I'd say the turkey knows exactly what it's doing. Even if it's one of the unlucky Christmas turkeys, it still got another month of living. Hell, there are humans who rack up million-dollar medical bills for the same outcome.
U for Underdog:
The first use of the term "Underdog" was in 1859, long before the cartoon from my youth. Is there an "Uber-dog" or an "Overdog?" How did this even enter someone's mind?
V for Viper:
"A nest of vipers," is another bit of anthropomorphizing. The premise of the idiom is that it's a group of nasty people getting together. Whereas the snakes in a viper's nest are as likely to be as good as any.
W for Weasel:
When someone uses ambiguous words to obscure their meaning, we say they're using "weasel words." But as far as I can see, weasels have the good sense to keep their mouths shut. (Unlike those secret-betraying horses.)
X for XYZ:
People say, "for XYZ reasons" when they mean for an extensive list of reasons that no one seems to know.
Y for Yak:
Somehow, we use "yak" for the act of being relentlessly chatty, and -- once again -- I must say that I've found yaks to be less than gabby.
Z for Zebra:
"A zebra can't change its strips." See: "L for Leopard."
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Food for Thought [Voltaire & Smartphones]
When Voltaire said:
“Once a nation begins to think, it is impossible to stop it.”
I don’t think he’d anticipated smartphones.
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How to Kill a “Cereal Killer” and Restore Halloween
I know what you’re going to say. Why would I want to murder a cereal killer, a taco belle, a holy cow, a pig in a blanket, a deviled egg, or any of the other bearers of bad Halloween punnery? First, you want to kill someone. You don’t have to admit it to me and I’d advise against admitting it to the District Attorney, but at least admit it to yourself. Second, if you kill the person you really want to kill (e.g. your boss, the tax man, your personal trainer, or your hairdresser—sorry, low blow) you’ll be the lead suspect. Therefore, you need to find a way to vent your homicidal rage into productive outlets, and I’d argue that the killing of punsters is community service. You shouldn’t even think of it as murder. It’s more like culling the Halloween herd. Forest fires kill, but the next year the forest is more lush and beautiful than ever before.
Now let’s get down to the real reason to conduct your own Halloween killing spree. Because it’s the perfect time for the perfect crime. Think about it.
- Anonymity: Except for the lazy people who wear a T-shirt with “Halloween Costume” printed in unimaginative block letters, everybody is in makeup or has their head stuffed in some stinking mask that five people have thrown up in within the last three years. This makes it almost impossible to identify suspects. The lazy bastards would be eliminated immediately anyway because it takes commitment to be a homicidal maniac.
- Relative Inconspicuousness: You won’t be the only one who’s apparently blood spattered. Besides Marti Gras and full moons, what other nights can one say that. There will be large numbers of people wielding weapons and looking creepy. What better time to blend in?
- Distraction: If I might be granted a brief diatribe. Halloween used to be the holiday of terror, but no more. Valentine’s Day may be the holiday of romance (or florists), but Halloween is the holiday of sex. However, you can use this trend to your advantage. There’s a great deal of distraction to be garnered from the proliferation of sexy nurses, sexy waitresses, and sexy actuarials. When the girl whose costume is painted on rather than worn walks through the room to get a single potato chip, that’s a good time to jab the hypodermic into the neck of the nearest drunk pun and get the hell out of dodge.
So how will you choose your target? First, as indicated, it’s best to pick someone who’s inebriated because no one will realize they’re dead–and not just passed out–until they begin to stink. Don’t worry, finding a drunk won’t be hard. At a given Halloween party there will be four designated drivers for the 150 people in attendance—so 148 people will be completely hammered. [No, my math is not that bad. Two of those designated drivers are cheating bastards. If you kill a pun who’s a cheating designated driver you’ve hit the trifecta—OK, maybe my math is that bad. At any rate, you get bonus points. ]
Next comes the question of determining whether the costume is a pun or not. This can be harder than it seems. Sure there are the easy ones I mentioned above (and others like Kevin “Bacon” [Kevin nametag on a meat vest], “Bat” Man [w/ Louisville Slugger], Down for the Count [Dracula with a blowup doll orally affixed to his crotch region], Spice Girl, Dust Bunny, Formal Apology [tuxedo-clad man with “sorry” written on his tie], etc.) that will be immediately obvious.
