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Air Traffic Control: Aaaaaaaarvark Airlines 358 [inaudible] please confirm distress call on this frequency.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Roger that, Control. That was us.
Air Traffic Control: What's the problem, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358? Over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: We're running dangerously low on snacks in Economy, over.
Air Traffic Control: Uh, Roger that. Roger that. How long can you hold out, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: We have a half a Toblerone. If we slice it super-thin --10, 20 minutes tops. But we have 4 comedians on board. Jokes have started to form, on the starboard side. We're taking on a lot of lame-i-tude. Request a mid-air re-stocking of the food cart.
Air Traffic Control: That's a negative, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358. We're going to have to divert you to...AAA.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Come back, Control. Did you say AAA?
Air Traffic Control: Affirmative. Affirmative. It's first in the list of airport codes, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: We Copy. Do they have [inaudible] Toblereone? Over.
Air Traffic Control: We don't have information on that. Will request an emergency Mr. Happy Snack Time vehicle to meet you on runway 2 and some big hooks to take the comics into custody. Please Confirm your position, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Waterboarding is fine for some people, but not for others. The taxpayers shouldn't have to finance sex change operations for convicted felons. Treating corporations like people is just silly, and a blow to campaign finance reform. Toblerone should be a right for all, and not just a privilege for the few, over.
Air Traffic Control: What? No! No! No! Not your political position! Confirm your location, over
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Marco.
Air Traffic Control: Polo.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Marco.
Air Traffic Control: Polo.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: MARCO!
Air Traffic Control: POLO! OK, we see you. Over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Polo. I mean, Marco. I mean over, over.
Air Traffic Control: Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358, what are you talking about, now?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Just talking smack, over.
Air Traffic Control: LOL, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: RAOTFALMAO, over.
Air Traffic Control: RB@Ya, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Come back, Control. Did you say Over or Under? Over.
Air Traffic Control: Let's start over, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Inaudible.
Air Traffic Control: Why did you say, "inaudible," over?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Looks good on a transcript, over.
Air Traffic Control: . . .Roger that.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Control, hold on! We just saw a UFO! We just saw a UFO! We just saw a UFO! We just saw a UFO!
Air Traffic Control: Heard you the first time, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358. Where's the [inaudible] UFO from?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: We don't [inaudible] know. It's a UFO. Hold on. Its bottom latch is opening up. It's lowering something down to us! It's lowering something down to us! It's lowering something down to us! It's lowering something down to us!
Air Traffic Control: Why do you say everything four times, already, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358? OK. [inaudible] [inaudible][inaudible] [inaudible]. What's the UFO lowering down, over?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: Looks like a really big Mars Bar, over.
Air Traffic Control: Roger that, Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358. Descend to 3250 feet and Proceed on a vector of P.M.M. to the MB ASAP, over.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaak 358: We copy. Can we put this post out of its misery, now, Control?
Air Traffic Control: Affirmative. It's over, over.
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Garbage in, Garbage out...Garbage Back In
Dear Madam or Sir or Whatever:
Your ninth violation this month of this City's household trash/recycling ordinances warrants this citation. You have ignored our earlier Memo -- clear, concise, written in simple language, and using mostly English words of one syllable. Therefore, PLEASE BE ON NOTICE: YOU ARE HEREBY PLACED ON PROBATION pending your future performance. Your infractions are detailed below:
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Displayed Labels --Bottles
The Neighborhood's Standards for publicly displayed labels in all recycling bins are found at Appendix A of the Department's Summary of Residential Trash Guidelines (the smaller, phone book-sized one). Only labels of a certain caliber may be face up in the bin while curbside.
You have repeatedly flouted this Rule by displaying the following brands on bottles placed ostentatiously into the bin: "Mandelbaum's Family-Size Seltzer," "Pappy Yokum's Home-Style Moonshine De-LUX," "Williamsburg Slivovitz," and "Randy's Discount Herring in Wine-like Sauce."
Following your last citation for these violations, the Department recorded several instances where you had attempted to glue counterfeit champagne labels (you misspelled it, by the way, there is no "y" in "champagne") onto your recycling glass -- only to have them peel off in the snow, revealing your pedestrian proclivities. The Department is saddened by this pathetic behavior, and we urge you to seek professional help.
We recognize that certain of our citizens are savoir faire-ally challenged, yet we are also constrained to remind you that your coarse and vulgar tastes reflect poorly on the village as a whole, driving down property values and fomenting an atmosphere in which loutish behavior flourishes and spreads like mold. Certain handicaps are provided for persons in your category, and you are encouraged to review the diagram of easy-to-follow instructions for turning disfavored brands face down on trash day. (See Appendix B).
By way of example only, the Department notes that in the same 30-day period when you were foisting discount herring jars and jumbo seltzer bottles on society-at-large, your immediate neighbors to your left and to your right submitted the following: Dom Pérignon '98, imported Pellegrino (glass only), Martini & Rossi, Appellation Chablis Premier Cru Controlée Chateau Très Sophistiqué ('95), Remy Martin’s venerable Louis XIII “Black Pearl” cognanc, and 8 year-old Laphroaig, single malt.
While your past performance demonstrates beyond cavil that you could not be expected to attain such standards in our lifetime, it is, nonetheless, a supposed truism that, given enough typewriters and monkeys and a sufficient span of time (say, an eternity), a great novel could one day emerge. What we're saying (in a style perhaps unfamiliar to subscribers of Sloth Smackdown Monthly) is this: So long as you insist upon acquiring your bitters at the Marché Rapide de Dogpatch, we would at least encourage you to be discreet when disposal time rolls around.
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Displayed Reading Materials
As you are, doubtless, aware, numerous Supreme Court rulings from the Burger Court (1969-1986), guarantee your right to read whatever trash you like in the privacy of your own home. As long as it stays there, it is none of our business. The moment you commingle it outside with the rest of your trash, however, it falls within our jurisdiction. See United States v. Oswald, 783 F.2d 663, 666 (6th Cir.1986); California v. Greenwood, 486 U.S. 35 (1988) (no reasonable expectation of privacy in garbage deposited on the curtilage). The materials you choose to discard on a regular basis causes us to pray vigorously for the welfare of your children, but we are not, after all, the Department of Social Services.
A cursory glance at even a tiny sample of the printed matter you flaunt so shamelessly on pick-up day leads us to conclude that your view of the world is warped by that class of periodicals most commonly associated with schlock supermarket checkout counters and racetracks. You may assume that others in the vicinity share your seemingly religious devotion to the breathless comings and goings of Brittney, Angelina, Brad et al., the lurid exploits of underworld dons and donnettes of New Jersey and Moscow, and the accomplishments of dogs who have been trained to do simple math, open the refrigerator, and flush the toilet. But you assume wrong.
We fear that our earlier admonitions to you in this regard have gone unheeded due principally to your innate inability to recognize them as having been framed in the imperative. So let us put it to you plain: The Department will no longer tolerate the crap you spread out like a billboard every Monday night betraying what passes in your world for "values" and making transparent the venue for your sorry upbringing (id est, a barn).
In other words: Stop! Just stop putting this drek outside on the curb! If you ignore this directive, our engineers are under strict orders to retaliate in kind, that is to say, to shovel it all back in the tool shed from whence it came and where you maintain the rest of your bizarro collection.
For the record, we are well aware of your lame effort to stave off the instant citation this morning by stocking your paper bin with back issues of the Utne Reader, The New Yorker, and Commentary. Did you think that our highly-trained professionals would not deduce in a flash that that you could not possibly have reversed a lifetime of self-imposed illiteracy overnight and acquired an insatiable appetite for culture and foreign policy? Did you really suppose that we would not spot the labels on these journals sporting the name and address of the person who lives next door?
What kind of a miscreant stoops so low as to steal his neighbor's garbage in a futile attempt to impress the Department of Sanitation? We've said it before, but in your case it cannot be gainsaid: We were, and remain, singularly unimpressed.
Appendix C sets forth the standards for acceptable disposal of printed matter in this community. Please find someone who knows how to read (all of the words on the page), and have them explain it to you.
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Disposal of Yard Waste
We don't know where the sludge comes from that you dump outside each week, presumably when you have tired from your "science experiments." Frankly, we don't want to know. But we do know this: It is not yard waste -- not even close. Not only will we not pick it up, should it ever reappear in the specially-marked barrel (provided to you free-of-charge by the taxpayers, among whom, we presume you do not count yourself), we will arrest you, pursuant to our temporary status as deputy sheriffs, conveyed upon us by a special act of the Legislature promulgated in response to you and you alone.
Miscellaneous Violation
Finally, please restrain your cat. Virtually all of the uses he has been observed to have made of the City's trash barrels and recycling bins -- not only the ones in front of your residence, but also, more particularly, your neighbor's -- are prohibited. Should you have any doubt about this, your attention is directed to Appendix D.
You shall remain on probation until the Department is satisfied that you have addressed each of the issues set forth herein.
HEREOF FAIL NOT, FOR YOU SHALL ANSWER YOUR FAILURE TO ABIDE BY THIS ORDER UNDER THE PAINS AND PENALTIES OF LAW.
The Commisioner of Sanitation
Your ninth violation this month of this City's household trash/recycling ordinances warrants this citation. You have ignored our earlier Memo -- clear, concise, written in simple language, and using mostly English words of one syllable. Therefore, PLEASE BE ON NOTICE: YOU ARE HEREBY PLACED ON PROBATION pending your future performance. Your infractions are detailed below:
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Displayed Labels --Bottles
The Neighborhood's Standards for publicly displayed labels in all recycling bins are found at Appendix A of the Department's Summary of Residential Trash Guidelines (the smaller, phone book-sized one). Only labels of a certain caliber may be face up in the bin while curbside.
You have repeatedly flouted this Rule by displaying the following brands on bottles placed ostentatiously into the bin: "Mandelbaum's Family-Size Seltzer," "Pappy Yokum's Home-Style Moonshine De-LUX," "Williamsburg Slivovitz," and "Randy's Discount Herring in Wine-like Sauce."
Following your last citation for these violations, the Department recorded several instances where you had attempted to glue counterfeit champagne labels (you misspelled it, by the way, there is no "y" in "champagne") onto your recycling glass -- only to have them peel off in the snow, revealing your pedestrian proclivities. The Department is saddened by this pathetic behavior, and we urge you to seek professional help.
We recognize that certain of our citizens are savoir faire-ally challenged, yet we are also constrained to remind you that your coarse and vulgar tastes reflect poorly on the village as a whole, driving down property values and fomenting an atmosphere in which loutish behavior flourishes and spreads like mold. Certain handicaps are provided for persons in your category, and you are encouraged to review the diagram of easy-to-follow instructions for turning disfavored brands face down on trash day. (See Appendix B).
By way of example only, the Department notes that in the same 30-day period when you were foisting discount herring jars and jumbo seltzer bottles on society-at-large, your immediate neighbors to your left and to your right submitted the following: Dom Pérignon '98, imported Pellegrino (glass only), Martini & Rossi, Appellation Chablis Premier Cru Controlée Chateau Très Sophistiqué ('95), Remy Martin’s venerable Louis XIII “Black Pearl” cognanc, and 8 year-old Laphroaig, single malt.
While your past performance demonstrates beyond cavil that you could not be expected to attain such standards in our lifetime, it is, nonetheless, a supposed truism that, given enough typewriters and monkeys and a sufficient span of time (say, an eternity), a great novel could one day emerge. What we're saying (in a style perhaps unfamiliar to subscribers of Sloth Smackdown Monthly) is this: So long as you insist upon acquiring your bitters at the Marché Rapide de Dogpatch, we would at least encourage you to be discreet when disposal time rolls around.
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Displayed Reading Materials
As you are, doubtless, aware, numerous Supreme Court rulings from the Burger Court (1969-1986), guarantee your right to read whatever trash you like in the privacy of your own home. As long as it stays there, it is none of our business. The moment you commingle it outside with the rest of your trash, however, it falls within our jurisdiction. See United States v. Oswald, 783 F.2d 663, 666 (6th Cir.1986); California v. Greenwood, 486 U.S. 35 (1988) (no reasonable expectation of privacy in garbage deposited on the curtilage). The materials you choose to discard on a regular basis causes us to pray vigorously for the welfare of your children, but we are not, after all, the Department of Social Services.
A cursory glance at even a tiny sample of the printed matter you flaunt so shamelessly on pick-up day leads us to conclude that your view of the world is warped by that class of periodicals most commonly associated with schlock supermarket checkout counters and racetracks. You may assume that others in the vicinity share your seemingly religious devotion to the breathless comings and goings of Brittney, Angelina, Brad et al., the lurid exploits of underworld dons and donnettes of New Jersey and Moscow, and the accomplishments of dogs who have been trained to do simple math, open the refrigerator, and flush the toilet. But you assume wrong.
We fear that our earlier admonitions to you in this regard have gone unheeded due principally to your innate inability to recognize them as having been framed in the imperative. So let us put it to you plain: The Department will no longer tolerate the crap you spread out like a billboard every Monday night betraying what passes in your world for "values" and making transparent the venue for your sorry upbringing (id est, a barn).
In other words: Stop! Just stop putting this drek outside on the curb! If you ignore this directive, our engineers are under strict orders to retaliate in kind, that is to say, to shovel it all back in the tool shed from whence it came and where you maintain the rest of your bizarro collection.
For the record, we are well aware of your lame effort to stave off the instant citation this morning by stocking your paper bin with back issues of the Utne Reader, The New Yorker, and Commentary. Did you think that our highly-trained professionals would not deduce in a flash that that you could not possibly have reversed a lifetime of self-imposed illiteracy overnight and acquired an insatiable appetite for culture and foreign policy? Did you really suppose that we would not spot the labels on these journals sporting the name and address of the person who lives next door?
What kind of a miscreant stoops so low as to steal his neighbor's garbage in a futile attempt to impress the Department of Sanitation? We've said it before, but in your case it cannot be gainsaid: We were, and remain, singularly unimpressed.
Appendix C sets forth the standards for acceptable disposal of printed matter in this community. Please find someone who knows how to read (all of the words on the page), and have them explain it to you.
Violation of Neighborhood Standards for Disposal of Yard Waste
We don't know where the sludge comes from that you dump outside each week, presumably when you have tired from your "science experiments." Frankly, we don't want to know. But we do know this: It is not yard waste -- not even close. Not only will we not pick it up, should it ever reappear in the specially-marked barrel (provided to you free-of-charge by the taxpayers, among whom, we presume you do not count yourself), we will arrest you, pursuant to our temporary status as deputy sheriffs, conveyed upon us by a special act of the Legislature promulgated in response to you and you alone.
Miscellaneous Violation
Finally, please restrain your cat. Virtually all of the uses he has been observed to have made of the City's trash barrels and recycling bins -- not only the ones in front of your residence, but also, more particularly, your neighbor's -- are prohibited. Should you have any doubt about this, your attention is directed to Appendix D.
You shall remain on probation until the Department is satisfied that you have addressed each of the issues set forth herein.
HEREOF FAIL NOT, FOR YOU SHALL ANSWER YOUR FAILURE TO ABIDE BY THIS ORDER UNDER THE PAINS AND PENALTIES OF LAW.
The Commisioner of Sanitation
Thursday, February 11, 2010
A Trip Down Memory Lane in the Glove Compartment
Nothing like scraping snow off the car with a broken lipstick. What else does she keep in here? What the hell is this? A metal top hat playing piece from a Monoply board game? Yes, Yes. I can see the indispensible utilitarian value of this implement. Let's do a quick calculation, shall we?
OK. 3 feet of snow already on the ground and still falling. Approximately 100 square feet of snow covering the roof, mirrors, windows, lights and grille. Rate of snowfall is approximately 3 inches an hour. Projected to fall for another 8 hours. The miniature top hat holds approximately 0.00000000000001 cubic milileters all at once! Working at a steady clip without resting or pausing to exchange pleasantries with the neighbor about my cat's latest crimes, I can finish this job in -- umm, 100 into 0.00000000000001; moving the decimal around in a crazy counterclokwise motion and riding roughshod over the rule of "i" before "e" except after "c" and when sounded like "ay" as in "neighbor" and "way;" carry the 2, and remember to thank the helping verb -- why, I can finish this job 3 months after I'm dead already!
What else? A floor plan from the Museum of Modern Art from1996. Another essential item. Maybe Mark Rothko and Jasper Johns could come over and help out. While we're waiting for them to show up, let's see what else we can find.
Hey, look! A plastic fork! No glove compartment should be without a plastic fork, because you never know when you might be driving alone in the wilderness when suddenly, some Chinese takeout will appear out of nowhere. Imagine if that happened and you didn't have a plastic fork! Then where would you be? Up you-know-what's-creek without a plastic fork -- that's where. Maybe the plastic fork and the top hat could work together in tandem. Teamwork. That's the ticket! Get the job done in half the time.
And what's this? Some kind of catalogue? Why is it glued to the back of the compartment like that? Is it insulation to keep the fork warm? I don't get it. Let's just rip it it out and toss it in the...Say! Victoria's Secret! This looks like a good one. I haven't seen this one, I don't think. Let's examine it to make sure. Hmmmm. Indeed. All sorts of important product releases in here. "Tear away tabs." What are those?
