I am ashamed to say that I recently did something very mean to my cat Mr. Big and my dog Inky.
I know, you're wondering how an animal lover like me could commit an act of animal cruelty to her precious and beloved pets. I am the person who made phone calls to the NFL demanding they sack Michael Vick and called Nike and said I would throw away all my Nike stuff if they didn't boot him . So what would make a person like me do something heinous to an animal?
*Don't freak out I didn't actually abuse my animals*
Here's how good things turn into bad things. I was shopping at a large department store with my good friend April. We were just picking up crap we didn't need and wasting our youth. I wanted to get one of those self watering things for my cats, the kind that has a big bottle on top and water just flows out as needed. Recently I have taken on the duty of caring for a 17 year old cat. Bob is a neighborhood cat that decided he liked the way Teddydigital and I kick it so he moved in. Actually, he was first living with the people who lived in our house before us and when they moved they gave Bob to the neighbor man. Then the neighbor man's girlfriend moved in with her two cats and those cats decided they didn't like Bob so they beat him up until Bob said *eff it* and split. The neighbor lady and the neighbor man both felt bad but since there was nothing they could do about the fact that Bob would not live there, they had to accept it. Personally I love Bob. He has a crazy story and he looks like the crypt keeper. When he was a kitten, a dog attacked him and bit off his tail and most of his ears, hence the name Bob. He's also deaf and a little on the scrawny side and his hair is falling out. But he loves Teddydigital and he loves me and our three dogs and our cat Mr.Big, so I say *the more the crazier*! Anyway, the point is, this neighbor lady said the vet said Bob needs more water and since Bob is a picky- pants, I wanted to make sure he had a clean source to sip from.
As I was picking out the new water system I see the most wonderful and evil thing ever. This is where the animal abuse comes into play; it was something called "The cat hat". It was a little hat meant for your cat. It has an elephant on it and it straps under the chin. So cute, so funny and so cruel. Cats are prideful creatures and an elephant hat that straps under the chin is the last thing they would ever don. But the cat in the picture looked so happy to be wearing it, I decided that Mr.Big would be embarrassed to wear it but Petunia probably wouldn't care. After all she is just a little butterball of cuteness and loves to wear clothes. Not really, but she looks super cute in them.
My intentions were the best, but then when I got home I realized that Petunia's head was too fat for the cat hat. So I looked to Inky. It was risky because Inky is not messing around and has no problem giving me a nip. He's old and grumpy but his head is so tiny and perfect for the cat hat. I was right too. It looked so cute and funny and I laughed and laughed. Inky didn't hate it but I wouldn't say he loved it . He tolerated it and then after I stopped hugging him and laughing he shook it off. I should have stopped there. I should have been happy with seeing it on the dog, but I wasn't. I was like a cat hat junkie. I needed to see it on more animals. I looked for Mr. Big but he was no where to be found. I saw Bob but he's too old for the cat hat and I just couldn't bear to do it to him. I waited until Mr. Big came home for his supper and after he ate and came over to me for some pets, I stuck the cat hat on him. Oh how precious it looked indeed! I carried a pissed off Mr. Big to Teddydigital to show him the cat hat. Mr. Big was laying sort of limp in my arms. That's normal for him. He's really long and lean and I had never known that to be a pre-attack stance before. Teddydigital thought the cat hat was evil and embarrassing and made me take it off Bigs, and as soon as I did, Bigs gave me a bite on the hand. I must have deserved it because he never bites and has a great temperament. But he didn't stop with just a bite. He jumped on a chair and started swiping at Inky who was standing by and then looked at me and tried to swipe me as well. He was enraged at being made to wear that cat hat! I kept trying to say sorry by petting him but he wasn't in the mood to accept my apology. I felt really bad. How could I humiliate my cat like that? He's so good and loving and I betrayed him by making him wear a cat hat. Damn that cat hat!
Let this be a warning: Don't buy the cat hat no matter how cute you think your cat might look in it. Your cat will hate it and you will feel like the worst person ever for making them wear it.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
The tomato bombing.
I need to tell the world what happened in our office today at Tree Huggin' Treats!!!
It was so funny, I'm still laughing. I think I'm going to wet myself. I can't stop laughing.
Ok, I'm composing myself.
So, Leila brought in tomatoes from her backyard last week. Some of the tomatoes were a little soft and then they sat here all weekend. So, come Monday morning, they were just begging to be chucked at someone.