However, what if one sees a guy in a Grim Reaper costume with a bag of pot. Perhaps this is just someone who likes to imbibe. However, if the pot is dayglow green, then you may have a “the grass is greener on the other side” who desperately needs killing. The key is that one must pay attention to the details. Sometimes the costume will be poorly done. Imagine a fine “Tom the Cat” costume with three misshaped spheres feebly stapled to the crotch region. This is a “horny as a three-balled tom cat” who must die.
On the other hand, you should avoid reading too much into costumes. Say you see a girl who looks like a stripper. You shouldn’t engage in some Rube Goldberg-esque thought process in which you conclude that she is saying, “All that glitters is not gold–because sometimes it’s a stripper.” Said woman may merely be costumed as a stripper, or might be a stripper who just got off stage and didn’t have time to go out looking for a costume.
When in doubt, if the costume doesn’t seem to make a lick of sense, it’s probably someone’s sense of clever gone awry and you shouldn’t feel bad about friendly fire against a non-pun.
Finally, some general rules of thumb (BTW: feel free to kill anyone dressed in a giant mitten with a page of the tax code taped to the thumb):
- Only kill one pun per party. Being a killer of puns is like being a Marine Sniper—except that it’s completely illegal and involves no honor whatsoever—my point is that if you loiter in place you’ll get pinned down by the Vietcong. It doesn’t matter whether the party in question has the best pigs in a blanket (i.e. the hors doeuvres, not the cutesy couple costume), the best DJ, or the sluttiest witches, maids, librarians, or geologists in town. Don’t get greedy. Get in and get out—well, you can grab a handful of those delectable pigs in a blanket on the way out, but then get out of the house!
- Never wear the same costume to more than one party. The police call that a clue. You have to be like Kathrine Heigl in that 27 Dresses movie—which I never saw. Do the quick change like Clark Kent between parties. That brings me to an alternative killing scheme whereby you can kill anyone who’s dressed as a character from a romantic comedy.
- Don’t consume a lot of legumes, high fiber foods, beer, or Taco Bell before your outing. Just because no one will see your face inside that barf-splotched mask doesn’t mean they won’t be able to smell you. Plus the zippers in costumes are unreliable, and you don’t want a case of Taco Trots to hamper your evening’s fun.
- Don’t wear a costume that’s too menacing. You want to be able to point to someone who is nearby, completely innocent, and who looks like a killer and say, “she did it.” Also, don’t wear the “Identity Thief” costume in which one has name tags all over one’s outfit with different names. First, it plants the seed of criminality in the mind of those around you. Second, it’s a bad pun and may result in your being stabbed. Which brings me to the ultimate rule:
- Don’t wear a pun costume yourself, it may result in your being stabbed. I’m not saying that I once stabbed a prostitute with a Seeing Eye dog who turned out to be just another good-hearted Halloween killer because “love is blind,” but…
I hope this guide to perpetrating a Halloween massacre has been helpful. I think we’d all like to bring the fear back to Halloween like all the Saints who partied down on All Saints’ Day Eve intended. So, whether you’re a first time killer or you’ve been around the block (another potential costume cliché to kill), a few simple steps will keep you out of the hands of the slutty cops—or regular cops.
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TODAY’S RANT: Crossing False Alarm
Source: roadtrafficsigns.com
If you’re like me, when you see the above sign, you say to yourself, “That is all well and good, but what if I get a non-conformist deer, or one of those illegals who can’t read English?” Now, I know what you’re thinking, usually they put a little leaping deer silhouette on the sign so the deer knows the sign is addressed to it, even if reading is not its strong suit. (Let’s face it, if reading were essential to life on this planet, most of humanity would die out.) At any rate, for any number of reasons I might collide with a deer in a completely inappropriate zone.
Now imagine my confusion, and then excitement, when I came across this sign on a recent walk.
This was a flat piece of land, and rocks are generally believed to be inanimate. So–at first blush–this doesn’t seem to make a lick of sense. However, then I began to think, “What if they mean ‘Rock’ as in ‘rock-n-roll’?” So I staked it out for an entire day, hoping to get an autograph–maybe Clapton or REO Speedwagon. Who did I get? No one. Not even Donnie Osmond, because–you know–he’s a little bit rock and roll (a very little bit, an infinitesimally small part nano-rock-n-roll.) There weren’t even local bands.