What!? What's that? I'm not reading anything! I'm just looking for a scraper or something in your glove compartment! You know, to get the snow off the car. I wasn't...This? It's, I dunno. It's a floor plan from MOMA. You want to keep that? Yeah, OK. Good. It'll definitely come in handy. The cafeteria's on the ground floor in that indoor/outdoor courtyard around the corner from the Picasso baboon made out of a toy Volkswagon. That's good information to have for the next time you run out of gas right in front of MOMA feeling faint from hunger at that precise moment. What's that? Yeah, OK. I'll see you inside when I'm done with this. OK. See you inside. Warm up some kasha and chicken broth.
OK. Where was I? Say! Look at all these parking tickets. That's a good place to store 'em. Outta sight, outta mind, I always say. If you can't remember that you stuffed them in here in the first place, then you don't have to pay them. That's the rule. I'm pretty sure of it. "Your Honor. There was no probable cause to search the car. Those parking tickets are fruits of a poisonous tree. That evidence must be excluded. My client is innocent! The Commonwealth has no case! Thank you for ruling in my favor your honor. I move that the assistant district attorney be held in contempt and thrown into the dungeon!"
Alright! Who keeps a hair crimper thing in the glove compartment? Does she actually drive while styling her hair? If it plugged into the cigarette lighter, maybe I could melt the snow away. Just think of it; if the hair crimper, the plastic fork and the little metal hat all used their special powers at once they could be like superheros, or something. They could star in a comic book series. They could call it: The Amazing Adventures of The 3 Chotchkes.
What do we have here? Gum? Hmm. Judging by the number of rings in the trunk, I'd say it dates back to the fall of the Berlin Wall. Oy gevalt! Hard as a rock! Well, I guess I found my scraper. Hoo Boy! That hurt! I hope I have some teeth left.
What? I don't understand your sign language. You're making eating motions. I'm not getting it. Don't stand there with the door open, you'll let all the cold air in the house -- not to mention catch your death of cold. What are you trying to say? Why are you holding up a soup spoon? Alright, I'll hold up a plastic fork. No? No good? How's about a hair crimper? Oh. Lunch is ready? OK. I'll be right in! Yeah, I made substantial progress. I'll finish up right after lunch {in some dreamworld, but not in real life.} What!? OK! I'm coming! I'm coming!
Alright. I...Oh, great! Now the door is frozen shut. I can't get out of here. I'll just have to sit in here and peruse these parking tickets and any other literature lying around. Man, I hate this. I could freeze to death in here reading all this old, outdated material. Why do these things always happen to me? In June, when the snow melts and they can finally pry the doors open, they'll find me lying in here dead clutching a floor plan from MOMA and a plastic fork.
Admit it; winter sucks.
OK. 3 feet of snow already on the ground and still falling. Approximately 100 square feet of snow covering the roof, mirrors, windows, lights and grille. Rate of snowfall is approximately 3 inches an hour. Projected to fall for another 8 hours. The miniature top hat holds approximately 0.00000000000001 cubic milileters all at once! Working at a steady clip without resting or pausing to exchange pleasantries with the neighbor about my cat's latest crimes, I can finish this job in -- umm, 100 into 0.00000000000001; moving the decimal around in a crazy counterclokwise motion and riding roughshod over the rule of "i" before "e" except after "c" and when sounded like "ay" as in "neighbor" and "way;" carry the 2, and remember to thank the helping verb -- why, I can finish this job 3 months after I'm dead already!
What else? A floor plan from the Museum of Modern Art from1996. Another essential item. Maybe Mark Rothko and Jasper Johns could come over and help out. While we're waiting for them to show up, let's see what else we can find.
Hey, look! A plastic fork! No glove compartment should be without a plastic fork, because you never know when you might be driving alone in the wilderness when suddenly, some Chinese takeout will appear out of nowhere. Imagine if that happened and you didn't have a plastic fork! Then where would you be? Up you-know-what's-creek without a plastic fork -- that's where. Maybe the plastic fork and the top hat could work together in tandem. Teamwork. That's the ticket! Get the job done in half the time.
And what's this? Some kind of catalogue? Why is it glued to the back of the compartment like that? Is it insulation to keep the fork warm? I don't get it. Let's just rip it it out and toss it in the...Say! Victoria's Secret! This looks like a good one. I haven't seen this one, I don't think. Let's examine it to make sure. Hmmmm. Indeed. All sorts of important product releases in here. "Tear away tabs." What are those?
What!? What's that? I'm not reading anything! I'm just looking for a scraper or something in your glove compartment! You know, to get the snow off the car. I wasn't...This? It's, I dunno. It's a floor plan from MOMA. You want to keep that? Yeah, OK. Good. It'll definitely come in handy. The cafeteria's on the ground floor in that indoor/outdoor courtyard around the corner from the Picasso baboon made out of a toy Volkswagon. That's good information to have for the next time you run out of gas right in front of MOMA feeling faint from hunger at that precise moment. What's that? Yeah, OK. I'll see you inside when I'm done with this. OK. See you inside. Warm up some kasha and chicken broth.
OK. Where was I? Say! Look at all these parking tickets. That's a good place to store 'em. Outta sight, outta mind, I always say. If you can't remember that you stuffed them in here in the first place, then you don't have to pay them. That's the rule. I'm pretty sure of it. "Your Honor. There was no probable cause to search the car. Those parking tickets are fruits of a poisonous tree. That evidence must be excluded. My client is innocent! The Commonwealth has no case! Thank you for ruling in my favor your honor. I move that the assistant district attorney be held in contempt and thrown into the dungeon!"
Alright! Who keeps a hair crimper thing in the glove compartment? Does she actually drive while styling her hair? If it plugged into the cigarette lighter, maybe I could melt the snow away. Just think of it; if the hair crimper, the plastic fork and the little metal hat all used their special powers at once they could be like superheros, or something. They could star in a comic book series. They could call it: The Amazing Adventures of The 3 Chotchkes.
What do we have here? Gum? Hmm. Judging by the number of rings in the trunk, I'd say it dates back to the fall of the Berlin Wall. Oy gevalt! Hard as a rock! Well, I guess I found my scraper. Hoo Boy! That hurt! I hope I have some teeth left.
What? I don't understand your sign language. You're making eating motions. I'm not getting it. Don't stand there with the door open, you'll let all the cold air in the house -- not to mention catch your death of cold. What are you trying to say? Why are you holding up a soup spoon? Alright, I'll hold up a plastic fork. No? No good? How's about a hair crimper? Oh. Lunch is ready? OK. I'll be right in! Yeah, I made substantial progress. I'll finish up right after lunch {in some dreamworld, but not in real life.} What!? OK! I'm coming! I'm coming!
Alright. I...Oh, great! Now the door is frozen shut. I can't get out of here. I'll just have to sit in here and peruse these parking tickets and any other literature lying around. Man, I hate this. I could freeze to death in here reading all this old, outdated material. Why do these things always happen to me? In June, when the snow melts and they can finally pry the doors open, they'll find me lying in here dead clutching a floor plan from MOMA and a plastic fork.
Admit it; winter sucks.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
PAST IS PROLOGUE -- AND VICE VERSA
Your Past Lives Diagnosis from PastLivesAreUs.Org:
Your profile indicates that in your last earthly incarnation, you were a nearsighted French printer responsible for producing the official documents at the Treaty of Versailles in 1919 and distributing them to the diplomats negotiating the end of World War I. Because of a faulty gear in your printing press, coupled with your vision impairment, the phrase: "Germany is to be offered generous terms" became "Germany is to be offered onerous terms" in the treaty that was finally signed and enforced.
Prior to this time, according to your profile, you were an itinerant rogue cartographer, wit, and raconteur slumming around Genoa, Italy in or about the year 1492. Through sheer happenstance (that is to say, happenstance that you can practically see through), you wormed your way into the inner circle of an explorer named Cristoforo Colombo.
Columbo was adamant that the most practical route to India was overland, but you talked him out of it by showing him one of your maps drawn hastily while on the run from a jealous husband in Naples. You coined the phrase: "Go West, middle-aged man."
Enraged by your reckless insouciance in matters cartographic (especially because Columbo was playing with the house's money), the Spanish Crown launched the Inquisition, whereupon you coined the phrase "¡Ay, caramba!"
At one point during your incorporeal sojourn, you were an adviser to the priests at the Aztec Templo Mayor in Tenochtitlan, Mexico in the 1390s. The priests at that time practiced a ritual gentle back rub on the supplicants to please the gods. However, your incessant hiccuping-laden speech was mistaken for advocating a slightly more dramatic ceremony of human sacrifice wherein the heart of the live worshiper was cut from his body and placed still beating in a bowl on the alter, a practice soon standardized by the religious elite thanks to your "advocacy."
Your next most recent earthly incarnation was as a slave stone carver of monument inscriptions in the Roman Empire. Due to your apparent inability to follow instructions, you invented ALL CAPS.
Finally, it appears you may have been a talking snake in a Near Eastern garden in a very distant past. The following conversation between you and a woman is in the profile:
You: anee ra׳ev אֲנִי רָעֵב
(I'm famished). How's about reaching for me that apple, bubbeleh?
Woman: We're not supposed to.
You: Awww. C'mon. Who could it hurt?
_________________________________________
Thanks for visiting PastLivesAreUs.Org.
We always say: "You'll keep coming back until you get it right."
Your profile indicates that in your last earthly incarnation, you were a nearsighted French printer responsible for producing the official documents at the Treaty of Versailles in 1919 and distributing them to the diplomats negotiating the end of World War I. Because of a faulty gear in your printing press, coupled with your vision impairment, the phrase: "Germany is to be offered generous terms" became "Germany is to be offered onerous terms" in the treaty that was finally signed and enforced.
Prior to this time, according to your profile, you were an itinerant rogue cartographer, wit, and raconteur slumming around Genoa, Italy in or about the year 1492. Through sheer happenstance (that is to say, happenstance that you can practically see through), you wormed your way into the inner circle of an explorer named Cristoforo Colombo.
Columbo was adamant that the most practical route to India was overland, but you talked him out of it by showing him one of your maps drawn hastily while on the run from a jealous husband in Naples. You coined the phrase: "Go West, middle-aged man."
Enraged by your reckless insouciance in matters cartographic (especially because Columbo was playing with the house's money), the Spanish Crown launched the Inquisition, whereupon you coined the phrase "¡Ay, caramba!"
At one point during your incorporeal sojourn, you were an adviser to the priests at the Aztec Templo Mayor in Tenochtitlan, Mexico in the 1390s. The priests at that time practiced a ritual gentle back rub on the supplicants to please the gods. However, your incessant hiccuping-laden speech was mistaken for advocating a slightly more dramatic ceremony of human sacrifice wherein the heart of the live worshiper was cut from his body and placed still beating in a bowl on the alter, a practice soon standardized by the religious elite thanks to your "advocacy."
Your next most recent earthly incarnation was as a slave stone carver of monument inscriptions in the Roman Empire. Due to your apparent inability to follow instructions, you invented ALL CAPS.
Finally, it appears you may have been a talking snake in a Near Eastern garden in a very distant past. The following conversation between you and a woman is in the profile:
You: anee ra׳ev אֲנִי רָעֵב
(I'm famished). How's about reaching for me that apple, bubbeleh?
Woman: We're not supposed to.
You: Awww. C'mon. Who could it hurt?
_________________________________________
Thanks for visiting PastLivesAreUs.Org.
We always say: "You'll keep coming back until you get it right."
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Our Country Write or Left
*
*
*
We decided to secede and form our own country. At roughly 5,323 square feet, it would be the smallest country in the world -- smaller even than Lichtenstein.
We needed a flag. We didn't have one, but we did have an old beach towel emblazoned with the insignia of Avis Rent-a-Car. We hung it out the window to demonstrate our independence. This is how the motto of our country became: "We try harder."
We thought a constitution would be a good thing to have. Ours was a small country, so we didn't need a long Constitution with a lot of flowery language and Roman numerals. We spotted a promotional announcement and photocopied it. This is how our constitution came to be:
Our country is always:
* Trustworthy,
* Loyal,
* Helpful,
* Friendly,
* Courteous,
* Kind,
* Obedient,
* Cheerful,
* Thrifty,
* Brave,
* Clean,
* and Reverent.
What next? A National bank! We emptied out the Tsedakah box and found some checks, an I.O.U., and what may have once been a paper clip. Better to peg our currency to something else and try to get some foreign investment going. As we had seceded, borrowing a hundred bucks from the neighbor would qualify as foreign investment.
We realized then that we'd need a visa to step foot on our neighbor's driveway. (Making a country is more complicated than it seems.) Of course, he'd need one to step foot on ours -- and we may not let him in if he was on our watch list (which we could make up on the spot, because, it's our country, and we can do what we want).
The thought of our neighbor stepping foot on our driveway put us in mind of mustering a militia, as in days of olde at the rude bridge that arched the flood in Concord. Except that, we didn't have any Minutemen or muskets or horses. Just a cat who kept the country safe from the threat of birds and mice. We put him out and sent him to the front to scout for possible invasion.
What to call our country? How about "Avis?" It was already on our flag, and it seemed like a natural choice, besides which, it would always pop up near the top in lists of countries. But not the top. And that's a problem when you're a small country just starting out. You need to make a splash.
This is how our country came to be called: AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark.
Flag, Constitution, fiscal policy, immigration reform, military, name -- what was missing? An anthem. We could commission one, but with a budget stretched to the limit by our efforts to secure the border, we'd have to write one ourselves.
This is how the anthem of our country came to be:
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
We try harder!
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
Trustworthy,
Obedient,
Cheerful,
Thrifty,
Brave,
and Clean,
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
Ok, maybe "brave" is pushing it.
We faxed the sheet music off to the Olympic Committe just in case we ever medaled in something. Not bloody likely, of course, but it's better to "be prepared," which, as fate would have it, almost became the motto of our country, except that it wasn't already on the flag.
Just as we were pondering this dilemna, we saw our neighbor invading. Where was our armed forces? In retreat? Lost in the woods? Lying in wait?
Suddenly, there was a loud report. It sounded like gunshots (but, of course, it was really just the neighbor pounding on the window). We opened the door and there stood the ambassador from next door holding our military by the scruff of its neck.
"How many times have I told you to keep this cat off my lawn!?" he demanded.
"Look here," we said. "We are a sovereign state. You can't just barge across the boundary line. You need a passport. You're probably on a watch list."
He flung the cat into the living room and stormed off towards his homeland.
"We hope this little international incident won't prejudice our request for foreign assistance," we called after him.
But diplomatic relations had not yet been established and the attitude of his government was icy cold, as was the February air. He repatriated without another word.
Having suffered its first defeat, the AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark armed forces regrouped on the couch, where it took a nap.
We retired to the National Assembly (which doubled as the kitchen) and waited for Vanuatu to telephone its recognition.
*
*
We decided to secede and form our own country. At roughly 5,323 square feet, it would be the smallest country in the world -- smaller even than Lichtenstein.
We needed a flag. We didn't have one, but we did have an old beach towel emblazoned with the insignia of Avis Rent-a-Car. We hung it out the window to demonstrate our independence. This is how the motto of our country became: "We try harder."
We thought a constitution would be a good thing to have. Ours was a small country, so we didn't need a long Constitution with a lot of flowery language and Roman numerals. We spotted a promotional announcement and photocopied it. This is how our constitution came to be:
Our country is always:
* Trustworthy,
* Loyal,
* Helpful,
* Friendly,
* Courteous,
* Kind,
* Obedient,
* Cheerful,
* Thrifty,
* Brave,
* Clean,
* and Reverent.
What next? A National bank! We emptied out the Tsedakah box and found some checks, an I.O.U., and what may have once been a paper clip. Better to peg our currency to something else and try to get some foreign investment going. As we had seceded, borrowing a hundred bucks from the neighbor would qualify as foreign investment.
We realized then that we'd need a visa to step foot on our neighbor's driveway. (Making a country is more complicated than it seems.) Of course, he'd need one to step foot on ours -- and we may not let him in if he was on our watch list (which we could make up on the spot, because, it's our country, and we can do what we want).
The thought of our neighbor stepping foot on our driveway put us in mind of mustering a militia, as in days of olde at the rude bridge that arched the flood in Concord. Except that, we didn't have any Minutemen or muskets or horses. Just a cat who kept the country safe from the threat of birds and mice. We put him out and sent him to the front to scout for possible invasion.
What to call our country? How about "Avis?" It was already on our flag, and it seemed like a natural choice, besides which, it would always pop up near the top in lists of countries. But not the top. And that's a problem when you're a small country just starting out. You need to make a splash.
This is how our country came to be called: AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark.
Flag, Constitution, fiscal policy, immigration reform, military, name -- what was missing? An anthem. We could commission one, but with a budget stretched to the limit by our efforts to secure the border, we'd have to write one ourselves.
This is how the anthem of our country came to be:
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
We try harder!
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
Trustworthy,
Obedient,
Cheerful,
Thrifty,
Brave,
and Clean,
AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark
Ok, maybe "brave" is pushing it.
We faxed the sheet music off to the Olympic Committe just in case we ever medaled in something. Not bloody likely, of course, but it's better to "be prepared," which, as fate would have it, almost became the motto of our country, except that it wasn't already on the flag.
Just as we were pondering this dilemna, we saw our neighbor invading. Where was our armed forces? In retreat? Lost in the woods? Lying in wait?