Eric decided to chuck a few of the cherry tomatoes at me early on in the day. So I, in turn, chucked a few back. In the end I had cherry tomatoes all over the back of my shirt and on the walls of my office. Fine.
Later on.....
At lunch time, Eric announced that today was the day he was going to be able to hit the pole out back with one of the tomatoes. For months he has been trying to hit the pole out back with various pieces of rotten fruit. He never makes the shot but he never gives up either. It's a hard shot because it's off the loading dock and the pole is on an angle. But mostly he just has bad aim.
So we go out to the loading dock. Eric had four rotten tomatoes and I'm armed with one extra squishy tomato. While Eric warms up his arm, I warm up mine. While he figures out where to throw, I do likewise. Eric takes a deep breath and lets the first tomato go. He misses. He actually missed the first three and then on the fourth makes contact and the rotten tomato explodes on the pole. We cheer and jump up and down. Now it's my turn, as Eric is jumping up and down, arms raised in a victory dance, I take my shot. Timing is everything and I know once I throw it I have to run. I meant to hit him in the back, but I missed and ended up hitting him in the back of his head! It was glorious!! When the tomato hit, it splatted and stuck to his head before it fell off. His hair was encrusted with seeds and pulp. I swear I saw little stars going around his head and heard birds chirping. He lurched forward and paused as if in denial about the tomato bombing he had just been the victim of. I knew I didn't have much time. I would have to save laughing for later, so I booked out of there.
I fled the scene and ran into the warehouse. I thought he would have the remains of the tomatoes, so I ran to The Fig's desk and ducked behind his chair. The Fig was like " I don't know what you're doing but get away from my desk!" (such a grump).
To my surprise, Eric was not brandishing the remains of the tomato. So I just started laughing and laughing and laughing. And I have been laughing ever since and that was about an hour ago. It was hands down the funniest thing that has ever happened in this office!! I wish I had it on film so I could share it with everyone.
If a person was depressed and on top of a building ready to jump, all you would have to do was show them a video of me beaming Eric in the head with a tomato and they would come down from the ledge. I'm considering going around to mental hospitals and telling depressed people this story. I think I may have just found the cure for depression. All over the world people in hospitals suffering from depression will be given rotten tomatoes to chuck at someone's head. The results will be amazing. This is what they must mean by the food-mood connection.
I know Eric is planning his revenge and I'm sure I will hate whatever it is, but for now I don't even care. I'm just laughing and laughing and laughing. I recommend that everyone throw a rotten tomato at their manager. If you don't have a manager just come over to our office and you can throw one at Eric.
It was so funny, I'm still laughing. I think I'm going to wet myself. I can't stop laughing.
Ok, I'm composing myself.
So, Leila brought in tomatoes from her backyard last week. Some of the tomatoes were a little soft and then they sat here all weekend. So, come Monday morning, they were just begging to be chucked at someone.
Eric decided to chuck a few of the cherry tomatoes at me early on in the day. So I, in turn, chucked a few back. In the end I had cherry tomatoes all over the back of my shirt and on the walls of my office. Fine.
Later on.....
At lunch time, Eric announced that today was the day he was going to be able to hit the pole out back with one of the tomatoes. For months he has been trying to hit the pole out back with various pieces of rotten fruit. He never makes the shot but he never gives up either. It's a hard shot because it's off the loading dock and the pole is on an angle. But mostly he just has bad aim.
So we go out to the loading dock. Eric had four rotten tomatoes and I'm armed with one extra squishy tomato. While Eric warms up his arm, I warm up mine. While he figures out where to throw, I do likewise. Eric takes a deep breath and lets the first tomato go. He misses. He actually missed the first three and then on the fourth makes contact and the rotten tomato explodes on the pole. We cheer and jump up and down. Now it's my turn, as Eric is jumping up and down, arms raised in a victory dance, I take my shot. Timing is everything and I know once I throw it I have to run. I meant to hit him in the back, but I missed and ended up hitting him in the back of his head! It was glorious!! When the tomato hit, it splatted and stuck to his head before it fell off. His hair was encrusted with seeds and pulp. I swear I saw little stars going around his head and heard birds chirping. He lurched forward and paused as if in denial about the tomato bombing he had just been the victim of. I knew I didn't have much time. I would have to save laughing for later, so I booked out of there.
I fled the scene and ran into the warehouse. I thought he would have the remains of the tomatoes, so I ran to The Fig's desk and ducked behind his chair. The Fig was like " I don't know what you're doing but get away from my desk!" (such a grump).
