Sunday, December 26, 2004 |
Completely, Thoroughly, And Utterly OT
Mrs. Frinklin Says No To Robinson's-May
Caught this fairly old (October) missive about Robinson's-May via the comments at Pearly Gates, a warning to avoid their bridal registration services. I had this happen when a friend of mine registered several years ago and ended up getting duplicated all kinds of stuff because their registration system is so horrible. Unbelievably bad, and amazing that it still hasn't been fixed.Brrr
Every year about this time we get reports of the reckless or mentally deficient living in cold weather areas who dive -- sans appropriate attire, such as wetsuits -- into arctic waters, the better to prove something-or-other. While this adipose group of Germans is probably better shielded from the cold than some others, for the cameras' sake, it's best they stay in:
This bunch in Wisconsin has an appropriately-titled backdrop:
Unsuccessful entrants for the Darwin Awards? Hoo boy.
More CL Fun
I have never made any pretense that this blog is G-rated, though I do try to reserve the obscenities to days when a general manager appears to bite off more than he can obviously chew or breaks my heart. Sniffle. (Well, I'm over that, now.) So if you have tender sensibilities, I recommend you look elsewhere; my aim here is to enjoy life to the extent anyone with dark sensibilities can. As with Jim Bouton, whose book Ball Four had the nerve to be forthright and worse, from MLB's perspective, accurate, I don't aim for shock value.To that end, I have a friend who sells work "clothes" to strippers. (Yes, he does give a discount if they shop in the nude.) This line of work has earned him endless admiration from some of our number, but the scene for such sales is inevitably where the public can't witness; not so for this obnoxious episode, which reminds one of the "Did you bring enough for everyone to share?" rule justifying gum-confiscation in elementary school.
Ah, honesty. How many times have I asked myself, "Why not be a sugar daddy for an aspiring lesbian singer-songwriter?" But lesbian singer-songwriters aren't nearly as interesting, from a practical viewpoint, as those who can turn a mean monkey wrench; and at the intersection of "lesbian" and "plumbing" you find comedy, as in, an answer to the age-old question "How many lesbians does it take to retrieve an earring from the drain in a bathroom sink?". (Spoiler: it takes four.)
It being the day after Christmas, it's also time to make returns and exchanges, viz. "My boyfriend for your alarm clock".
Mixing saber-toothed rodents, food preparation, and stick figures: "Yes, I often make omelettes topless. Like you don't." With side-splitting visual aids!
Aw, this is shooting fish in a barrel. I could be here all day...
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