Suddenly, there was a loud report. It sounded like gunshots (but, of course, it was really just the neighbor pounding on the window). We opened the door and there stood the ambassador from next door holding our military by the scruff of its neck.
"How many times have I told you to keep this cat off my lawn!?" he demanded.
"Look here," we said. "We are a sovereign state. You can't just barge across the boundary line. You need a passport. You're probably on a watch list."
He flung the cat into the living room and stormed off towards his homeland.
"We hope this little international incident won't prejudice our request for foreign assistance," we called after him.
But diplomatic relations had not yet been established and the attitude of his government was icy cold, as was the February air. He repatriated without another word.
Having suffered its first defeat, the AAAAAAAAAAAArdvark armed forces regrouped on the couch, where it took a nap.
We retired to the National Assembly (which doubled as the kitchen) and waited for Vanuatu to telephone its recognition.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
WHEN DOGS ARE IN CHARGE
*
*
*
18th Annual Dog Convention
Boston Common
"Be at that, or be a cat"
AGENDA
5:30 a.m. Location: Park Street T Entrance -- Opening rebarks by Top Dog, Bo Obama (Live from Washington via barking chain)
5:33 a.m. -- Location: Corner of Tremont and Arlington Streets by the Arlington T Entrance --
Snooze time.
6:00 a.m. -- Location: Throughout the Common --
Mayhem and rough-housing. (Separate mayhem group for medium to small dogs will meet at the Frog Pond).
6:30 a.m. -- Location: Beacon Hill Across from the State House by the Civil War Statue --
Call to Order.
(Ha, Ha. That is a joke)
6:31 a.m. -- Location: Throughout the Common --
More Rough-housing and mayhem!
6:45 a.m. -- Location: Corner of Beacon and Charles Streets (near the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses) --
BREAKFAST!
6:47 a.m. --
Barking at the the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses.
6:53 a.m. --
Seriatim peeing on the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses
7:06 a.m. -- Location: Baseball diamond (Charles Street Side) --
Sniffing free-for-all. (Separate sniffing-free-for-all for small to medium dogs by the hot dog stand).
Get it? The hot DOG stand!
8:03 a.m. -- We gather momentarily at the Charles Street entrance across from the Public Garden and split into caucus groups.
A. Caucus A will run into the road stopping traffic, continuing into the Public Garden, sprinting over the bridge spanning the Swan Boat lagoon and regrouping at the statute of George Washington for seriatim sniffing and peeing. (We'll pose for group photos and barking).
B. Caucus B will run alongside the Duck Tours trolley barking incessantly at the tourists who will be quaking back at them.
C. Caucus C will prance to the Make Way for Ducklings statue for seriatim sniffing and peeing and putting of front paws on, and barking at, ducks.
D. Caucus D will run around in circles aimlessly and then, without warning, take a nap.
E. Caucus E. will whimper on the sidelines and then lie down.
And then get up.
And then lie down.
And then get up.
And then turn around in a circle a whole bunch of times.
And then lie down.
F. Caucus F. will chase pigeons near the Park Street T entrance and then join Caucus E and lie down.
9: 45 a.m. -- All locations -- SNACKS!
10: a.m. -- All locations -- Snoozing
10:46 a.m. All locations -- Snoozing with one eye open.
10: 47 a.m. All locations -- Snoozing on back with paws up in the air
10:49 a.m. -- All locations -- Woofing in sleep while dreaming of rabbits and cats.
10: 52 a.m. -- All locations -- Stretching (downward dog).
10: 56 a.m.-- All locations -- begging for snacks.
10:59. a.m. -- All locations -- SNACKS!
Panel Discussions -- 11:00 a.m. to 11:13 a.m.
Location: Public Garden (by the Swan Boats) --
"Are Prairie Dogs Giving Us a Bad Name?" (Hound, Huckelberry, panel chair)
----------------------------------
Location: Public Garden (near the rose beds and the sign that says "Keep Off the Grass. No Dogs." --
"Is Dino from the Flinstones Supposed to be a Dog or a Dinosaur or Both?" (Guest panelist -- Astro from "The Jetsons.")
------------------------------------
Location: The Common (near the 17th Century Burial Ground)
"Is 'dog-earred' a derogatory term?"
(Dog, Wonder and Yeller, Old -- co-chairs)
-----------------------------------------------------
11: 14 a.m. -- Crazy time (all locations)
12:00 p.m. --
Location: Corner of Beacon and Charles Streets (near the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses) --
LUNCH!
12:14 p.m. Mini Workshops
"Getting Away with Humping"
Location: The Common (near the bandshell)
Barkley (Sesame Street) (workshop leader)
-------------------------------------
"Think Before Knocking Over the Garbage -- Can the Cat be Blamed?"
Location: The Common (near the corner of Charles and Beacon Streets)
Night, Three Dog (workshop leader)
--------------------------------------
"Become Indispensable and Get Taken on Every Trip"
Location: The Public Garden (near the Frederick Law Olmstead statue)
Charlie, Travels with (workshop leader)
--------------------------------------
1:00 p.m. -- All locations
SNACK!
1:03 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.-- All locations --
Napping.
4:00 P.M. -- The Cow path --
Frisbee time.
5:32: p.m. -- Location: Tremont Street side (across the street from the movie theater)
Presentation of the Bone for Lifetime Achievement in a leading canine role. Presented to: Beethoven (the dog, not the composer).
5:43 p.m. -- All Locations --
Random inspection of the tree trunks.
6:02 P.M. -- Location: Park Street Side (across from the Boston BarK Association headquarters)
Closing Rebarks
by Scuppers (the Dog Who Belonged to Himself)
________________________________
Don't forget to steal some kittle swag on the way home!
________________________________
Honk if You Like Honking Salutes the great dogs (including those who were themselves vicitms) who have performed heroic rescues amid the recent devastaion in Haiti and all over the world:
http://www.pawesome.net/2010/01/dogs-rescue-earthquake-victims-in-haiti.html
http://news.discovery.com/animals/search-and-rescue-dogs-from-around-the-world-go-to-haiti.html
http://www.consumeraffairs.com/news04/2010/01/haiti_rescue_dogs.html
*
*
18th Annual Dog Convention
Boston Common
"Be at that, or be a cat"
AGENDA
5:30 a.m. Location: Park Street T Entrance -- Opening rebarks by Top Dog, Bo Obama (Live from Washington via barking chain)
5:33 a.m. -- Location: Corner of Tremont and Arlington Streets by the Arlington T Entrance --
Snooze time.
6:00 a.m. -- Location: Throughout the Common --
Mayhem and rough-housing. (Separate mayhem group for medium to small dogs will meet at the Frog Pond).
6:30 a.m. -- Location: Beacon Hill Across from the State House by the Civil War Statue --
Call to Order.
(Ha, Ha. That is a joke)
6:31 a.m. -- Location: Throughout the Common --
More Rough-housing and mayhem!
6:45 a.m. -- Location: Corner of Beacon and Charles Streets (near the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses) --
BREAKFAST!
6:47 a.m. --
Barking at the the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses.
6:53 a.m. --
Seriatim peeing on the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses
7:06 a.m. -- Location: Baseball diamond (Charles Street Side) --
Sniffing free-for-all. (Separate sniffing-free-for-all for small to medium dogs by the hot dog stand).
Get it? The hot DOG stand!
8:03 a.m. -- We gather momentarily at the Charles Street entrance across from the Public Garden and split into caucus groups.
A. Caucus A will run into the road stopping traffic, continuing into the Public Garden, sprinting over the bridge spanning the Swan Boat lagoon and regrouping at the statute of George Washington for seriatim sniffing and peeing. (We'll pose for group photos and barking).
B. Caucus B will run alongside the Duck Tours trolley barking incessantly at the tourists who will be quaking back at them.
C. Caucus C will prance to the Make Way for Ducklings statue for seriatim sniffing and peeing and putting of front paws on, and barking at, ducks.
D. Caucus D will run around in circles aimlessly and then, without warning, take a nap.
E. Caucus E. will whimper on the sidelines and then lie down.
And then get up.
And then lie down.
And then get up.
And then turn around in a circle a whole bunch of times.
And then lie down.
F. Caucus F. will chase pigeons near the Park Street T entrance and then join Caucus E and lie down.
9: 45 a.m. -- All locations -- SNACKS!
10: a.m. -- All locations -- Snoozing
10:46 a.m. All locations -- Snoozing with one eye open.
10: 47 a.m. All locations -- Snoozing on back with paws up in the air
10:49 a.m. -- All locations -- Woofing in sleep while dreaming of rabbits and cats.
10: 52 a.m. -- All locations -- Stretching (downward dog).
10: 56 a.m.-- All locations -- begging for snacks.
10:59. a.m. -- All locations -- SNACKS!
Panel Discussions -- 11:00 a.m. to 11:13 a.m.
Location: Public Garden (by the Swan Boats) --
"Are Prairie Dogs Giving Us a Bad Name?" (Hound, Huckelberry, panel chair)
----------------------------------
Location: Public Garden (near the rose beds and the sign that says "Keep Off the Grass. No Dogs." --
"Is Dino from the Flinstones Supposed to be a Dog or a Dinosaur or Both?" (Guest panelist -- Astro from "The Jetsons.")
------------------------------------
Location: The Common (near the 17th Century Burial Ground)
"Is 'dog-earred' a derogatory term?"
(Dog, Wonder and Yeller, Old -- co-chairs)
-----------------------------------------------------
11: 14 a.m. -- Crazy time (all locations)
12:00 p.m. --
Location: Corner of Beacon and Charles Streets (near the inexplicably ugly statue of exhausted soldiers on emaciated horses) --
LUNCH!
12:14 p.m. Mini Workshops
"Getting Away with Humping"
Location: The Common (near the bandshell)
Barkley (Sesame Street) (workshop leader)
-------------------------------------
"Think Before Knocking Over the Garbage -- Can the Cat be Blamed?"
Location: The Common (near the corner of Charles and Beacon Streets)
Night, Three Dog (workshop leader)
--------------------------------------
"Become Indispensable and Get Taken on Every Trip"
Location: The Public Garden (near the Frederick Law Olmstead statue)
Charlie, Travels with (workshop leader)
--------------------------------------
1:00 p.m. -- All locations
SNACK!
1:03 p.m. to 4:00 p.m.-- All locations --
Napping.
4:00 P.M. -- The Cow path --
Frisbee time.
5:32: p.m. -- Location: Tremont Street side (across the street from the movie theater)
Presentation of the Bone for Lifetime Achievement in a leading canine role. Presented to: Beethoven (the dog, not the composer).
5:43 p.m. -- All Locations --
Random inspection of the tree trunks.
6:02 P.M. -- Location: Park Street Side (across from the Boston BarK Association headquarters)
Closing Rebarks
by Scuppers (the Dog Who Belonged to Himself)
________________________________
Don't forget to steal some kittle swag on the way home!
________________________________
Honk if You Like Honking Salutes the great dogs (including those who were themselves vicitms) who have performed heroic rescues amid the recent devastaion in Haiti and all over the world:
http://www.pawesome.net/2010/01/dogs-rescue-earthquake-victims-in-haiti.html
http://news.discovery.com/animals/search-and-rescue-dogs-from-around-the-world-go-to-haiti.html
http://www.consumeraffairs.com/news04/2010/01/haiti_rescue_dogs.html
Monday, February 1, 2010
THE CENSUS IS COMING! THE CENSUS IS COMING!
In the old days, we wanted to know how many slaves you had (manumitted/ mitted) and how many idiots lived in your root cellar and how many mules you had in your barn, and whether anybody in your house knew how to read and do sums, and so forth. But that was then, this is now. We're the first Census of the 21st Century, and we're shaking things up!
In addition to the usual statistics that we gather and disseminate to various secret sects such as the Masons and the Office of Management and Budget, this year we've added a few categories.
Please remember to mail the completed form back to us. Don't mail it to the Canadian Census. We're sure that they'd dearly love to count you in their census, because all their people are here (Examples: Alex Trebeccccccccccccccccccccccccccc!, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Martin Short, Michael J. Fox, Mike Meyers, Sandra Oh, Alanis Morissette, Eugene Levy, James Cameron, Jim Carrey, Neve Campbell, William Shatner, Shania Twain, Pamela Anderson, etc). But that's their problem.
It's Ok to spindle the form but don't bend, fold, or mutilate it. Good luck trying to find a spindle. Nobody even knows what they are anymore.
Now to the questions:
1. How many slaves do you own? ______
2. How many idiots are you stowing away in the root cellar? ____________
3. Got any mules? __________
4. If you were stuck on a desert island for a year, which could you NOT do without -- Q-tips or dental floss? ______________
5. What kind of an animal would you say you are? (don't say tiger).______
6. Are you in the country legally? ______
7. If you weren't, would you tell us? ____
8. We'd tell you _________
9. Are you really Canadian? ___
10. It's OK, you don't have to be embarrassed about it _________ (See Leonard Cohen, et al., supra).
11. What's you religion? _______
12. How much money do you make? _____
13. What do you fantasize about mostly, would you say? _____ (What's your name, by the way?) _____
14. What's one secret that you've never told anybody? ________
15. Now write down the names of 10 celebrities on folded strips of paper, put them in a bowl, and mail the bowl back to us together with the form ______.
This is a test blank only _______
Do not remove this blank _______
___________
___________
That's it. You're finished.
Please remember to mail the form back to us and not to the Canadians. Don't forget the bowl.
Thank you for participating in the 2010 Census.
You can sit down now.
In addition to the usual statistics that we gather and disseminate to various secret sects such as the Masons and the Office of Management and Budget, this year we've added a few categories.
Please remember to mail the completed form back to us. Don't mail it to the Canadian Census. We're sure that they'd dearly love to count you in their census, because all their people are here (Examples: Alex Trebeccccccccccccccccccccccccccc!, Joni Mitchell, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Martin Short, Michael J. Fox, Mike Meyers, Sandra Oh, Alanis Morissette, Eugene Levy, James Cameron, Jim Carrey, Neve Campbell, William Shatner, Shania Twain, Pamela Anderson, etc). But that's their problem.
It's Ok to spindle the form but don't bend, fold, or mutilate it. Good luck trying to find a spindle. Nobody even knows what they are anymore.
Now to the questions:
1. How many slaves do you own? ______
2. How many idiots are you stowing away in the root cellar? ____________
3. Got any mules? __________
4. If you were stuck on a desert island for a year, which could you NOT do without -- Q-tips or dental floss? ______________
5. What kind of an animal would you say you are? (don't say tiger).______
6. Are you in the country legally? ______
7. If you weren't, would you tell us? ____
8. We'd tell you _________
9. Are you really Canadian? ___
10. It's OK, you don't have to be embarrassed about it _________ (See Leonard Cohen, et al., supra).
11. What's you religion? _______
12. How much money do you make? _____
13. What do you fantasize about mostly, would you say? _____ (What's your name, by the way?) _____
14. What's one secret that you've never told anybody? ________
15. Now write down the names of 10 celebrities on folded strips of paper, put them in a bowl, and mail the bowl back to us together with the form ______.
This is a test blank only _______
Do not remove this blank _______
___________
___________
That's it. You're finished.
Please remember to mail the form back to us and not to the Canadians. Don't forget the bowl.
Thank you for participating in the 2010 Census.
You can sit down now.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
So You Want to Be Tax-Exempt
*
*
*
(Please answer all that apply and all that don't)
How do you plan to qualify for 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status?
I plan to form a cult.
Describe the principal activities of your organization.
Brainwashing. Soliciting money under false pretenses. Affixing to windshields flyers cleverly designed to look like parking tickets.
Do you plan to solicit donations?
Not exactly.
If you answered no to the preceding question, how do you plan to raise funds?
Well, much like a bank, I plan to raise interest rates arbitrarily and to rake in late fees, overdraft fees, transaction fees, incoming wire fees, "convenience fees," and fees for using other cults, etc. Also, bake sales.
What services to you plan to provide?
See answer to the preceding question.
Will you have physical office-space?
What do you mean "physical?" I have one of those thingys that you squeeze to keep your knuckles flexible. Is that what you're talking about?
How will you advertise your services?
Flyers on windshields. Haven't you been listening to a thing I said?
How many employees do you expect to have during the next 12 months?
Employees? You mean like "volunteers?" If you call them "volunteers," then, lawfully, you don't have to pay them, do you?
Do you expect to have employees for whom you will make withholdings?
Oh yes. I plan to withhold from all of them.
Do you expect to solicit goods or services from outside the United States?
Only from Lichtenstein. But that's practically like the 51st state, c'mon.
Will your organization engage in wagering?
You mean like playing the stock market with social security funds? Or making such an enormous volume of sub-prime loans that Iceland goes bankrupt? Or inventing "credit default swaps?" No nothing like that. OK. Maybe a little Bingo now and again.
Will your organization be affiliated with an organized religion?
Define "organized."
Is there anything else you would like the IRS to consider in ruling on your application for tax-exempt status?
" I cannot undertake to lay my finger on that article of the Constitution which granted a right to Congress of expending, on objects of benevolence, the money of their constituents..."
-- James Madison
Now James Madison was a very great man. In fact, he practically wrote the entire Constitution by himself. With a crappy quill pen. Plus, he was on the $5,000 bill. $5,000! Can you imagine if Yip Harburg were on the $5,000 bill? He would have written: "Buddy, Can You Spare $5,000?" And who walks around with that kind of change?