To my surprise, Eric was not brandishing the remains of the tomato. So I just started laughing and laughing and laughing. And I have been laughing ever since and that was about an hour ago. It was hands down the funniest thing that has ever happened in this office!! I wish I had it on film so I could share it with everyone.
If a person was depressed and on top of a building ready to jump, all you would have to do was show them a video of me beaming Eric in the head with a tomato and they would come down from the ledge. I'm considering going around to mental hospitals and telling depressed people this story. I think I may have just found the cure for depression. All over the world people in hospitals suffering from depression will be given rotten tomatoes to chuck at someone's head. The results will be amazing. This is what they must mean by the food-mood connection.
I know Eric is planning his revenge and I'm sure I will hate whatever it is, but for now I don't even care. I'm just laughing and laughing and laughing. I recommend that everyone throw a rotten tomato at their manager. If you don't have a manager just come over to our office and you can throw one at Eric.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Punctuation maffioso
For some reason I thought I already posted something today, but it turns out, I'm just having an early onset of Alzheimer's Disease.
I have a new editor, Julie Schantz. My old editor was Eric, but we had too many creative struggles. For example, he thought things should be spelled correctly and I did not. I'm creative with my punctuation and when it comes to pronouns and prepositions, I think outside the box. Of course this is just a cover for my terrible spelling and bad grammar.
Now Julie edits the posts from home and she is doing a fine job. I can never see the spelling errors or punctuation debacles but I've been told they're gone. She's like a spelling hit man. Maybe even a punctuation mob boss, that is, if grammar is capable of organized crime. I would like to put a hit out on grammar!! Send Tony Saprano over to Spelling's house and have him inform Spelling that now I decided how things are spelled. I guess thats probably not going to happen, so its good that Julie is checking the posts.
Julie is really sick today so all my little spelling snafus and grammar mishaps get to live one more day.
I have a new editor, Julie Schantz. My old editor was Eric, but we had too many creative struggles. For example, he thought things should be spelled correctly and I did not. I'm creative with my punctuation and when it comes to pronouns and prepositions, I think outside the box. Of course this is just a cover for my terrible spelling and bad grammar.
Now Julie edits the posts from home and she is doing a fine job. I can never see the spelling errors or punctuation debacles but I've been told they're gone. She's like a spelling hit man. Maybe even a punctuation mob boss, that is, if grammar is capable of organized crime. I would like to put a hit out on grammar!! Send Tony Saprano over to Spelling's house and have him inform Spelling that now I decided how things are spelled. I guess thats probably not going to happen, so its good that Julie is checking the posts.
Julie is really sick today so all my little spelling snafus and grammar mishaps get to live one more day.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
If beating up my father-in-law is wrong then I don't want to be right.
I think my father-in-law (FIL) wants me to kick his ass. No, I really do think that. You might be wondering why a 65 year old man would want his ass kicked by a spry little elf like me. No, my FIL isn't some weird kinky dude. Get your mind out of the gutter! But he is a man that loves to make jokes. Oh yes he is a jokester to the max. My precious FIL loves to push the proverbial envelope. He is a master of the joke that is borderline inappropriate and that most folks would steer clear of. This is something that we have in common. I also enjoy making jokes that are in poor taste and usually result in someone being mad at me. I should do a *how to* piece on inappropriate jokes. Actually, I think my FIL should do it because he apparently wrote the book on that topic. One of his techniques is remembering events that were traumatic or embarrassing and then reliving them with great verve in front of an audience. I watched him do it and I must say he does have a flair for storytelling. Part of his method is that he laughs hysterically while telling the story and that automatically makes others laugh.
Sometimes he has a one line bomb and in that situation he has a totally different technique.
Instead of being in fits of laughter, practically flopped over to one side, he waits like a lion in the tall grass. I have seen him do this many times so I know it's a specific pattern. Oh he thinks I'm not onto his game but I am! Oh yes I most certainly am Tim Senior!!!
First he waits for the right moment, usually what would be considered bad timing to most.
Then he straightens up and looks at you and with just a hint of a smile he pulls the pin on his joke grenade. Then as you try to run for cover he makes a week attempt to stifle his laughter as he asks "whats wrong?" All the while a guffaw is ready to burst from his lips.
Anyway, I won't repeat his little zinger. Let's just say that it stoked a violent fire in me, hence the pummeling he is about to receive. I give him props for going there, but I think he was feeling brave because he was on the phone with Teddydigital and he didn't have to say it directly to me. The best part is that when I demanded the phone, FIL terminated the call saying he needed to go because he was buying corn.