What’s more, no actual rocks tried to cross all day. No igneous, no sedimentary, no basalt, no granite, no shale, no pyrite, no agate, no jasper, no oolite, no amber, no opalite, no Icelandite, no norite, no obsidian, no quartz, no chert, no flint, no gneiss, no marble, no schist, no slate… are you getting my point here? There wasn’t a single rock crossing event all day. Furthermore, how would a rock even know where to cross the trail? They aren’t as smart as deer.
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TODAY’S RANT: Continuity Gaffes
For those unfamiliar, a continuity gaffe is a mistake in a movie in which something that shouldn’t change from one instant to the next does. They result from movies being shot over many days in an order unrelated to how the film unfurls before the viewer. Take an example, say a brawler is wearing a green shirt, they cut away to the other fighter, but when they flash back he’s an orangutan in a bikini. If it’s still not clear what I’m talking about, the YouTube clip below shows a horde of gaffes from the first Star Wars trilogy.
Now, from the title of this post, you probably think that I’m some sort of obsessive-compulsive nerd who catches every little niggling mistake in a movie. To this I say, I wish! I’m a not-the-least-bit-compulsive nerd. I don’t catch any movie continuity gaffes– not a single one. Sure, I can see them when they’re circled and the film is run in slow motion, but otherwise I’m clueless. This has made me wonder if there isn’t something defective with my brain. When they are pointed out they seem pretty glaring.
What really bothers me is not that I never catch a continuity gaffe in a movie, but rather that I catch them in my real life all the time. I’ll distinctly remember setting my keys down on the valet, but after a thorough search I’ll find them in the freezer. I’ll remember having written a paragraph, but when I come back to my laptop I find nothing but the cryptic message, “xzsawrwddd&&ppPPP.” I’ll put down Shakespeare’s Sonnets and when I pick the book back up, it’s a James Patterson novel.
I’ve developed two competing hypotheses to explain these gaffes. First, I’m in the Matrix, and Mr. Smith is corrupting the code. Second, my secretly super-intelligent cat is fucking with me.
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TODAY’S RANT: Preferred Customer Cards
Today at the grocery store, the cashier asked whether I had a preferred customer card.
To which I, of course, replied, “No. Do you have one of my preferred cashier cards?”
I thought that she would be devastated when she realized that she didn’t have my card, but she apparently thought I was joking — which saddened me a little.
I don’t sign up for such cards for a number of reasons, most of which have to do with being a dude.
1.) Wallet real estate premium: As a man, any extra card has to be wedged under one of my butt cheeks where it will sit all day trying to cause scoliosis. While your firm’s card may seem thin, they add up. Therefore, the card had better offer great perqs, such as an option to cut to the front of the line any time I so choose or the knowledge that –should there be a maniac on the loose in the store– lesser favored customers will be shoveled in front of me as human shields.
2.) Commitment limitations: One idea behind these cards is to build customer loyalty. I’m a man who has been happily married coming up on 19 years. Every ounce of my capacity for commitment is spoken for. I have no excess loyalty to spare on a brand of canned corn or on a particular store (you all sell the same stuff.) Sorry Keebler Elves, but I am not above a midnight rendezvous with some freaky Nabisco Oreos. Don’t make me perpetrate a lie.
3.) The Fudgesicle Dossier: When thinking about who to confess my moments of greatest weakness to (as reflected in buying a gallon of “Chunky Monkey” ice cream): a friend, a loved one, a priest; oddly enough Acxiom Incorporated does not spring to mind. Acxiom is one of the big companies that collects information about when you buy tampons or condoms or gas station sushi. Somewhere in a massive server farm sits an e-file, an indelible record of a lifetime of bad decisions as reflected in my consumer purchasing history. I’m not going to feed that monster.
Any way, getting back to my story. The cashier said that without the card my total would come to $21.70, but with one it would only be $12.95. She then proceeded to “blip” a card that she had stored next to the register. It saved me a bundle, so I felt obligated to give her one of my preferred cashier cards.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 