Oh please, please, please make me tax-exempt, Dear IRS.
You won't regret it.
I'm trying to create good cult jobs right here in America.
If you don't make me tax-exempt, I'll have to relocate to the Caymen Islands, taking all my "volunteers" with me.
That's all I'm saying.
*
*
(Please answer all that apply and all that don't)
How do you plan to qualify for 501(c)(3) tax-exempt status?
I plan to form a cult.
Describe the principal activities of your organization.
Brainwashing. Soliciting money under false pretenses. Affixing to windshields flyers cleverly designed to look like parking tickets.
Do you plan to solicit donations?
Not exactly.
If you answered no to the preceding question, how do you plan to raise funds?
Well, much like a bank, I plan to raise interest rates arbitrarily and to rake in late fees, overdraft fees, transaction fees, incoming wire fees, "convenience fees," and fees for using other cults, etc. Also, bake sales.
What services to you plan to provide?
See answer to the preceding question.
Will you have physical office-space?
What do you mean "physical?" I have one of those thingys that you squeeze to keep your knuckles flexible. Is that what you're talking about?
How will you advertise your services?
Flyers on windshields. Haven't you been listening to a thing I said?
How many employees do you expect to have during the next 12 months?
Employees? You mean like "volunteers?" If you call them "volunteers," then, lawfully, you don't have to pay them, do you?
Do you expect to have employees for whom you will make withholdings?
Oh yes. I plan to withhold from all of them.
Do you expect to solicit goods or services from outside the United States?
Only from Lichtenstein. But that's practically like the 51st state, c'mon.
Will your organization engage in wagering?
You mean like playing the stock market with social security funds? Or making such an enormous volume of sub-prime loans that Iceland goes bankrupt? Or inventing "credit default swaps?" No nothing like that. OK. Maybe a little Bingo now and again.
Will your organization be affiliated with an organized religion?
Define "organized."
Is there anything else you would like the IRS to consider in ruling on your application for tax-exempt status?
" I cannot undertake to lay my finger on that article of the Constitution which granted a right to Congress of expending, on objects of benevolence, the money of their constituents..."
-- James Madison
Now James Madison was a very great man. In fact, he practically wrote the entire Constitution by himself. With a crappy quill pen. Plus, he was on the $5,000 bill. $5,000! Can you imagine if Yip Harburg were on the $5,000 bill? He would have written: "Buddy, Can You Spare $5,000?" And who walks around with that kind of change?
Oh please, please, please make me tax-exempt, Dear IRS.
You won't regret it.
I'm trying to create good cult jobs right here in America.
If you don't make me tax-exempt, I'll have to relocate to the Caymen Islands, taking all my "volunteers" with me.
That's all I'm saying.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
COMMON RECURRING DREAMS AND THEIR MEANINGS
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1. Teeth Fall Out While on Stage Playing Chess Nude Against The New England Patriots Cheerleaders
This dream is sometimes referred to as the "Opening Gambit" dream, because in certain versions, the cheerleaders open with the famous Albin Countergambit, where (3. dxe5 d4) in exchange for the gambit pawn. Black has a central wedge at d4 and gets some chances for an attack. Often White will try to return the pawn at an appropriate moment in order to gain a positional advantage. In the most common version, the cheerleaders have White begin the fight for the center by staking a claim to the d5 square from the wing, in approved hypermodern style. Thus, the appearance of the cheerleaders is a clear reference to the so-called "English Opening."
2. Dreamer, Holding a Cocked Pistol, Receives a Telegram from Mr. Leacock While Viewing a Private Performance of the Pussycat Dolls Singing "What's New Pussycat?" Dressed as "Pussy Galore" from the Bond Film "Goldfinger"
This is a subconscious illusion of literary grandeur. "Mr. Leacock" is clearly a reference to Stephen Leacock, a late 19th Century and early 20th Century Canadian humorist who is said to have been more famous than Canada itself in his day. He influenced the likes of Ring Lardner and Groucho Marx. The appearances of "Pussy" and "Pussycat" represent the volume called "Nonsense Drolleries" by Edward Lear, whose short piece, "The Owl & The Pussy-Cat," must have been familiar to Leacock.
3. President Barack Obama Misses His Connecting Flight, and Air Force One Leaves Without Him, So He Walks Across Lake Michigan to Keep His Appointment with 12 Advisers, Including Paul Volker, for an Important Meeting at the Peter Peterson Institute for International Economics.
Obama used to live in Chicago, so it's not surprising that Lake Michigan would show up. This is an anxiety dream about the abysmal state of service on most major American airlines. The dream's message is that for trips of 500 miles or fewer, it is probably better to drive, but a one-way rental should be considered.
4. Deceased Relatives Come Over for Dinner and Complain About the Choice of Beverages
This is another anxiety dream. It usually means that the household liquor cabinet is looking a tad threadbare.
5, 30,000 U.S. Troops Deploy to Afghanistan. Despite The Troops' Heroic Efforts, The Taliban Get Their Hands on a Nuclear Weapon Triggering a World-Wide Conflict. In the Midst of the Chaos, the Library Delivers a Reminder of Overdue Books.
Again, an anxiety dream whose meaning is fairly obvious. In "night terror" versions, the notice is actually a threat of suspension of borrowing privileges.
6, Dreamer Has a Conversation With a Talking Donkey and a Dead Fish Who Vow to "Avenge" the Results of the Massachusetts Special Senate Election.
Yet another anxiety dream. This time about the failure to pay attention to the "sell-by" dates of perishable supermarket items.
7. Dreamer, Naked in the Subway, Waits for a "D" Train That Never Comes.
This dream is about the MBTA train schedule.
8. Dreamer Goes back in Time and Meets the Chinese Classical Poet, Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum
This is a dream about the importance of peanuts to the economy of the ante-bellum South. It's usually harmless and can be staved off with a glass of warm milk.
9. Dreamer Travels to Outer Space With a Spirit Guide and Views All the Planets in the Solar System (Except Pluto) Aligned and is Then Shown All the Ages of Human Civilization, and Is Then Given All the Answers to the Great Cosmic Questions, and is Filled With a Sense of Indescribable Well-Being and Serenity.
This is a variation of the MBTA train schedule dream.
*
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1. Teeth Fall Out While on Stage Playing Chess Nude Against The New England Patriots Cheerleaders
This dream is sometimes referred to as the "Opening Gambit" dream, because in certain versions, the cheerleaders open with the famous Albin Countergambit, where (3. dxe5 d4) in exchange for the gambit pawn. Black has a central wedge at d4 and gets some chances for an attack. Often White will try to return the pawn at an appropriate moment in order to gain a positional advantage. In the most common version, the cheerleaders have White begin the fight for the center by staking a claim to the d5 square from the wing, in approved hypermodern style. Thus, the appearance of the cheerleaders is a clear reference to the so-called "English Opening."
2. Dreamer, Holding a Cocked Pistol, Receives a Telegram from Mr. Leacock While Viewing a Private Performance of the Pussycat Dolls Singing "What's New Pussycat?" Dressed as "Pussy Galore" from the Bond Film "Goldfinger"
This is a subconscious illusion of literary grandeur. "Mr. Leacock" is clearly a reference to Stephen Leacock, a late 19th Century and early 20th Century Canadian humorist who is said to have been more famous than Canada itself in his day. He influenced the likes of Ring Lardner and Groucho Marx. The appearances of "Pussy" and "Pussycat" represent the volume called "Nonsense Drolleries" by Edward Lear, whose short piece, "The Owl & The Pussy-Cat," must have been familiar to Leacock.
3. President Barack Obama Misses His Connecting Flight, and Air Force One Leaves Without Him, So He Walks Across Lake Michigan to Keep His Appointment with 12 Advisers, Including Paul Volker, for an Important Meeting at the Peter Peterson Institute for International Economics.
Obama used to live in Chicago, so it's not surprising that Lake Michigan would show up. This is an anxiety dream about the abysmal state of service on most major American airlines. The dream's message is that for trips of 500 miles or fewer, it is probably better to drive, but a one-way rental should be considered.
4. Deceased Relatives Come Over for Dinner and Complain About the Choice of Beverages
This is another anxiety dream. It usually means that the household liquor cabinet is looking a tad threadbare.
5, 30,000 U.S. Troops Deploy to Afghanistan. Despite The Troops' Heroic Efforts, The Taliban Get Their Hands on a Nuclear Weapon Triggering a World-Wide Conflict. In the Midst of the Chaos, the Library Delivers a Reminder of Overdue Books.
Again, an anxiety dream whose meaning is fairly obvious. In "night terror" versions, the notice is actually a threat of suspension of borrowing privileges.
6, Dreamer Has a Conversation With a Talking Donkey and a Dead Fish Who Vow to "Avenge" the Results of the Massachusetts Special Senate Election.
Yet another anxiety dream. This time about the failure to pay attention to the "sell-by" dates of perishable supermarket items.
7. Dreamer, Naked in the Subway, Waits for a "D" Train That Never Comes.
This dream is about the MBTA train schedule.
8. Dreamer Goes back in Time and Meets the Chinese Classical Poet, Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum
This is a dream about the importance of peanuts to the economy of the ante-bellum South. It's usually harmless and can be staved off with a glass of warm milk.
9. Dreamer Travels to Outer Space With a Spirit Guide and Views All the Planets in the Solar System (Except Pluto) Aligned and is Then Shown All the Ages of Human Civilization, and Is Then Given All the Answers to the Great Cosmic Questions, and is Filled With a Sense of Indescribable Well-Being and Serenity.
This is a variation of the MBTA train schedule dream.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Relaxing Yoga Techniques For The Busy Professional
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Lying on your back, close your eyes and bring your knees to your chest. Try not to think about your account being overdrawn all week, and feel the stress melt away.
Now stretch out your left leg and point your toes towards the ceiling. As you do so, remember that the car mechanic needs to eat, too, and if, as is likely, he overcharged you for the alternator, it will hopefully even out in the end.
Sit in a comfortable posture with an erect spine, preferably in a specific yoga posture such as the padmasana or the Lotus posture. Pay no attention to the scene playing over and over in your mind's eye of you screwing up royally at work today and your boss hauling you in on the carpet.
Energize the breath through pranayama. Resist the urge to obsess about the impending IRS audit. For everything there is a time and a place. Your time will surely come.
Hold a visualization for a few minutes to clear the sensory field and focus the mind internally. (The city affixing a "boot" to your car as a result of your scofflaw status while you are lying on the floor on a mat in a room full of strangers is a good example of one to avoid).
Repeat an affirmation or prayer to increase positive thought power. For example, you might chant: "Everybody else is having more fun than I will ever have in this and every other life I will ever live. I accept and embrace my suffering. Suffering nurtures the soul and prevents me from wasting my time getting paid obscene amounts of money to party at the Playboy Mansion, hang out with beautiful naked chicks in the hot tub, and play Beatles (TM) Rock Band (TM) all the time."
Repeat a mantra such as "OM" or "Ohm" or "OMG!" or "LOL" or "One Hundred and Seven" to still the mind. Ideally one should repeat a mantra at least 108 times before the meditation. Some find that an effective mantra involves calculating the bottomless National Debt on a kind of mental clock, like the one they sometimes have on the Jumbotron in Times. Square. The National Debt goes up by about a million dollars a second, so this exercise will keep your mind sharp and alert.
Silently observe the mind and let it empty itself out, not unlike the way that your 401k has been emptied out in the past year. As you do so, avert your gaze from the discolored blotch on your wrist that suddenly and mysteriously appeared for the first time last week.
Depending on one`s natural temperament, it would help to try and establish contact with a Higher Consciousness through the natural movement of one`s heart. Your attempted contact is very important to the Higher Consciousness who is busy comforting others at the moment. Your patience is appreciated. All entreaties to the Higher Consciousness will be responded to in the order in which they are received.
You may now go forth refreshed and at peace.
*
*
Lying on your back, close your eyes and bring your knees to your chest. Try not to think about your account being overdrawn all week, and feel the stress melt away.
Now stretch out your left leg and point your toes towards the ceiling. As you do so, remember that the car mechanic needs to eat, too, and if, as is likely, he overcharged you for the alternator, it will hopefully even out in the end.
Sit in a comfortable posture with an erect spine, preferably in a specific yoga posture such as the padmasana or the Lotus posture. Pay no attention to the scene playing over and over in your mind's eye of you screwing up royally at work today and your boss hauling you in on the carpet.
Energize the breath through pranayama. Resist the urge to obsess about the impending IRS audit. For everything there is a time and a place. Your time will surely come.
Hold a visualization for a few minutes to clear the sensory field and focus the mind internally. (The city affixing a "boot" to your car as a result of your scofflaw status while you are lying on the floor on a mat in a room full of strangers is a good example of one to avoid).
Repeat an affirmation or prayer to increase positive thought power. For example, you might chant: "Everybody else is having more fun than I will ever have in this and every other life I will ever live. I accept and embrace my suffering. Suffering nurtures the soul and prevents me from wasting my time getting paid obscene amounts of money to party at the Playboy Mansion, hang out with beautiful naked chicks in the hot tub, and play Beatles (TM) Rock Band (TM) all the time."
Repeat a mantra such as "OM" or "Ohm" or "OMG!" or "LOL" or "One Hundred and Seven" to still the mind. Ideally one should repeat a mantra at least 108 times before the meditation. Some find that an effective mantra involves calculating the bottomless National Debt on a kind of mental clock, like the one they sometimes have on the Jumbotron in Times. Square. The National Debt goes up by about a million dollars a second, so this exercise will keep your mind sharp and alert.
Silently observe the mind and let it empty itself out, not unlike the way that your 401k has been emptied out in the past year. As you do so, avert your gaze from the discolored blotch on your wrist that suddenly and mysteriously appeared for the first time last week.
Depending on one`s natural temperament, it would help to try and establish contact with a Higher Consciousness through the natural movement of one`s heart. Your attempted contact is very important to the Higher Consciousness who is busy comforting others at the moment. Your patience is appreciated. All entreaties to the Higher Consciousness will be responded to in the order in which they are received.
You may now go forth refreshed and at peace.
Poll: If the Election Were Held Today, Honk if You Like Honking Would Defeat a Dead Person
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PRINCETON, NJ -- After peaking at 59% last November, Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating continues to fluctuate and now stands at 42% with a margin of error of 58 points. That barely exceeds its 40% unfavorable rating (among the Kurds and the football fans billing themselves as "cheesheads [but, sadly, not "curds"]), and is easily its worst evaluation since the 2008 Democratic National Convention when it was shunned by the Democrats, the Republicans, the Socialists, and the Amish, alike.
Honk if You Like Honking's fluctuating popularity is not unique. President Obama's favorable rating (against which Honk if You Like Honking's rating is measured to make Honk if You Like Honking feel like a tiny grasshopper that even a Buddhist monk wouldn't lose any sleep over sitting on) has declined as well, though it has taken a slightly different trajectory than Honk if You Like Honking's. Polls demonstrate consistently, for example, that President Obama's name recognition quotient remains at historically high levels on every continent (plus the fake continent of Australia), whereas Honk if You Like Honking's name recognition quotient barely extends beyond the patio.
Below is a map of the Honk if You Like Honking name recognition quotient:
X [you are here]
These data are based on the latest USA/TodayLichtenstein/Tomorrow/Gallup/Giddeyup poll, conducted by James Levine, music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, who evidently doesn't know how to conduct a poll, but probably is good at conducting something -- maybe electricity. Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating has dropped by five or six points each of the last three times Gallup/Giddeyup has updated it, and seems to remain stable when people are left alone.
The source of the decline has varied over time. Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating dropped significantly among people who read, but it has remained popular among those who have never heard of it, a steady 73%, which, perhaps is a comment on the veracity of responses given to pollsters who call during broadacasts of "Mad Men."
Survey Methods
Results are based on cell phone interviews with 2.5 national adults (whose phones' batteries, predictably, were about to gasp their last breath at the inception of the interview) . The data from the sample are mushed together, weighted down with heavy stones demographically, and left to dry in the sun for 3 weeks before being released to the public. For results based on the total sample (i.e., 2.5 adults), one can say with 95% confidence that the maximum margin of sampling error is ±99 percentage points. Thus, the data are of virtually no statistical significance. They do, as it turns out, though, make a very fine Cabernet.
In addition to sampling error, question wording and practical difficulties in conducting surveys can introduce error or bias into the findings of public opinion polls. For the reported poll, respondents were asked the following question: "As between getting poked in the eye with a sharp stick and reading Honk if You Like Honking, which would you prefer?"
*
*
PRINCETON, NJ -- After peaking at 59% last November, Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating continues to fluctuate and now stands at 42% with a margin of error of 58 points. That barely exceeds its 40% unfavorable rating (among the Kurds and the football fans billing themselves as "cheesheads [but, sadly, not "curds"]), and is easily its worst evaluation since the 2008 Democratic National Convention when it was shunned by the Democrats, the Republicans, the Socialists, and the Amish, alike.