I will wait. I will be uncharacteristically patient and then I will strike!! Like a cobra, I will strike. I will pounce on him like a weasel pounces on a cobra. Then we will see who is truly the master of the inappropriate joke. With any luck I can convince him to spend Thanksgiving with us and then it will be a fertile battleground for jokes. Speaking of fertile battlegrounds, I've noticed that those with a baby don't have to travel during the holidays. Family members are compelled to travel to wherever the baby is, lest they look like uncaring baby haters. I think I need to speak to Teddydigital about this because the commute to Philly is a bitch.
If you are considering having a baby to avoid holiday travel or you had a baby for that reason, call us! You could be a guest on our show.
Sometimes he has a one line bomb and in that situation he has a totally different technique.
Instead of being in fits of laughter, practically flopped over to one side, he waits like a lion in the tall grass. I have seen him do this many times so I know it's a specific pattern. Oh he thinks I'm not onto his game but I am! Oh yes I most certainly am Tim Senior!!!
First he waits for the right moment, usually what would be considered bad timing to most.
Then he straightens up and looks at you and with just a hint of a smile he pulls the pin on his joke grenade. Then as you try to run for cover he makes a week attempt to stifle his laughter as he asks "whats wrong?" All the while a guffaw is ready to burst from his lips.
Anyway, I won't repeat his little zinger. Let's just say that it stoked a violent fire in me, hence the pummeling he is about to receive. I give him props for going there, but I think he was feeling brave because he was on the phone with Teddydigital and he didn't have to say it directly to me. The best part is that when I demanded the phone, FIL terminated the call saying he needed to go because he was buying corn.
I will wait. I will be uncharacteristically patient and then I will strike!! Like a cobra, I will strike. I will pounce on him like a weasel pounces on a cobra. Then we will see who is truly the master of the inappropriate joke. With any luck I can convince him to spend Thanksgiving with us and then it will be a fertile battleground for jokes. Speaking of fertile battlegrounds, I've noticed that those with a baby don't have to travel during the holidays. Family members are compelled to travel to wherever the baby is, lest they look like uncaring baby haters. I think I need to speak to Teddydigital about this because the commute to Philly is a bitch.
If you are considering having a baby to avoid holiday travel or you had a baby for that reason, call us! You could be a guest on our show.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Tips on being trendy and cool.
I was recently informed that all the popular blogs right now are the ones that do tips and lists.
Now, I have done some *how to* pieces, but the cool thing to blog about is "being green" or "simplifying". I guess that's what all the cool kids are doing, so if I want to sit with them at lunch, I better do one too.
I think the first of my new and improved cool and trendy pieces will be tips on simplifying your life.
There are many ways that your life can be cluttered. Clutter can be possessions or committments or even people. The following are tips on how to make more room in your life for the things that really matter. This guide will help you weed out all the unnecessary and cumbersome people, places and things in your life. Enjoy!
Tip#1 First decide what your priorities are and how you would really like to be spending your time and with whom. Figure out where you really want your money to go; how you really want to spend it.
Tip#2 If your goal is to spend more time with loved ones then you should quit your job and insist that those you love quit theirs as well. If you want more time with your kids yank them out of school. If you want more time with your spouse and less time with your kids, send your kids to boarding school.
Tip#3 Eat locally by showing up to friends' houses around dinner time. This is a great way to save money on groceries and also incorporate spending time with loved ones.
Tip#4 Stop paying all bills. This should not be hard after you quit your job. Don't panic and use your savings on your mortgage or other bills. That money is for you, not the man. Remember, this is all about priorities. The mortgage company has tons of other unenlightened saps sending in there payment every month. They don't need yours. Not to mention it takes months to foreclose on a house and even longer to evict someone. As far as utilities go, you have at least 2 months before they shut off your power.
Tip#5 Cars are a huge burden both financially and environmentally. Not to mention the emotional energy that people invest in them. It might be hard to part with your car, so drive it to a part of town that is notorious for being infested with crack heads and leave the car running and doors unlocked while you run an errand. It's a win-win situation. You no longer have to deal with a car and you've helped the needy. You're already becoming a better person.
Tip#6 Get rid of your cell phone. Use pay phones and only make collect calls. If this upsets people just explain to them that you're trying to simplify your life. If they can't get on board and support you then that is a clear indicator that you don't need them cluttering up your life anyway.