Honk if You Like Honking's fluctuating popularity is not unique. President Obama's favorable rating (against which Honk if You Like Honking's rating is measured to make Honk if You Like Honking feel like a tiny grasshopper that even a Buddhist monk wouldn't lose any sleep over sitting on) has declined as well, though it has taken a slightly different trajectory than Honk if You Like Honking's. Polls demonstrate consistently, for example, that President Obama's name recognition quotient remains at historically high levels on every continent (plus the fake continent of Australia), whereas Honk if You Like Honking's name recognition quotient barely extends beyond the patio.
Below is a map of the Honk if You Like Honking name recognition quotient:
X [you are here]
These data are based on the latest USA/TodayLichtenstein/Tomorrow/Gallup/Giddeyup poll, conducted by James Levine, music director of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, who evidently doesn't know how to conduct a poll, but probably is good at conducting something -- maybe electricity. Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating has dropped by five or six points each of the last three times Gallup/Giddeyup has updated it, and seems to remain stable when people are left alone.
The source of the decline has varied over time. Honk if You Like Honking's favorable rating dropped significantly among people who read, but it has remained popular among those who have never heard of it, a steady 73%, which, perhaps is a comment on the veracity of responses given to pollsters who call during broadacasts of "Mad Men."
Survey Methods
Results are based on cell phone interviews with 2.5 national adults (whose phones' batteries, predictably, were about to gasp their last breath at the inception of the interview) . The data from the sample are mushed together, weighted down with heavy stones demographically, and left to dry in the sun for 3 weeks before being released to the public. For results based on the total sample (i.e., 2.5 adults), one can say with 95% confidence that the maximum margin of sampling error is ±99 percentage points. Thus, the data are of virtually no statistical significance. They do, as it turns out, though, make a very fine Cabernet.
In addition to sampling error, question wording and practical difficulties in conducting surveys can introduce error or bias into the findings of public opinion polls. For the reported poll, respondents were asked the following question: "As between getting poked in the eye with a sharp stick and reading Honk if You Like Honking, which would you prefer?"
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Something to Read While Waiting for Your Order
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BROTHER DELI
THE COMPLETE STORY ON YOUR PLACEMAT
"I Wish I Had a Knish"
"Free Coffee Refills at No Extra Charge"
'Twas back in 1962
On a day in October when the sky was blue
That Barry settled in this part of the earth
In which good delis there was a dearth
Words were things that Barry did not mince
He said "Who (around here) do you have to scht*p to get a blintz?"
He looked high and he looked low
But for a good nosh he had no place to go
To his wife Rose he said "I know what do to!"
He said it back on that October day when the sky was blue
I'll start a deli of my own
And Rose said: "It will be OUR own"
And so Barry and Rose got down to work
And opened the joint without going beserk
At first it was called Barry and Rose's Deli -- as that was their name.
Soon their delicious meals brought them fame
Especially the kreplach but also the kugel
Rose said: "Barry, nothing rhymes with kugel."
Over the years, out (of Rose) popped 3 boys
They had usual boy things like measles and toys
There was Manny, Max, and Joe and no more
Soon the boys were working in the store.
In 1986 the deli expanded
To Joe the keys Barry handed
Saying "you are the oldest so you take over"
While Rose and I run for cover"
But Rose and Barry while in Boca found
That they could keep an eye on things from the background
Soon Manny brought in the other two, you see
And the deli was run by the Brothers three
In 1987 they changed the name to "Brothers Deli"
Because they were brothers and they ran a deli
For a while, things went along just fine
To get in here, you had to wait on line
Then one day in '96 on the stove some cholent was stewing
Max saw something fishy and said to Max "What are you doing?"
For Max was cooking more than food, don't you know
Books are not for cooking; Max said: "Manny, you will have to go."
Max and Joe were now in charge
For extra cups of coffee they did not charge
And they found this was a recipe for success
Said Max: "Coffee's free here, they can pay to fress."
One day in '04 Max came home and saw
His girlfriend and Joe together in the raw
And after that the writing was on the wall and the shelf
Max would run the place by himself.
It wasn't too hard to remove an S from the name
So "Brothers" Deli became "Brother Deli" --not too lame.
Then,after the TARP-rescued bank called the loan
It looked like there may be no more deli to own
But Brother Deli is still here while the bank has failed
Their greed was their coffin that got nailed
Over the years some things have changed in the store
Nobody orders kishke anymore
And the halvah doesn't move as fast as it used to
But you can still get something free -- fresh brew!
So that's the story of our little restaurant
Where you can get almost anything you want
Rose and Barry have moved to that big deli in the sky
where there is no shortage of cheesecake and apple pie
Manny served a little time and now manages a fund
Now he eats in places where you have to wear a cumerbund
While some relationships can use some tweaking
Max and Joe are no longer speaking
It all began in 1962
Back on that October day when the sky was blue
Brother Deli here to serve, have no fear
Please tip your server, but pay the cashier.
*
*
BROTHER DELI
THE COMPLETE STORY ON YOUR PLACEMAT
"I Wish I Had a Knish"
"Free Coffee Refills at No Extra Charge"
'Twas back in 1962
On a day in October when the sky was blue
That Barry settled in this part of the earth
In which good delis there was a dearth
Words were things that Barry did not mince
He said "Who (around here) do you have to scht*p to get a blintz?"
He looked high and he looked low
But for a good nosh he had no place to go
To his wife Rose he said "I know what do to!"
He said it back on that October day when the sky was blue
I'll start a deli of my own
And Rose said: "It will be OUR own"
And so Barry and Rose got down to work
And opened the joint without going beserk
At first it was called Barry and Rose's Deli -- as that was their name.
Soon their delicious meals brought them fame
Especially the kreplach but also the kugel
Rose said: "Barry, nothing rhymes with kugel."
Over the years, out (of Rose) popped 3 boys
They had usual boy things like measles and toys
There was Manny, Max, and Joe and no more
Soon the boys were working in the store.
In 1986 the deli expanded
To Joe the keys Barry handed
Saying "you are the oldest so you take over"
While Rose and I run for cover"
But Rose and Barry while in Boca found
That they could keep an eye on things from the background
Soon Manny brought in the other two, you see
And the deli was run by the Brothers three
In 1987 they changed the name to "Brothers Deli"
Because they were brothers and they ran a deli
For a while, things went along just fine
To get in here, you had to wait on line
Then one day in '96 on the stove some cholent was stewing
Max saw something fishy and said to Max "What are you doing?"
For Max was cooking more than food, don't you know
Books are not for cooking; Max said: "Manny, you will have to go."
Max and Joe were now in charge
For extra cups of coffee they did not charge
And they found this was a recipe for success
Said Max: "Coffee's free here, they can pay to fress."
One day in '04 Max came home and saw
His girlfriend and Joe together in the raw
And after that the writing was on the wall and the shelf
Max would run the place by himself.
It wasn't too hard to remove an S from the name
So "Brothers" Deli became "Brother Deli" --not too lame.
Then,after the TARP-rescued bank called the loan
It looked like there may be no more deli to own
But Brother Deli is still here while the bank has failed
Their greed was their coffin that got nailed
Over the years some things have changed in the store
Nobody orders kishke anymore
And the halvah doesn't move as fast as it used to
But you can still get something free -- fresh brew!
So that's the story of our little restaurant
Where you can get almost anything you want
Rose and Barry have moved to that big deli in the sky
where there is no shortage of cheesecake and apple pie
Manny served a little time and now manages a fund
Now he eats in places where you have to wear a cumerbund
While some relationships can use some tweaking
Max and Joe are no longer speaking
It all began in 1962
Back on that October day when the sky was blue
Brother Deli here to serve, have no fear
Please tip your server, but pay the cashier.
Monday, January 4, 2010
The (Fairly) Great Courses From Ye Olde Learning Shoppe
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Do you have 30-60 minutes a day to listen to a CD or download of an audio course? Perhaps while chipping paint from a windowsill, or waiting on line at the Registry of Motor Vehicles to clear up that little misunderstanding about switching license plates, or scouring the basement of the hardware store for non-standard sized washers? (This is some life you lead).
Now that you're an adult, wouldn't you like to give the ol' college try to some subject that you avoided assiduously in high school (or, better yet, college, as that would probably make more sense) because, quite frankly, you couldn't be bothered to get to the campus by the ungodly hour of 10:30 in the morning? With Ye Olde Learning Shoppe, you can become an "expert" on anything [in our curriculum] for an investment of just 30 to 60 minutes per day, and, of course, money.
Our "expert" instructors have been carefully cherry-picked from the remaining pool of professors not already hired away by our competitors. We've assembled a group from so many different schools that you'd have to be 119 places at once or rack up quite a few frequent flyer miles to hear them speak in person, unless you attended only one lecture, in which case, you'd miss the other lectures, but conceivably it would be possible, as you clearly couldn't be 119 places at once. Two, maybe, three if you were an identical twin or triplet and you exchanged notes, but two or three is probably the most you'd get away with because if you tried it with more than two or three, other people (i.e., your classmates or a person or persons unnamed who happen to know you) would almost certainly get suspicious, not to mention --how impractical!
Check out some of our new courses for the upcoming semester. If you order within 30 days, we'll discount each course by up to 60% (except for the courses that have already been discounted by 60%, because otherwise, we'd owe you -- and that would never do). Certificates of completion are also available for certain courses, and we're printing new certificates every week. Ye Olde Learning Shoppe has been in business for many months and is licensed in over four counties. Below is a sampling of our latest offerings:
The Human Journey
In this course, we ask the most profound questions: Who are we? Where did we come from? Where are we going? And, most important of all: Are we there yet? When are we going to get there? You said we'd be there by now. When are we going to get there?
Instructor: Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum
The Western Cannon
No, this is not a typo. You can study the Western Canon anywhere, and that's a lot of reading, and who has time for that? Not you. that's why you're listening to audio tapes while driving and missing your exit. This is a course about a very large cannon out Texas way (hence -- "western"). At parties, your friends and other people's friends alike will be astounded and amazed when you say "I studied the entire western cannon in just 30-60 minutes." Hint: Don't pronounce the hyphen as it lessens the impact.
Instructor: Kirk Draw McGraw
Ancient Roman Drinks
Ever hear of Ketel I? What about Courvoisier S.P.Q.R.? Romulus et Rossi? No? We didn't think so. These brands no longer exist. But 2000 years ago when the Eternal City was still eternal, not as eternal as it is now, but still pretty eternal, this is how the smart set imbibed. Not only will you learn the names of all these drinks, but, also, how to mix them and how to order them in a bar -- not that this will do you any good, because no one's heard of these drinks (unless they've taken our course!), but still, it's amusing to see the reaction when you announce: "A side-chariot, barkeep, with a fish sauce chaser!" Too much fun.
Instructor: Toby Inebreate
New Astrological Discoveries
Some of our past students misread the title, assumed this was a course about stars and outer space and planets, etc., and then asked for their money back when they actually heard the lecture. Now all of our courses come with a warning in big bold letters: NO REFUNDS! This is for our protection and yours. But mostly ours.
Instructor: Elvira Newsome, Ph.D.
Odd Numbers
If it weren't for the number 19.99, there would be no infomercials. Thirteen has been proven (mathematically) to be unlucky for analog clocks. And without "approximate 10," there'd likely be no express aisle. These and other oddities are some of the things you will learn in this course about odd numbers. Little or no previous math knowledge required. Regardless, course fee still required.
Instructor: Sarah Bride
Backyard Archeology
What will we find when we dig up your back yard? Rocks? An old plunger? Lots of dead birds? What were you doing back there, anyway? Oh, well, it doesn't matter. There's a whole eco-system right at your fingertips waiting to be discovered, explored, and -- for persons in certain geographical regions -- exploited for enormous profit. Symbiosis, anyone? (Please note: 33.3 % of all revenues derived as a direct and proximate result of backyard excavation automatically become the property of Ye Olde Learning Shoppe and its partners).
Instructor: Carl "Bat" Masterson
Religions of the Suburbs
This course is part anthropology, part religion, and part suburb. It is taught as a companion to the course: "Malls of the Suburbs."
Instructor: The "Reverend" Michelle Johnston
What People Used to Do Before the Internet and Smart Phones
This is our shortest course. For obvious reasons.
Instructor: Tim Jones
Meet Your Instructors
* Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum teaches Driver's Ed. and Repetitive Questions at the Park Slope Adult Learning Annex. He is an expert driver and has driven in all sorts of conditions with little kids and his mother-in-law in the back seat.
* Kirk Draw McGraw is Director of Cannon Studies at Cannon Military Academy in the Texas Hill Country. He speaks softly, but is usually hanging around a big cannon.
* Toby Inebreate is an instructor at numerous bartender schools on the eastern seaboard and on-line. He has published many pamphlets about drinks and snacks.
* Elvira Newsome is a quantum physicist. She discovered three stars and a planet, and has a galaxy named after her. She has been on the faculty at top universities in the United States and Canada and was nominated for a Nobel prize in a very competitive year.
* Sarah Bride has sold over 13 million underarm firmers on television. Numbers are a passion of hers, especially the ones that have dollar signs in front of them.
* Carl "Bat" Masterson is the owner of "Back Yard Derreks" of Oklahoma City and Riyad. He is on probation from the University of East Waziristan.
* The "Reverend" Michelle Johnston officiates as a lay pastor at various unofficial events. She once worked for Bloomingdales.
* Tim Jones teaches hammer dulcimer at the West suburban YMCA. He can sing "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" in three languages and is also an accomplished shadow puppeteer.
*
*
Do you have 30-60 minutes a day to listen to a CD or download of an audio course? Perhaps while chipping paint from a windowsill, or waiting on line at the Registry of Motor Vehicles to clear up that little misunderstanding about switching license plates, or scouring the basement of the hardware store for non-standard sized washers? (This is some life you lead).
Now that you're an adult, wouldn't you like to give the ol' college try to some subject that you avoided assiduously in high school (or, better yet, college, as that would probably make more sense) because, quite frankly, you couldn't be bothered to get to the campus by the ungodly hour of 10:30 in the morning? With Ye Olde Learning Shoppe, you can become an "expert" on anything [in our curriculum] for an investment of just 30 to 60 minutes per day, and, of course, money.
Our "expert" instructors have been carefully cherry-picked from the remaining pool of professors not already hired away by our competitors. We've assembled a group from so many different schools that you'd have to be 119 places at once or rack up quite a few frequent flyer miles to hear them speak in person, unless you attended only one lecture, in which case, you'd miss the other lectures, but conceivably it would be possible, as you clearly couldn't be 119 places at once. Two, maybe, three if you were an identical twin or triplet and you exchanged notes, but two or three is probably the most you'd get away with because if you tried it with more than two or three, other people (i.e., your classmates or a person or persons unnamed who happen to know you) would almost certainly get suspicious, not to mention --how impractical!
Check out some of our new courses for the upcoming semester. If you order within 30 days, we'll discount each course by up to 60% (except for the courses that have already been discounted by 60%, because otherwise, we'd owe you -- and that would never do). Certificates of completion are also available for certain courses, and we're printing new certificates every week. Ye Olde Learning Shoppe has been in business for many months and is licensed in over four counties. Below is a sampling of our latest offerings:
The Human Journey
In this course, we ask the most profound questions: Who are we? Where did we come from? Where are we going? And, most important of all: Are we there yet? When are we going to get there? You said we'd be there by now. When are we going to get there?
Instructor: Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum
The Western Cannon
No, this is not a typo. You can study the Western Canon anywhere, and that's a lot of reading, and who has time for that? Not you. that's why you're listening to audio tapes while driving and missing your exit. This is a course about a very large cannon out Texas way (hence -- "western"). At parties, your friends and other people's friends alike will be astounded and amazed when you say "I studied the entire western cannon in just 30-60 minutes." Hint: Don't pronounce the hyphen as it lessens the impact.
Instructor: Kirk Draw McGraw
Ancient Roman Drinks
Ever hear of Ketel I? What about Courvoisier S.P.Q.R.? Romulus et Rossi? No? We didn't think so. These brands no longer exist. But 2000 years ago when the Eternal City was still eternal, not as eternal as it is now, but still pretty eternal, this is how the smart set imbibed. Not only will you learn the names of all these drinks, but, also, how to mix them and how to order them in a bar -- not that this will do you any good, because no one's heard of these drinks (unless they've taken our course!), but still, it's amusing to see the reaction when you announce: "A side-chariot, barkeep, with a fish sauce chaser!" Too much fun.
Instructor: Toby Inebreate
New Astrological Discoveries
Some of our past students misread the title, assumed this was a course about stars and outer space and planets, etc., and then asked for their money back when they actually heard the lecture. Now all of our courses come with a warning in big bold letters: NO REFUNDS! This is for our protection and yours. But mostly ours.
Instructor: Elvira Newsome, Ph.D.
Odd Numbers
If it weren't for the number 19.99, there would be no infomercials. Thirteen has been proven (mathematically) to be unlucky for analog clocks. And without "approximate 10," there'd likely be no express aisle. These and other oddities are some of the things you will learn in this course about odd numbers. Little or no previous math knowledge required. Regardless, course fee still required.
Instructor: Sarah Bride
Backyard Archeology
What will we find when we dig up your back yard? Rocks? An old plunger? Lots of dead birds? What were you doing back there, anyway? Oh, well, it doesn't matter. There's a whole eco-system right at your fingertips waiting to be discovered, explored, and -- for persons in certain geographical regions -- exploited for enormous profit. Symbiosis, anyone? (Please note: 33.3 % of all revenues derived as a direct and proximate result of backyard excavation automatically become the property of Ye Olde Learning Shoppe and its partners).