Tip#7 Instead of buying clothes or new things ask friends if you can "borrow" something and then just neglect to return it. When they ask for it back tell them that the rule is if you don't use something for 1 year then you should give it away. This is logic that can't be argued.
Tip#8 Start shopping from lost and found boxes. It's best to go where people with style frequent.
Just walk in and say you think you may have left your (fill in item you wish to procure) and ask to be directed to the lost and found. Don't be too specific. For example, don't say you lost your diamond tennis bracelet that your 3rd husband gave you on a trip to Bermuda. Then you won't be able to snag other stuff if there isn't a diamond tennis bracelet in the lost and found.
Be very vague. For example, you could say you may have left your hoodie or your sunglasses or your diabetes testing supplies.
Good luck, I know you can do it!!!
Now, I have done some *how to* pieces, but the cool thing to blog about is "being green" or "simplifying". I guess that's what all the cool kids are doing, so if I want to sit with them at lunch, I better do one too.
I think the first of my new and improved cool and trendy pieces will be tips on simplifying your life.
There are many ways that your life can be cluttered. Clutter can be possessions or committments or even people. The following are tips on how to make more room in your life for the things that really matter. This guide will help you weed out all the unnecessary and cumbersome people, places and things in your life. Enjoy!
Tip#1 First decide what your priorities are and how you would really like to be spending your time and with whom. Figure out where you really want your money to go; how you really want to spend it.
Tip#2 If your goal is to spend more time with loved ones then you should quit your job and insist that those you love quit theirs as well. If you want more time with your kids yank them out of school. If you want more time with your spouse and less time with your kids, send your kids to boarding school.
Tip#3 Eat locally by showing up to friends' houses around dinner time. This is a great way to save money on groceries and also incorporate spending time with loved ones.
Tip#4 Stop paying all bills. This should not be hard after you quit your job. Don't panic and use your savings on your mortgage or other bills. That money is for you, not the man. Remember, this is all about priorities. The mortgage company has tons of other unenlightened saps sending in there payment every month. They don't need yours. Not to mention it takes months to foreclose on a house and even longer to evict someone. As far as utilities go, you have at least 2 months before they shut off your power.
Tip#5 Cars are a huge burden both financially and environmentally. Not to mention the emotional energy that people invest in them. It might be hard to part with your car, so drive it to a part of town that is notorious for being infested with crack heads and leave the car running and doors unlocked while you run an errand. It's a win-win situation. You no longer have to deal with a car and you've helped the needy. You're already becoming a better person.
Tip#6 Get rid of your cell phone. Use pay phones and only make collect calls. If this upsets people just explain to them that you're trying to simplify your life. If they can't get on board and support you then that is a clear indicator that you don't need them cluttering up your life anyway.
Tip#7 Instead of buying clothes or new things ask friends if you can "borrow" something and then just neglect to return it. When they ask for it back tell them that the rule is if you don't use something for 1 year then you should give it away. This is logic that can't be argued.
Tip#8 Start shopping from lost and found boxes. It's best to go where people with style frequent.
Just walk in and say you think you may have left your (fill in item you wish to procure) and ask to be directed to the lost and found. Don't be too specific. For example, don't say you lost your diamond tennis bracelet that your 3rd husband gave you on a trip to Bermuda. Then you won't be able to snag other stuff if there isn't a diamond tennis bracelet in the lost and found.
Be very vague. For example, you could say you may have left your hoodie or your sunglasses or your diabetes testing supplies.
Good luck, I know you can do it!!!
Monday, July 23, 2007
I love you!
Is there anyone out there who wants to buy me a laptop?
Seriously, I need one. I would prefer a Mac Book but I would graciously accept any offering. I think the only reason I want a Mac so bad is because they look so snappy and because Carrie Bradshaw had one on Sex in the City. Maybe if I had a Mac Book, I would become a famous writer and have a cute, rent controlled apartment on the upper west side and spend my days shopping and waxing poetic about boys and shoes. Maybe not. Would the dog poop magically disappear from my backyard if I had a Mac Book? I think so.
All during August I am going to be traveling a ton and so I might not be able to post for all my devoted fans. I just think if you love my blog, and I know you do because I get loads of fan mail, you would want to get me a lap top. Well, just think about it. Mull it over. Perhaps sleep on it or ask a trusted friend what they think.
Studies show that doing something nice for others releases seratonin in the brain.
So, if your brain needs a boost or your karma is sucky, just march yourself down to the store and pick up a Mac Book for me. 'Cause you know I would do it for you if you asked. Well, maybe not, but be the bigger person. Be mature and don't be so tight with your money. Thanks in advance.
You're the best.
Seriously, I need one. I would prefer a Mac Book but I would graciously accept any offering. I think the only reason I want a Mac so bad is because they look so snappy and because Carrie Bradshaw had one on Sex in the City. Maybe if I had a Mac Book, I would become a famous writer and have a cute, rent controlled apartment on the upper west side and spend my days shopping and waxing poetic about boys and shoes. Maybe not. Would the dog poop magically disappear from my backyard if I had a Mac Book? I think so.
All during August I am going to be traveling a ton and so I might not be able to post for all my devoted fans. I just think if you love my blog, and I know you do because I get loads of fan mail, you would want to get me a lap top. Well, just think about it. Mull it over. Perhaps sleep on it or ask a trusted friend what they think.
Studies show that doing something nice for others releases seratonin in the brain.
So, if your brain needs a boost or your karma is sucky, just march yourself down to the store and pick up a Mac Book for me. 'Cause you know I would do it for you if you asked. Well, maybe not, but be the bigger person. Be mature and don't be so tight with your money. Thanks in advance.
You're the best.
Friday, July 20, 2007
We wanted to call em' lifesavers but the name was taken.
Since this is technically the Tree Huggin' Treats' blog I think once in a while it would be appropriate to take a break from my stories and bring you some Crispy Cat info.
So you might be like oh that sucks I was looking forward to wetting my pants again but I think it would be a travesty not to school you in all the ways a Crispy Cat can be utilized in your daily life. I mean really, I know learning is out this season but it must be done.
How to use Crispy Cats to get yourself out of a pickle.
It's pretty basic. If someone is mad at you just hand them a Crispy Cat that you wrote *I'm sorry* on the back of. Works like a charm.
If a cop pulls you over, don't panic. Just hand him a Crispy Cat and wink instead of handing him your license and registration. This works about 2% of the time, so be prepared to hit the gas and book out of there Dukes-of-Hazard style.
If you are rude in Hebrew school or talk during temple, simply give your Rabbi a few Crispy Cats after your Mom stops yelling at you. Crispy Cats are kosher, making them the perfect gift for your favorite Rabbi. If you were really bad then you may have to recite something from the Torah. That's your call.
Let's say you accidentally slip and mention how much you love J-lo's new album in front of someone from P.E.T.A. Don't wait until you're drenched in paint. Just hand them a totally vegan Crispy Cat. Seriously, J-Lo needs to stop with all the fur. If you love her new album, you need paint thrown on you. You've got problems.
Let's say you are going on a date and the person you are going out with has Celiac's Disease. Why not make a bouquet out of Crispy Cats to give her? Flowers are expensive and then they die and rot, but Crispy Cats are totally yummy and won't rot at all! Not to mention they say hey I'm a good listener and I care about your health. Aren't I sensitive?
I hope those pointers are helpful. Try to study and memorize them. I won't be around to help you out so you better hop to it.
So you might be like oh that sucks I was looking forward to wetting my pants again but I think it would be a travesty not to school you in all the ways a Crispy Cat can be utilized in your daily life. I mean really, I know learning is out this season but it must be done.
How to use Crispy Cats to get yourself out of a pickle.
It's pretty basic. If someone is mad at you just hand them a Crispy Cat that you wrote *I'm sorry* on the back of. Works like a charm.
If a cop pulls you over, don't panic. Just hand him a Crispy Cat and wink instead of handing him your license and registration. This works about 2% of the time, so be prepared to hit the gas and book out of there Dukes-of-Hazard style.
If you are rude in Hebrew school or talk during temple, simply give your Rabbi a few Crispy Cats after your Mom stops yelling at you. Crispy Cats are kosher, making them the perfect gift for your favorite Rabbi. If you were really bad then you may have to recite something from the Torah. That's your call.
Let's say you accidentally slip and mention how much you love J-lo's new album in front of someone from P.E.T.A. Don't wait until you're drenched in paint. Just hand them a totally vegan Crispy Cat. Seriously, J-Lo needs to stop with all the fur. If you love her new album, you need paint thrown on you. You've got problems.