Instructor: Carl "Bat" Masterson
Religions of the Suburbs
This course is part anthropology, part religion, and part suburb. It is taught as a companion to the course: "Malls of the Suburbs."
Instructor: The "Reverend" Michelle Johnston
What People Used to Do Before the Internet and Smart Phones
This is our shortest course. For obvious reasons.
Instructor: Tim Jones
Meet Your Instructors
* Pincus "Ming" Mandelbaum teaches Driver's Ed. and Repetitive Questions at the Park Slope Adult Learning Annex. He is an expert driver and has driven in all sorts of conditions with little kids and his mother-in-law in the back seat.
* Kirk Draw McGraw is Director of Cannon Studies at Cannon Military Academy in the Texas Hill Country. He speaks softly, but is usually hanging around a big cannon.
* Toby Inebreate is an instructor at numerous bartender schools on the eastern seaboard and on-line. He has published many pamphlets about drinks and snacks.
* Elvira Newsome is a quantum physicist. She discovered three stars and a planet, and has a galaxy named after her. She has been on the faculty at top universities in the United States and Canada and was nominated for a Nobel prize in a very competitive year.
* Sarah Bride has sold over 13 million underarm firmers on television. Numbers are a passion of hers, especially the ones that have dollar signs in front of them.
* Carl "Bat" Masterson is the owner of "Back Yard Derreks" of Oklahoma City and Riyad. He is on probation from the University of East Waziristan.
* The "Reverend" Michelle Johnston officiates as a lay pastor at various unofficial events. She once worked for Bloomingdales.
* Tim Jones teaches hammer dulcimer at the West suburban YMCA. He can sing "Michael Row Your Boat Ashore" in three languages and is also an accomplished shadow puppeteer.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Recipe: Potatoes Oh My God!
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*
*
For this recipe, you will need:
* A peck of thinly sliced potatoes,
* A bushel of thickly sliced potatoes,
* A hundredweight of chastened potatoes,
* A slug of gunpowder
* A tisket of cumin
* A tasket of smelling salts
* A green and yellow basket
* A skosh of something borrowed
* A pinch of something blue
* A half measure of the finest stone-ground meal
* three ephaphs of the finest oil
* a skin of wine
* a quantity of manna (from Heaven --not from Streits or Goodman's or Manischewitz)
* a she-goat
* A ram caught in the thicket
* A village
* A rabbi, a priest, and an imam walking into a bar
* Four archers straight and true
* 16 ounces of Kraft-brand processed American cheese (shredded).
My mother used to make this recipe when told at the last minute that guests were coming to dinner. She learned it from her mother, who learned it from her mother, who probably stole it from a cooking demonstration at the Magyar Shtetl Konyhafőnök-Express, a famous chain of her day, and purveyor of mortars, little gift bags of paprika, and over-priced pepper mills. At the Konyhafőnök-Express, the help all wore aprons, even though the only thing they were doing was wrapping stuff in boxes with tissue paper.
The dish is said to have originated with the Khazars in the 7th century C.E., but oblique references to it in the "Antiquities Recipes of Josephus" (circa the First Century C.E.) suggest that it is in fact, much older. Schlemmer notes that substitutions almost certainly were made in key ingredients from era to era and region to region. "For one thing, there were no potatoes in Josephus' time, as these are indiginous to the Western Hemisphere, and were not introduced to the Middle East and the Mediterranean regions of Europe until centuries after Josephus' death."
Finkle, on the other hand, has remarked: "Who is Schlemmer? I've never heard of him, and vice versa."
"Be that as it may," says Schlemmer, there were no potatoes."
"But the recipes of Josephus Miller are chock-full of potatoes," says Finkle, particularly his "Best Potato Recipes of Grosse Point, Ever."
"I'm talking about Yosef Ben Matityahu (Joseph, son of Matthias) and, after he became a Roman citizen, -- Titus Flavius Josephus -- apologist of priestly and royal ancestry who survived and recorded the destruction of Jerusalem in CE 70," notes Schlemmer.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh. That Josephus," concludes Finkle.
Charlegmane favored POMG at court. So did Pepin the Short and all the other Pepins. Not that this should matter to anybody, because who cares what Pepin thinks, anyway?
Somebody once told me that they knew of a variation on this theme in a cookbook put out by the Sisterhood of Temple Shalom, Y'all in Charleston, South Carolina. But when I leafed through the yellowed and stained pages of the aging tome, I found only the usual suspects, things like: "Jello Hoo Ha!" and "Crumbled Matzah with Collards;" nothing even remotely resembling the subject of this discussion. When I confronted the friend who gave me that Southern cookbook, she said: "just kidding."
The famous dough-boys of World War I were never introduced to this meal, which is not why they were called dough boys. Ditto, the dough boys of World War II, who, incidentally, were never called "dough boys," although their war was called "World."
We can see from the foregoing that, due to variations in local weather conditions and the vagaries of Trader Joe, ingenuity is the hallmark of this dish, as, indeed it is with all cooking a la casa. But for some things, there is no compromise: if you're going to use manna in a can, instead of from Heaven -- just forget it.
Preparation:
Over the Millennia, the actual instructions have been lost, but they involve digging a large pit, and talking to the potatoes sternly to let them know what's what. The role of the priest, the rabbi, and the imam, is somewhat unclear, but it has something to do with skull caps and garlic.
*
*
For this recipe, you will need:
* A peck of thinly sliced potatoes,
* A bushel of thickly sliced potatoes,
* A hundredweight of chastened potatoes,
* A slug of gunpowder
* A tisket of cumin
* A tasket of smelling salts
* A green and yellow basket
* A skosh of something borrowed
* A pinch of something blue
* A half measure of the finest stone-ground meal
* three ephaphs of the finest oil
* a skin of wine
* a quantity of manna (from Heaven --not from Streits or Goodman's or Manischewitz)
* a she-goat
* A ram caught in the thicket
* A village
* A rabbi, a priest, and an imam walking into a bar
* Four archers straight and true
* 16 ounces of Kraft-brand processed American cheese (shredded).
My mother used to make this recipe when told at the last minute that guests were coming to dinner. She learned it from her mother, who learned it from her mother, who probably stole it from a cooking demonstration at the Magyar Shtetl Konyhafőnök-Express, a famous chain of her day, and purveyor of mortars, little gift bags of paprika, and over-priced pepper mills. At the Konyhafőnök-Express, the help all wore aprons, even though the only thing they were doing was wrapping stuff in boxes with tissue paper.
The dish is said to have originated with the Khazars in the 7th century C.E., but oblique references to it in the "Antiquities Recipes of Josephus" (circa the First Century C.E.) suggest that it is in fact, much older. Schlemmer notes that substitutions almost certainly were made in key ingredients from era to era and region to region. "For one thing, there were no potatoes in Josephus' time, as these are indiginous to the Western Hemisphere, and were not introduced to the Middle East and the Mediterranean regions of Europe until centuries after Josephus' death."
Finkle, on the other hand, has remarked: "Who is Schlemmer? I've never heard of him, and vice versa."
"Be that as it may," says Schlemmer, there were no potatoes."
"But the recipes of Josephus Miller are chock-full of potatoes," says Finkle, particularly his "Best Potato Recipes of Grosse Point, Ever."
"I'm talking about Yosef Ben Matityahu (Joseph, son of Matthias) and, after he became a Roman citizen, -- Titus Flavius Josephus -- apologist of priestly and royal ancestry who survived and recorded the destruction of Jerusalem in CE 70," notes Schlemmer.
"Ohhhhhhhhhh. That Josephus," concludes Finkle.
Charlegmane favored POMG at court. So did Pepin the Short and all the other Pepins. Not that this should matter to anybody, because who cares what Pepin thinks, anyway?
Somebody once told me that they knew of a variation on this theme in a cookbook put out by the Sisterhood of Temple Shalom, Y'all in Charleston, South Carolina. But when I leafed through the yellowed and stained pages of the aging tome, I found only the usual suspects, things like: "Jello Hoo Ha!" and "Crumbled Matzah with Collards;" nothing even remotely resembling the subject of this discussion. When I confronted the friend who gave me that Southern cookbook, she said: "just kidding."
The famous dough-boys of World War I were never introduced to this meal, which is not why they were called dough boys. Ditto, the dough boys of World War II, who, incidentally, were never called "dough boys," although their war was called "World."
We can see from the foregoing that, due to variations in local weather conditions and the vagaries of Trader Joe, ingenuity is the hallmark of this dish, as, indeed it is with all cooking a la casa. But for some things, there is no compromise: if you're going to use manna in a can, instead of from Heaven -- just forget it.
Preparation:
Over the Millennia, the actual instructions have been lost, but they involve digging a large pit, and talking to the potatoes sternly to let them know what's what. The role of the priest, the rabbi, and the imam, is somewhat unclear, but it has something to do with skull caps and garlic.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Websites So Hot, You'll Need an Oven Mit
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*
*
Fresh Step Kitty Litter
http://www.freshstep.com/faq.php
Has an extensive FAQ section and a photo of a kitty looking guilty.
Glad ForceFlex® (garbage bags)
http://www.glad.com/trashbags/forceflex.php?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=glad+garbage+bags&utm_campaign=SEM-NonBrand
Printable $1.00 off coupon (one of the best in the industry) plus "Fun and Games" and a "Media Room."
Roto Rooter
http://www.rotorooter.com/
Testimonials, a newsletter, and so much more! You can choose "Jingle On" or "Jingle Off." When I'm watching my favorite shows, I choose "jingle off," but at other times, I really crank up the volume. I like to play it over and over. "Away go troubles down the drain!" Now available as a dance mix!
Dr. Scholl's® Freeze Away®
http://www.drscholls.com/drscholls/freezeawaygateway/index.jsp?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=wart%2Bremover&utm_campaign=treatments&gclid=CISNi6zR954CFZAN5Qod9mYjZw
The truth: Warts 'n all! (Contains an exciting video!). Look closely at the bottom of the page; here's the payoff: "The graphics depicted herein constitute trademarks of Schering Corporation." You'll never hear a line like that in a Bogart movie, that's for sure!
Ex-Lax
http://www.ex-lax.com/
Let the good times roll! Has an excellent legal disclaimer, a site map, and a guarantee. Sadly, not yet available en Español.
Tide: Find a Stain Solution
http://www.tide.com/en-US/stains/top-stains.jspx?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=stain%2Bremovers&utm_campaign=Category_(Stain)%2BStain%2BTypes%2B&gclid=CODnif3V954CFU1M5Qod1XNWLA
In a creative reworking of the "Ten Plagues" from the the Passover Haggadah, (the Tide® version -- not to be confused with the Maxwell House Coffee version), we learn all about not just blood, but also, sweat, ink, lipstick, dirt, ketchup, salsa, wax, fruit juice, and grass. Cattle disease, vermin, and boils are strangely absent, but, the time honored "poop" is there in all its splendor. Be sure to participate in the survey.
Lipitor
http://www.lipitor.com/about-lipitor/benefits.aspx?source=google&HBX_PK=s_lipitor&HBX_OU=50&o=23127370|166376222|0
In the dark days, before cholesterol was invented, there was a dearth of Internet singsong that reminded us: "Common side effects are diarrhea, upset stomach, muscle and joint pain, and changes in some blood tests." In the annals of artery-flushing, this was one of the first, and it's still among the best. The site includes the random: LPU01292L1 in the bottom right of the home page. It is believed that no other site contains this mysterious combination.
d-Con
http://www.d-conproducts.com/diagnose.html
Talk about Rodents 101! Here, you'll learn all about droppings, footprints, gnawing, rubmarks, unusual pet activity, sounds, and burrows or nests. If the silhouettes of rat shit don't set you up for a pleasant night's sleep, the sounds of mice chewing through the wiring in the walls probably will.
Arm and Hammer
http://www.armhammer.com/
The best thing about this site is the animation of food rotting in the refrigerator replete with rising smell vapors. That's right, you can simultaneously smell AND see the decomposition. Why wasn't this mentioned in "An Inconvenient Truth"? Probably an oversight. Please be sure to visit A&H's User Agreement. And tell 'em I sent you.
The CBO (The Congressional Budget Office)
http://www.cbo.gov/
Who doesn't get all hot and bothered by a dynamic bar graph? But wait, there's more: With features like: "Percentage of Estates That Have Been Taxable, 1943 to 2006," "Correction Regarding the Longer-Term Effects of the Manager's Amendment to the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act," and "An Analysis of the President's Budgetary Proposals for Fiscal Year 2010," you'll never troll the Web for porn again.
524 CMR: Board of Elevator Regulations
http://www.lawlib.state.ma.us/source/mass/cmr/524cmr.html
Nothing will make you long for the Website of the Congressional Budget Office quite like this subdivision of the Code of Massachusetts Regulations. Protective eyeware recommended. Although the CMRs do have a search facility, no amount of finagling will return the result: Lady Gaga.
The Broken Door Stop Blog
http://www.thebrokendoorstopblogspot.biz
Still under construction, but looking forward to the competition. Bring it on.
*
*
Fresh Step Kitty Litter
http://www.freshstep.com/faq.php
Has an extensive FAQ section and a photo of a kitty looking guilty.
Glad ForceFlex® (garbage bags)
http://www.glad.com/trashbags/forceflex.php?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=glad+garbage+bags&utm_campaign=SEM-NonBrand
Printable $1.00 off coupon (one of the best in the industry) plus "Fun and Games" and a "Media Room."
Roto Rooter
http://www.rotorooter.com/
Testimonials, a newsletter, and so much more! You can choose "Jingle On" or "Jingle Off." When I'm watching my favorite shows, I choose "jingle off," but at other times, I really crank up the volume. I like to play it over and over. "Away go troubles down the drain!" Now available as a dance mix!
Dr. Scholl's® Freeze Away®
http://www.drscholls.com/drscholls/freezeawaygateway/index.jsp?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=wart%2Bremover&utm_campaign=treatments&gclid=CISNi6zR954CFZAN5Qod9mYjZw
The truth: Warts 'n all! (Contains an exciting video!). Look closely at the bottom of the page; here's the payoff: "The graphics depicted herein constitute trademarks of Schering Corporation." You'll never hear a line like that in a Bogart movie, that's for sure!
Ex-Lax
http://www.ex-lax.com/
Let the good times roll! Has an excellent legal disclaimer, a site map, and a guarantee. Sadly, not yet available en Español.
Tide: Find a Stain Solution
http://www.tide.com/en-US/stains/top-stains.jspx?utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=stain%2Bremovers&utm_campaign=Category_(Stain)%2BStain%2BTypes%2B&gclid=CODnif3V954CFU1M5Qod1XNWLA
In a creative reworking of the "Ten Plagues" from the the Passover Haggadah, (the Tide® version -- not to be confused with the Maxwell House Coffee version), we learn all about not just blood, but also, sweat, ink, lipstick, dirt, ketchup, salsa, wax, fruit juice, and grass. Cattle disease, vermin, and boils are strangely absent, but, the time honored "poop" is there in all its splendor. Be sure to participate in the survey.
Lipitor
http://www.lipitor.com/about-lipitor/benefits.aspx?source=google&HBX_PK=s_lipitor&HBX_OU=50&o=23127370|166376222|0
In the dark days, before cholesterol was invented, there was a dearth of Internet singsong that reminded us: "Common side effects are diarrhea, upset stomach, muscle and joint pain, and changes in some blood tests." In the annals of artery-flushing, this was one of the first, and it's still among the best. The site includes the random: LPU01292L1 in the bottom right of the home page. It is believed that no other site contains this mysterious combination.
d-Con
http://www.d-conproducts.com/diagnose.html
Talk about Rodents 101! Here, you'll learn all about droppings, footprints, gnawing, rubmarks, unusual pet activity, sounds, and burrows or nests. If the silhouettes of rat shit don't set you up for a pleasant night's sleep, the sounds of mice chewing through the wiring in the walls probably will.
Arm and Hammer
http://www.armhammer.com/
The best thing about this site is the animation of food rotting in the refrigerator replete with rising smell vapors. That's right, you can simultaneously smell AND see the decomposition. Why wasn't this mentioned in "An Inconvenient Truth"? Probably an oversight. Please be sure to visit A&H's User Agreement. And tell 'em I sent you.
The CBO (The Congressional Budget Office)
http://www.cbo.gov/
Who doesn't get all hot and bothered by a dynamic bar graph? But wait, there's more: With features like: "Percentage of Estates That Have Been Taxable, 1943 to 2006," "Correction Regarding the Longer-Term Effects of the Manager's Amendment to the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act," and "An Analysis of the President's Budgetary Proposals for Fiscal Year 2010," you'll never troll the Web for porn again.
524 CMR: Board of Elevator Regulations
http://www.lawlib.state.ma.us/source/mass/cmr/524cmr.html
Nothing will make you long for the Website of the Congressional Budget Office quite like this subdivision of the Code of Massachusetts Regulations. Protective eyeware recommended. Although the CMRs do have a search facility, no amount of finagling will return the result: Lady Gaga.
The Broken Door Stop Blog
http://www.thebrokendoorstopblogspot.biz
Still under construction, but looking forward to the competition. Bring it on.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
MOST NOTABLE MOMENTS OF THE LAST TEN MINUTES
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*
*
Year-end reviews are hackneyed. Thus, a somewhat less ambitious look back:
9:45 P.M.: The Anti-Defamation League telephones for its annual shakedown. I wouldn't have answered the phone, but they bypass my usual screening methods by using a fake caller I.D. The fundraiser laughs off my outrage by guilt-tripping me into a commitment for $180. "Don't worry, we're not going to let you off the hook and we'll always know how to find you," she threatens.
9:46 P.M.: During the time I am distracted by my Herculean efforts to get the A.D.L. off the phone, a pot of chicken soup boils over and short circuits a burner on the stove.
9:47 P.M.: The smoke alarm goes off.
9:49 P.M.: Jamming a burnt chicken bone down the garbage disposal turns out to be a-less-than-optimal method of disposing of it.
9:50 P.M.: Despite 4 cans of food piled up in his dish, the cat won't shut up. I put him out.
9:51 P.M.: The smoke alarm is still going off. In search of a hammer, I pull a drawer all the way out and it crashes to the floor revealing a long-lost and highly-treasured Chinese/Lichtensteinian (but mostly Chinese) take-out menu, and also the hammer. Cutting corners by throwing the hammer at the smoke detector instead of standing on a chair to reach it has a predictable result, but I'm pretty a sure a competent person can repair the dent in the ceiling. The vase, however is a goner.
9:52 P.M.: The cat, who obviously never really wanted to go out, is on the patio peering in with his face pressed pathetically against the sliding glass door. I can't hear him, but I can see his silent desperate meows; he is crying frantically, demanding to be readmitted. I open the door and he starts to enter, but is stunned by the piercing shriek of the smoke alarm. He pauses on the threshhold unable to make up his mind. Because it is freezing, I demand that he make a decision, which he refuses to do, so I nudge him with my foot. Naturally, he isn't quick enough, and I close the door on his tail.
9:53 P.M.: The phone rings. It's the Policeman's Benevolent Association reminding me that the pledge I made 9 months ago remains unfunded. So taken aback by the insulting tone of the recorded message, I almost don't notice that the Policeman's Benevolent Association has also resorted to using a fake caller I.D. The cat breaks free.
9:54 P.M.: I realize that the pounding on the front door and the annoying voice that has been ringing in my ears for the past 5 minutes is not, in fact, a daydream, but is an actual Greenpeace indentured servant hollering about global warming. I squint through the peephole waiting for him to give up. As he turns to leave, he slips on the ice on the front walk, which reminds me that it would have been preferable not to allow the home owner's policy to lapse.
9:55 P.M. The power fails and all the lights go out. As Chet Baker so artfully reminds us to do, I look for the silver lining and find it in the discovery that the smoke alarm has, at long last, stopped going off.
*
*
Year-end reviews are hackneyed. Thus, a somewhat less ambitious look back:
9:45 P.M.: The Anti-Defamation League telephones for its annual shakedown. I wouldn't have answered the phone, but they bypass my usual screening methods by using a fake caller I.D. The fundraiser laughs off my outrage by guilt-tripping me into a commitment for $180. "Don't worry, we're not going to let you off the hook and we'll always know how to find you," she threatens.
9:46 P.M.: During the time I am distracted by my Herculean efforts to get the A.D.L. off the phone, a pot of chicken soup boils over and short circuits a burner on the stove.
9:47 P.M.: The smoke alarm goes off.
9:49 P.M.: Jamming a burnt chicken bone down the garbage disposal turns out to be a-less-than-optimal method of disposing of it.
9:50 P.M.: Despite 4 cans of food piled up in his dish, the cat won't shut up. I put him out.
9:51 P.M.: The smoke alarm is still going off. In search of a hammer, I pull a drawer all the way out and it crashes to the floor revealing a long-lost and highly-treasured Chinese/Lichtensteinian (but mostly Chinese) take-out menu, and also the hammer. Cutting corners by throwing the hammer at the smoke detector instead of standing on a chair to reach it has a predictable result, but I'm pretty a sure a competent person can repair the dent in the ceiling. The vase, however is a goner.
9:52 P.M.: The cat, who obviously never really wanted to go out, is on the patio peering in with his face pressed pathetically against the sliding glass door. I can't hear him, but I can see his silent desperate meows; he is crying frantically, demanding to be readmitted. I open the door and he starts to enter, but is stunned by the piercing shriek of the smoke alarm. He pauses on the threshhold unable to make up his mind. Because it is freezing, I demand that he make a decision, which he refuses to do, so I nudge him with my foot. Naturally, he isn't quick enough, and I close the door on his tail.
9:53 P.M.: The phone rings. It's the Policeman's Benevolent Association reminding me that the pledge I made 9 months ago remains unfunded. So taken aback by the insulting tone of the recorded message, I almost don't notice that the Policeman's Benevolent Association has also resorted to using a fake caller I.D. The cat breaks free.
9:54 P.M.: I realize that the pounding on the front door and the annoying voice that has been ringing in my ears for the past 5 minutes is not, in fact, a daydream, but is an actual Greenpeace indentured servant hollering about global warming. I squint through the peephole waiting for him to give up. As he turns to leave, he slips on the ice on the front walk, which reminds me that it would have been preferable not to allow the home owner's policy to lapse.
9:55 P.M. The power fails and all the lights go out. As Chet Baker so artfully reminds us to do, I look for the silver lining and find it in the discovery that the smoke alarm has, at long last, stopped going off.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The War on Santeria
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Political Correctness? You be the judge. Here are the facts: American retailers increasingly default to the bland and meaningless "Happy Holidays." Why? They don't care about us.
Don't believe it? Try this little experiment. Go to Sears and buy a snowblower. And while they're gift-wrapping it, the first thing they'll say is: "You know, most people don't get snowblowers gift-wrapped because they're too huge and it's incredibly impractical and a waste of paper and kind of taking advantage of our free gift wrap policy." And the second thing they'll say is: "Thank you for shopping at Sears" [After you pay-- not before!]. And the third thing they'll say is: "Happy Holidays." That's it.
Not: "You're the man babalorisha." Not: "You go, you priest of Ifá." Not: "Have a very pleasant Lukumi ritual." None of these. Just "Happy Holidays."
But it's not just Sears. Take Wal-Mart, for example. Go there and buy some rifles and some bullets, and a few hatchets and hunting knives and something to club seals with and a Jonas Brothers CD, and while you're at the checkout counter, after they say: "Having a little party? Ha, ha, ha." They'll say "Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart and Happy Holidays," but not: "Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart, and may you be like the diviners of the Orishas." God forbid!
Or if that doesn't convince you, go to Jos. A Bank and buy one suit and a SECOND ONE FOR HALF PRICE! (Results reproduced at Gentleman's Warehouse proving their scientific validity). And after they say: "The sales price doesn't include alterations which are $75 extra, and it doesn't include these cuff links, which are the only things that go with it ($65), and it doesn't include these suspenders ($25), and it doesn't include these fake Brooks Brothers shopping bags which we sell so that your friends don't think you're so cheap that you get all your suits at Jos. A Bank," they will be certain to say: "Happy Holidays." Try getting them to say: "Go in peace, Father Who Knows the Secrets." But don't hold your breath or you will die.
Not convinced? OK. Go to Valvoline, and after they say: "the next time, you shouldn't drive your car for 13,000 miles on bald tires before you get the oil changed, because that's not good for it," and then after they say: "Do you have any coupons today? No? It's OK to throw out the coupons from Fortune Panda, but the Valvoline coupons are valuable," and then after they say: "Turn the wheel to the right. To the RIGHT! The RIGHT! THE RIGHT!!!Ok, back it up. Whoa! Stop. STOP! STOP! Can't you hear me? OK. Now come forward SLOWLY and turn it to the Right. NO, THAT'S THE LEFT! Ok. There you go. That's it. OK, you're good," and then after they say "Thank you for coming to Valvoline," they'll say Have a nice day and Happy Holidays." They'll never say: "Hope you receive Orunmila soon."
What's this all about? There's only one word for it: C-O-N-S-P-I-R-A-C-Y-T-H-E-O-R-Y-M-O-S-T-L-I-K-E-L-Y.
What's the solution? Fight back. The next time some store clerk wishes you "Happy Holidays," respond with: "Sure thing, Babalu." Atheists hate that.
[Note: No animals were harmed in the creation of this post].
*
*
Political Correctness? You be the judge. Here are the facts: American retailers increasingly default to the bland and meaningless "Happy Holidays." Why? They don't care about us.
Don't believe it? Try this little experiment. Go to Sears and buy a snowblower. And while they're gift-wrapping it, the first thing they'll say is: "You know, most people don't get snowblowers gift-wrapped because they're too huge and it's incredibly impractical and a waste of paper and kind of taking advantage of our free gift wrap policy." And the second thing they'll say is: "Thank you for shopping at Sears" [After you pay-- not before!]. And the third thing they'll say is: "Happy Holidays." That's it.
Not: "You're the man babalorisha." Not: "You go, you priest of Ifá." Not: "Have a very pleasant Lukumi ritual." None of these. Just "Happy Holidays."
But it's not just Sears. Take Wal-Mart, for example. Go there and buy some rifles and some bullets, and a few hatchets and hunting knives and something to club seals with and a Jonas Brothers CD, and while you're at the checkout counter, after they say: "Having a little party? Ha, ha, ha." They'll say "Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart and Happy Holidays," but not: "Thank you for shopping at Wal-Mart, and may you be like the diviners of the Orishas." God forbid!
Or if that doesn't convince you, go to Jos. A Bank and buy one suit and a SECOND ONE FOR HALF PRICE! (Results reproduced at Gentleman's Warehouse proving their scientific validity). And after they say: "The sales price doesn't include alterations which are $75 extra, and it doesn't include these cuff links, which are the only things that go with it ($65), and it doesn't include these suspenders ($25), and it doesn't include these fake Brooks Brothers shopping bags which we sell so that your friends don't think you're so cheap that you get all your suits at Jos. A Bank," they will be certain to say: "Happy Holidays." Try getting them to say: "Go in peace, Father Who Knows the Secrets." But don't hold your breath or you will die.
Not convinced? OK. Go to Valvoline, and after they say: "the next time, you shouldn't drive your car for 13,000 miles on bald tires before you get the oil changed, because that's not good for it," and then after they say: "Do you have any coupons today? No? It's OK to throw out the coupons from Fortune Panda, but the Valvoline coupons are valuable," and then after they say: "Turn the wheel to the right. To the RIGHT! The RIGHT! THE RIGHT!!!Ok, back it up. Whoa! Stop. STOP! STOP! Can't you hear me? OK. Now come forward SLOWLY and turn it to the Right. NO, THAT'S THE LEFT! Ok. There you go. That's it. OK, you're good," and then after they say "Thank you for coming to Valvoline," they'll say Have a nice day and Happy Holidays." They'll never say: "Hope you receive Orunmila soon."
What's this all about? There's only one word for it: C-O-N-S-P-I-R-A-C-Y-T-H-E-O-R-Y-M-O-S-T-L-I-K-E-L-Y.
What's the solution? Fight back. The next time some store clerk wishes you "Happy Holidays," respond with: "Sure thing, Babalu." Atheists hate that.
[Note: No animals were harmed in the creation of this post].
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Breakthrough in the Treatment of ALDD
Roberta E. Illiot, M.D., chief resident of Neurosurgery at NYCCU Lasagna Medical Center, has presented results of the study entitled, "Group A Placebos Out-Perform Groups B, C and RS in Treatment of Adult Logic Deficiency Disorder." The study was designed to analyze the efficacy and safety of certain placebos in a large series of consecutive adults diagnosed with Type A Logic Deficiency Disorder (also known as "Common Sense Disorder").
Dr. Illiott and her colleagues at NYCCU Lasagna Medical Center conducted a retrospective review of 507 consecutive patients with Adult Logic Deficiency Disorder who ingested a total of 772,000 placebos between November 1997 and April 2009. Outcome analysis was performed on 436 patients from a Control Group (Group A), a test group (Group B), another test group (Group C) and a random sample (Group RS) who, thrice daily, ingested placebos composed chiefly of marzipan, M&Ms, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and who had at least one year of follow-up since date of last ingestion. Duration of the Placebo Therapy ranged from one week to 11.35 years, with the patients who lasted for the entire 11.35 years either being incredibly slow to catch on, or (as Dr. Illiot speculates) having become "addicted" to one or two of the key ingredients in the placebo.
The results showed that a more than 50 percent reduction in logic deficiency occurred in 64.6 percent of patients, and 42.1 percent of patients experienced more than a 70 percent reduction in logic deficiency. 79 percent of patients who experienced more than a 70 percent reduction were 87 percent less likely to exhibit characteristics simpatico with 23 per cent of patients who had demonstrated a 73 per cent likelihood of recidivism (i.e., extra-curricular placebo ingestion) in 98 percent of documented cases. Patients who had exhibited a near total blockage of common sense had similar outcomes to those who did not have prior therapy. In a statistically significant number of patients (all), patients who demonstrated a reduction in logic deficiency through rigorous adherence to the placebo dosage exhibited a concomitant weight gain.
Across the board, patients in Group A had strikingly better results than patients in all other groups. This outcome varied 0 percent of the time, despite the fact that each patient received exactly the same placebo under identical conditions for the duration of the study. Dr. Illiot conceded that, in a study devoid of variables, there is no empirical value to segregating patients by group. She concluded, however, that an unintended benefit of the study was that it offered irrefutable proof that persons tapped for medical studies should, where possible, always opt to participate in Group "A."
"Our study, reviewing more than 700 consecutive Placebo Therapy case studies, further confirms the safety and efficacy of placebos for ALDD," said Dr. Illiot. "Patients evaluated in this study varied in age, common sense lapses and treatment histories. The vast majority of patients saw significant improvements in their decision-making ability. One notable exception, of course, was in connection with a common symptom of ALDD known as Line-Shifting Syndrome ("LSS"). Patients suffering ALDD usually exhibit symptoms of LSS at the supermarket or the EZ Pass/Fast Lane tollbooths. The results of LSS-induced decisions prove consistently to be disastrous. Medical science will probably never find a cure for LSS. Otherwise, Placebo Therapy continues to be an effective way to treat ALDD while possibly improving the quality-of-life for patients," said Dr. Illiot.
"Dr. Illiott's study reaffirms the safety, efficacy and quality-of-life benefits of Placebo therapy for ALDD," said Gim E. Moore, president and CEO of Tasty Placebos, LLC (which contributed the placebos to the study). "Worldwide, more than 95,000,000 patients with ALDD have received our placebos, and a significant majority of these patients are consistently opting to continue treatment, which is evidenced by an initial reingestion rate of 98 percent, practically outpacing our ability to keep up with demand. These findings further establish Placebo Therapy as the best option for patients with ALDD who are not candidates for any other type of therapy or who have refused to cooperate with other therapies, such as those approved by insurance companies and the FDA."
Tasty Placebos, LLC provided 100% of the funding for the Placebo Therapy Study, peer reviewed it, and published the findings in major medical journals.
About Tasty Placebos, LLC and Placebo Therapy(®)
Tasty Placebos, LLC (Nasdaq: TPYUMYUM-x) is a medical placebo company with core expertise in M.D. neuromanipulation. The company developed and markets the Placebo Therapy System, which is kid-tested and mother-approved for the treatments of ALDD and treatment-resistant LSS. The Placebo Therapy System delivers a pleasant sensation to the anterior dorsum and into the oropharynx by way of the soft palate, upper esophagus and epiglottis.
Tasty Placebos, LLC markets the Placebo Therapy System in selected vending machines worldwide.
Dr. Illiott and her colleagues at NYCCU Lasagna Medical Center conducted a retrospective review of 507 consecutive patients with Adult Logic Deficiency Disorder who ingested a total of 772,000 placebos between November 1997 and April 2009. Outcome analysis was performed on 436 patients from a Control Group (Group A), a test group (Group B), another test group (Group C) and a random sample (Group RS) who, thrice daily, ingested placebos composed chiefly of marzipan, M&Ms, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and who had at least one year of follow-up since date of last ingestion. Duration of the Placebo Therapy ranged from one week to 11.35 years, with the patients who lasted for the entire 11.35 years either being incredibly slow to catch on, or (as Dr. Illiot speculates) having become "addicted" to one or two of the key ingredients in the placebo.
The results showed that a more than 50 percent reduction in logic deficiency occurred in 64.6 percent of patients, and 42.1 percent of patients experienced more than a 70 percent reduction in logic deficiency. 79 percent of patients who experienced more than a 70 percent reduction were 87 percent less likely to exhibit characteristics simpatico with 23 per cent of patients who had demonstrated a 73 per cent likelihood of recidivism (i.e., extra-curricular placebo ingestion) in 98 percent of documented cases. Patients who had exhibited a near total blockage of common sense had similar outcomes to those who did not have prior therapy. In a statistically significant number of patients (all), patients who demonstrated a reduction in logic deficiency through rigorous adherence to the placebo dosage exhibited a concomitant weight gain.
Across the board, patients in Group A had strikingly better results than patients in all other groups. This outcome varied 0 percent of the time, despite the fact that each patient received exactly the same placebo under identical conditions for the duration of the study. Dr. Illiot conceded that, in a study devoid of variables, there is no empirical value to segregating patients by group. She concluded, however, that an unintended benefit of the study was that it offered irrefutable proof that persons tapped for medical studies should, where possible, always opt to participate in Group "A."