Let's say you are going on a date and the person you are going out with has Celiac's Disease. Why not make a bouquet out of Crispy Cats to give her? Flowers are expensive and then they die and rot, but Crispy Cats are totally yummy and won't rot at all! Not to mention they say hey I'm a good listener and I care about your health. Aren't I sensitive?
I hope those pointers are helpful. Try to study and memorize them. I won't be around to help you out so you better hop to it.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Obsession confessions
Obsessions are a part of everyone's life. Right? OK, obsessions are a part of my life.
It's fun to look back on some of my old obsessions and laugh about how silly they are. For example, several years ago I was at work walking down the hall. I see a fellow colleague and he waves. In an attempt for him to see my reciprocated wave(because I was far away) I shot my hand in the air and keep it there as I walked. Then I had a horrible thought . What if he thought I was doing a Nazi salute and he thought I was a neo-Nazi. The thought plagued me all day and after work I stopped by my mother's house to show her the wave and see what she thought. My mother has years of experience with my neurotic questions and so she is not freaked out by me asking her if my wave looks like a Nazi salute. To some it would be a bizarre question and cause for alarm, but for my mom it's the norm. Just as some women when they were young perhaps turned to their mothers and asked about boys or bras, I asked my mother if she thought I had AIDS. The conversation would go something like this.
"Mom, do you think I have AIDS?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"But how do you know?"
"I guess I don't know. Do you think you've done something to catch it?"
(I have a few moments of internal chaos)
"Well, I had an AIDS test and it said I didn't have it."
"Then you don't have it."
"Yes, but it can hide out in your body for a long time."
"Oh Ann, really, just stop you don't have AIDS"
"If I do, then I guess I will have to just tour around going to high schools doing lectures and stuff maybe right a book about it. I can buy a camper."
"That sounds nice. Looks like you have a good plan."
"So are you saying you think I have AIDS?"
Anyway I reviewed the wave with my mother and asked her what it looked like to her. She thought it looked like I was trying to hail a cab or catch the bus. She definitely didn't think it looked like I was giving a Nazi salute. The conversation went like this.
"OK. what does this look like." (I replicated the wave)
"Um, like your hailing a cab."
"Do you think it looks like a Nazi salute?"
"No."
"Are you sure because I waved like that to someone at work and now I'm worried that he thinks I'm a Nazi."
"Oh Ann, really! I'm sure no one who knows you would think that."
"So are you saying a person who doesn't know me might think that I was giving a Nazi salute if they saw that wave?"
"That's enough."
"OK. Do you think I have AIDS?"
Now that I think about it I think my mother should get some sort of award.
I think I will give her the Crispy Cat award. The world's first organic Award. Not to mention the only award that is vegan, kosher and gluten-free. ( They made me write that)
It's fun to look back on some of my old obsessions and laugh about how silly they are. For example, several years ago I was at work walking down the hall. I see a fellow colleague and he waves. In an attempt for him to see my reciprocated wave(because I was far away) I shot my hand in the air and keep it there as I walked. Then I had a horrible thought . What if he thought I was doing a Nazi salute and he thought I was a neo-Nazi. The thought plagued me all day and after work I stopped by my mother's house to show her the wave and see what she thought. My mother has years of experience with my neurotic questions and so she is not freaked out by me asking her if my wave looks like a Nazi salute. To some it would be a bizarre question and cause for alarm, but for my mom it's the norm. Just as some women when they were young perhaps turned to their mothers and asked about boys or bras, I asked my mother if she thought I had AIDS. The conversation would go something like this.
"Mom, do you think I have AIDS?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"But how do you know?"
"I guess I don't know. Do you think you've done something to catch it?"
(I have a few moments of internal chaos)
"Well, I had an AIDS test and it said I didn't have it."
"Then you don't have it."
"Yes, but it can hide out in your body for a long time."
"Oh Ann, really, just stop you don't have AIDS"
"If I do, then I guess I will have to just tour around going to high schools doing lectures and stuff maybe right a book about it. I can buy a camper."
"That sounds nice. Looks like you have a good plan."
"So are you saying you think I have AIDS?"
Anyway I reviewed the wave with my mother and asked her what it looked like to her. She thought it looked like I was trying to hail a cab or catch the bus. She definitely didn't think it looked like I was giving a Nazi salute. The conversation went like this.
"OK. what does this look like." (I replicated the wave)
"Um, like your hailing a cab."
"Do you think it looks like a Nazi salute?"
"No."
"Are you sure because I waved like that to someone at work and now I'm worried that he thinks I'm a Nazi."