"Our study, reviewing more than 700 consecutive Placebo Therapy case studies, further confirms the safety and efficacy of placebos for ALDD," said Dr. Illiot. "Patients evaluated in this study varied in age, common sense lapses and treatment histories. The vast majority of patients saw significant improvements in their decision-making ability. One notable exception, of course, was in connection with a common symptom of ALDD known as Line-Shifting Syndrome ("LSS"). Patients suffering ALDD usually exhibit symptoms of LSS at the supermarket or the EZ Pass/Fast Lane tollbooths. The results of LSS-induced decisions prove consistently to be disastrous. Medical science will probably never find a cure for LSS. Otherwise, Placebo Therapy continues to be an effective way to treat ALDD while possibly improving the quality-of-life for patients," said Dr. Illiot.
"Dr. Illiott's study reaffirms the safety, efficacy and quality-of-life benefits of Placebo therapy for ALDD," said Gim E. Moore, president and CEO of Tasty Placebos, LLC (which contributed the placebos to the study). "Worldwide, more than 95,000,000 patients with ALDD have received our placebos, and a significant majority of these patients are consistently opting to continue treatment, which is evidenced by an initial reingestion rate of 98 percent, practically outpacing our ability to keep up with demand. These findings further establish Placebo Therapy as the best option for patients with ALDD who are not candidates for any other type of therapy or who have refused to cooperate with other therapies, such as those approved by insurance companies and the FDA."
Tasty Placebos, LLC provided 100% of the funding for the Placebo Therapy Study, peer reviewed it, and published the findings in major medical journals.
About Tasty Placebos, LLC and Placebo Therapy(®)
Tasty Placebos, LLC (Nasdaq: TPYUMYUM-x) is a medical placebo company with core expertise in M.D. neuromanipulation. The company developed and markets the Placebo Therapy System, which is kid-tested and mother-approved for the treatments of ALDD and treatment-resistant LSS. The Placebo Therapy System delivers a pleasant sensation to the anterior dorsum and into the oropharynx by way of the soft palate, upper esophagus and epiglottis.
Tasty Placebos, LLC markets the Placebo Therapy System in selected vending machines worldwide.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Selamat Hari Jadi, Abang
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Once upon a time (in 1969 to be precise), before many of you were born, my older brother was on his way between Syracuse (the one in New York, not the the Greek one on Sicily) and Kuala Lumpur (where my family was living at the time). Mapquest hadn't been invented yet, so he took a wrong turn and ended up in Nepal for a spell. While he was there, he purchased little trinkets for his brothers and sisters (of whom I was one, and still am!) and a little something for himself (Little prayer flags? A Sherpa's cloak? I don't-know-what little pastries? I'm not going to speculate that it was ganja -- I don't even know what ganja is -- or how to spell it -- or what it does -- or anything like that).
For me, he purchased a thin, lightweight little brass calendar. It was made of brass because it had a little wheel with a tiny handle welded onto the front constructed with little cut-outs or windows that the user could turn to advance the names of the months, which were actually hand-painted on the stationary part of the calendar that attached to the back of the wheel. When the wheel moved to a new month, the correct date appeared in the window. And it had a thin little pole in the back that acted as a stand so that the calendar could rest on top of a flat horizontal surface, such as a desk (hence the name: "brass desk calendar which rests upon a flat horizontal surface, such as a desk").
But this was no ordinary calendar. For not only could the user advance the names of the months by turning the wheel, but also the years, because the enumeration of the years -- 40 of them -- were also painted on the stationary part behind the wheel. In this way, the user could have a calendar that lasted from the beginning of 1969 to the end of 2009 in the Gregorian System. And those Nepalese were so ingenious that they calculated the placement of the hand-painted months and years and the alignment of the windows such that the calendar was always accurate -- even in leap years. (Certain months were painted in red for leap years. Can you guess which ones?)
As a lad of 10 (which was my approximate age upon receipt of the calendar), I couldn't conceive of a swath of time as vast as 40 years. Mostly, my concept of time was measured by the distance between meals (and come to think of it, still is). I certainly couldn't believe that anything I would ever own could ever have a use for a span that was four times my then age. The farthest into the future I could see at that time was almost unimaginable age of 20, when I would be a world-famous bell bottom-adorned hippie. Moreover, I couldn't fathom being able to hold on to something for 40 years, let alone 1.
And yet, I held on to it -- through Woodstock and the first Moon landing, the White Album, Watergate, the end of the War in Vietnam, Jaws, the U.S. Bicentennial, the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt, my ever-so-brief stint as a world-famous hippie, the Iranian Revolution, E.T., the fast-paced but kinda fun invasion of Grenada, marriage, two children, enough nieces and nephews to form a political party, or at the very least -- a minyan, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the liberation and election of Nelson Mandela, the fall and rise of Times Square, Operation Desert Storm, Schindler's List, the Y2K hoax, the Euro, (my being recognized as the 1 millionth visitor to any number of websites -- amazing!), the terrorist attacks of 9/11, Operation Enduring Freedom, Riverdance, the improbable Red Sox World Series victories, the supplanting of insta-messaging by texting, the elimination of the possessive apostrophe from most American forms of written English, Aung San Suu Kyi's Nobel peace prize and house arrest, the Sopranos, the Wire, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Mad Men, Rocky VI, Star Wars XVI, same-sex marriage, same-sex divorce, the death of Julia Child, a sighting of J.D. Salinger, the retirement of Castro, the appointment of Castro, the election of Barack Obama, the demise of The Guiding Light, Leonard Cohen's next-to-last World Tour concert (sort of), the elevation of China to the position of World's largest emitter of greenhouse gasses, the Iranian Revolution, and the revision of the Facebook privacy policy.
In just a short while, the calendar will be retired as 2009 comes to a close. And so, Dear Brother, I will hazard a guess that that stash of Nepalese Ganja you purchased 40 long years ago has gotten mighty slim. It's time for you to replenish it by taking another trip to Nepal (not on Eastern or TWA or BOAC or Pan Am, mind you -- for, though the calendar and we are still here, they are not).
And while you're there, would you be so kind as to pick me up another brass desk calendar? One good for another 40 or 50 years or so should do the trick.
Thanks. And Happy Birthday.
P.S. What's for dinner?
*
*
Once upon a time (in 1969 to be precise), before many of you were born, my older brother was on his way between Syracuse (the one in New York, not the the Greek one on Sicily) and Kuala Lumpur (where my family was living at the time). Mapquest hadn't been invented yet, so he took a wrong turn and ended up in Nepal for a spell. While he was there, he purchased little trinkets for his brothers and sisters (of whom I was one, and still am!) and a little something for himself (Little prayer flags? A Sherpa's cloak? I don't-know-what little pastries? I'm not going to speculate that it was ganja -- I don't even know what ganja is -- or how to spell it -- or what it does -- or anything like that).
For me, he purchased a thin, lightweight little brass calendar. It was made of brass because it had a little wheel with a tiny handle welded onto the front constructed with little cut-outs or windows that the user could turn to advance the names of the months, which were actually hand-painted on the stationary part of the calendar that attached to the back of the wheel. When the wheel moved to a new month, the correct date appeared in the window. And it had a thin little pole in the back that acted as a stand so that the calendar could rest on top of a flat horizontal surface, such as a desk (hence the name: "brass desk calendar which rests upon a flat horizontal surface, such as a desk").
But this was no ordinary calendar. For not only could the user advance the names of the months by turning the wheel, but also the years, because the enumeration of the years -- 40 of them -- were also painted on the stationary part behind the wheel. In this way, the user could have a calendar that lasted from the beginning of 1969 to the end of 2009 in the Gregorian System. And those Nepalese were so ingenious that they calculated the placement of the hand-painted months and years and the alignment of the windows such that the calendar was always accurate -- even in leap years. (Certain months were painted in red for leap years. Can you guess which ones?)
As a lad of 10 (which was my approximate age upon receipt of the calendar), I couldn't conceive of a swath of time as vast as 40 years. Mostly, my concept of time was measured by the distance between meals (and come to think of it, still is). I certainly couldn't believe that anything I would ever own could ever have a use for a span that was four times my then age. The farthest into the future I could see at that time was almost unimaginable age of 20, when I would be a world-famous bell bottom-adorned hippie. Moreover, I couldn't fathom being able to hold on to something for 40 years, let alone 1.
And yet, I held on to it -- through Woodstock and the first Moon landing, the White Album, Watergate, the end of the War in Vietnam, Jaws, the U.S. Bicentennial, the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt, my ever-so-brief stint as a world-famous hippie, the Iranian Revolution, E.T., the fast-paced but kinda fun invasion of Grenada, marriage, two children, enough nieces and nephews to form a political party, or at the very least -- a minyan, the fall of the Berlin Wall, the liberation and election of Nelson Mandela, the fall and rise of Times Square, Operation Desert Storm, Schindler's List, the Y2K hoax, the Euro, (my being recognized as the 1 millionth visitor to any number of websites -- amazing!), the terrorist attacks of 9/11, Operation Enduring Freedom, Riverdance, the improbable Red Sox World Series victories, the supplanting of insta-messaging by texting, the elimination of the possessive apostrophe from most American forms of written English, Aung San Suu Kyi's Nobel peace prize and house arrest, the Sopranos, the Wire, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Mad Men, Rocky VI, Star Wars XVI, same-sex marriage, same-sex divorce, the death of Julia Child, a sighting of J.D. Salinger, the retirement of Castro, the appointment of Castro, the election of Barack Obama, the demise of The Guiding Light, Leonard Cohen's next-to-last World Tour concert (sort of), the elevation of China to the position of World's largest emitter of greenhouse gasses, the Iranian Revolution, and the revision of the Facebook privacy policy.
In just a short while, the calendar will be retired as 2009 comes to a close. And so, Dear Brother, I will hazard a guess that that stash of Nepalese Ganja you purchased 40 long years ago has gotten mighty slim. It's time for you to replenish it by taking another trip to Nepal (not on Eastern or TWA or BOAC or Pan Am, mind you -- for, though the calendar and we are still here, they are not).
And while you're there, would you be so kind as to pick me up another brass desk calendar? One good for another 40 or 50 years or so should do the trick.
Thanks. And Happy Birthday.
P.S. What's for dinner?
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Karl Marx's Third Grade Report Card
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Report of Scholastic Record for Year Ending 1824
Grade 3
Trier Public Elementary School
Trier, Kingdom of Prussia
Student: Marx, Karl
___________________________________________
Social Studies: (Mr. Engels)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is a bright little boy who plunges into the subject with gusto and enthusiasm. He is extremely verbose, however, and when asked to give a book report about the Queen of Prussia, instead of making a diorama out of a shoebox like the rest of his classmates, launched into a didactic harangue about how asinine and stupid the bourgeoisie are and how much he wants to hang them by their thumbs and kick them. He is a little disturbed and hypersensitive about ownership. Once, when it came time to clean the slate board erasers, he organized a general strike of the other third graders until the school janitor agreed to open the windows to let a little oxygen into the room (his chief "demand"), and the students were allowed to each claim a pro rata stake in the chalk. For this, he was idolized by some of the more dim-witted boys, which Karl used to maximum advantage in regards seating arrangements and sharing of lunchbox items. Karl is particularly adept at sharing the lunchbox items of others.
Grade: B-
Citizenship: (Mr. Hegel)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is hopelessly lost and is easily distracted by his neighbors in class. He seems bored and listless. I saw no evidence that he grasped the material. I fear he is doomed to repeat it.
Grade: D-
Science: (Mr. Nietzsche)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is a curious young man with prodigious powers of observation. His occasional exuberance is grating, however, and he needs to concentrate on his limitations, discard the mythology of "goodness" that the other teachers sometimes stuff into his head, and accept the random cruelty of the natural order. Then he will make quite a talented young scientist, his deeply flawed demonstration about the sexual habits of chiggers notwithstanding.
Grade: C+
Mathematics: (Mr. Einstein)
Teacher Comments:
Karl has an almost robotic knack for adding two and two and arriving at a sum of five. Although he tackles certain problems with aplomb, including those involving sets and subsets by counting, comparing, ordering, and so on, he is something of a dunce at simple arithmetic. Whilst even at this formative age he has claimed an interest in one day working as a bank teller or as an economist, God help us all should that ever come to pass. I recommend that he consider the Prussian People's Vocational School. One day, I am certain, he will make a very fine bicycle mechanic.
Grade: D
German Language and Literature: (Mr. Goethe)
Master Marx has a passable command of German grammar and syntax. He tends to write in impossibly long run-on sentences, but, then again, so does everybody in Germany.
Grade: B+
Music: (Mr. Bach)
Master Marx is tone deaf, cannot carry a tune, has no sense of melody, harmony, rhythm, or syncopation, cannot read a note to save his life, and cannot name a single composer, German or otherwise. Other than that, he is a brilliant student.
Grade: F
Physical Fitness: (Mr. Wagner)
Master Marx is sickly and pale and somewhat girlish in his approach to boxing -- which does not bode well for his future as a German Übermensch, a graduation requirement of the State curriculum. The scent of pickled herring and chopped liver is often on his breath and herein lies the problem; he is obviously not getting a sufficient German diet of sauerbraten and bratwurst at home. He has little stamina and is almost always picked last for dodge ball. Next term, I plan to toughen him up by taking him to the gym, putting on boxing gloves, and punching him in the head until he is impervious to pain. This will make a man out of him and will also keep the boxing gloves finely honed.
Grade: C
Checklist
Works and plays well with others Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Prepared: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Punctual: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Respectful of Others: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Respectful of School Property: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Ability to Solve problems: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Participates: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Appropriately Groomed: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Overall Grade: D+
Recommended for Advancement to Next Level: Y/N
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Report of Scholastic Record for Year Ending 1824
Grade 3
Trier Public Elementary School
Trier, Kingdom of Prussia
Student: Marx, Karl
___________________________________________
Social Studies: (Mr. Engels)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is a bright little boy who plunges into the subject with gusto and enthusiasm. He is extremely verbose, however, and when asked to give a book report about the Queen of Prussia, instead of making a diorama out of a shoebox like the rest of his classmates, launched into a didactic harangue about how asinine and stupid the bourgeoisie are and how much he wants to hang them by their thumbs and kick them. He is a little disturbed and hypersensitive about ownership. Once, when it came time to clean the slate board erasers, he organized a general strike of the other third graders until the school janitor agreed to open the windows to let a little oxygen into the room (his chief "demand"), and the students were allowed to each claim a pro rata stake in the chalk. For this, he was idolized by some of the more dim-witted boys, which Karl used to maximum advantage in regards seating arrangements and sharing of lunchbox items. Karl is particularly adept at sharing the lunchbox items of others.
Grade: B-
Citizenship: (Mr. Hegel)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is hopelessly lost and is easily distracted by his neighbors in class. He seems bored and listless. I saw no evidence that he grasped the material. I fear he is doomed to repeat it.
Grade: D-
Science: (Mr. Nietzsche)
Teacher Comments:
Karl is a curious young man with prodigious powers of observation. His occasional exuberance is grating, however, and he needs to concentrate on his limitations, discard the mythology of "goodness" that the other teachers sometimes stuff into his head, and accept the random cruelty of the natural order. Then he will make quite a talented young scientist, his deeply flawed demonstration about the sexual habits of chiggers notwithstanding.
Grade: C+
Mathematics: (Mr. Einstein)
Teacher Comments:
Karl has an almost robotic knack for adding two and two and arriving at a sum of five. Although he tackles certain problems with aplomb, including those involving sets and subsets by counting, comparing, ordering, and so on, he is something of a dunce at simple arithmetic. Whilst even at this formative age he has claimed an interest in one day working as a bank teller or as an economist, God help us all should that ever come to pass. I recommend that he consider the Prussian People's Vocational School. One day, I am certain, he will make a very fine bicycle mechanic.
Grade: D
German Language and Literature: (Mr. Goethe)
Master Marx has a passable command of German grammar and syntax. He tends to write in impossibly long run-on sentences, but, then again, so does everybody in Germany.
Grade: B+
Music: (Mr. Bach)
Master Marx is tone deaf, cannot carry a tune, has no sense of melody, harmony, rhythm, or syncopation, cannot read a note to save his life, and cannot name a single composer, German or otherwise. Other than that, he is a brilliant student.
Grade: F
Physical Fitness: (Mr. Wagner)
Master Marx is sickly and pale and somewhat girlish in his approach to boxing -- which does not bode well for his future as a German Übermensch, a graduation requirement of the State curriculum. The scent of pickled herring and chopped liver is often on his breath and herein lies the problem; he is obviously not getting a sufficient German diet of sauerbraten and bratwurst at home. He has little stamina and is almost always picked last for dodge ball. Next term, I plan to toughen him up by taking him to the gym, putting on boxing gloves, and punching him in the head until he is impervious to pain. This will make a man out of him and will also keep the boxing gloves finely honed.
Grade: C
Checklist
Works and plays well with others Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Prepared: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Punctual: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Respectful of Others: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Respectful of School Property: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Ability to Solve problems: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Participates: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Appropriately Groomed: Yes/No/Needs Improvement
Overall Grade: D+
Recommended for Advancement to Next Level: Y/N
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