"Oh Ann, really! I'm sure no one who knows you would think that."
"So are you saying a person who doesn't know me might think that I was giving a Nazi salute if they saw that wave?"
"That's enough."
"OK. Do you think I have AIDS?"
Now that I think about it I think my mother should get some sort of award.
I think I will give her the Crispy Cat award. The world's first organic Award. Not to mention the only award that is vegan, kosher and gluten-free. ( They made me write that)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
You're a mean one Mr.Vick
I have been deeply disturbed over the Michael Vick dog fighting situation. I don't want to spread more sadness but with all the new info coming out about his evil and unspeakable acts I felt a poem was in order. In honor of all the dogs that died at his hands lets all donate either our time or supplies to our local animal shelters.
Michael Vick you are a dick
The people voted
and it's official
we want to send you to Iraq strapped to a missile.
Don't worry we would never do it
the people of Iraq have enough to worry about
If I had to choose between Michael Vick and Charles Manson
who would I choose?
Charles Manson, yes Mr. Manson is more appealing
I would rather have a slumber party with Charles Manson
and the Zodiac killer
and Ted Bundy
than spend 5 minutes with Michael Dick
Dogs give unconditional love
they are devoted friends
they don't desert you in times of need
they are better than people in that respect.
It takes a special person to stay with you during hard times
but to a dog
it's no big deal.
They always stay the course
and you don't have to pay them
or buy them cars
or houses
dogs don't care about bling
everyone knows that
I wonder if Mr. Vick has anyone in his life
who will be standing by his side
when he is no longer a big shot football player?
When the NFL disposes of him like trash
and he can't find work
because it is widely known he is a sociopath.
Maybe then he will see how fickle humans are
and how the heart of a dog is precious and loyal
always steady
always your number 1 fan
The wonderful thing about the universe
is the indisputable fact that no one
not even over paid athletes
can escape karma
I think instead of jail
they should toss Mr. Vick into the Georgia Dome
with 3 or 4 grumpy lions
Perhaps it would be more painful
to make Mr.Vick donate all his money
and cars
and houses
and bling
to a pit bull rescue league
and then make him clean kennels
with supervision at all the animal shelters across the country
what else will he have to do when he gets out of prison?
I'm praying for your vile soul.
Cause your gonna need it
According to the news
Saddam Hussein is more likable than you.
Michael Vick you are a dick
The people voted
and it's official
we want to send you to Iraq strapped to a missile.
Don't worry we would never do it
the people of Iraq have enough to worry about
If I had to choose between Michael Vick and Charles Manson
who would I choose?
Charles Manson, yes Mr. Manson is more appealing
I would rather have a slumber party with Charles Manson
and the Zodiac killer
and Ted Bundy
than spend 5 minutes with Michael Dick
Dogs give unconditional love
they are devoted friends
they don't desert you in times of need
they are better than people in that respect.
It takes a special person to stay with you during hard times
but to a dog
it's no big deal.
They always stay the course
and you don't have to pay them
or buy them cars
or houses
dogs don't care about bling
everyone knows that
I wonder if Mr. Vick has anyone in his life
who will be standing by his side
when he is no longer a big shot football player?
When the NFL disposes of him like trash
and he can't find work
because it is widely known he is a sociopath.
Maybe then he will see how fickle humans are
and how the heart of a dog is precious and loyal
always steady
always your number 1 fan
The wonderful thing about the universe
is the indisputable fact that no one
not even over paid athletes
can escape karma
I think instead of jail
they should toss Mr. Vick into the Georgia Dome
with 3 or 4 grumpy lions
Perhaps it would be more painful
to make Mr.Vick donate all his money
and cars
and houses
and bling
to a pit bull rescue league
and then make him clean kennels
with supervision at all the animal shelters across the country
what else will he have to do when he gets out of prison?
I'm praying for your vile soul.
Cause your gonna need it
According to the news
Saddam Hussein is more likable than you.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Is Crispy Cat Once-A-Day XR right for you?
No one wants to talk about it.
It's too sensitive and you don't want to look like the bad guy.
But that nagging feeling won't go away, you know something is wrong.
Now is the time to do something about it.
Selling out and becoming corporate affects millions of Americans everyday. You're not alone, it's not your fault, there is help.
Corporatitis is a medical condition that is treatable but in order to heal you must recognize there is a problem. The following is a list of signs and symptoms of corporateitis
Now with Crispy Cat Once-a -day XR you too can over come corporateitis. and regain control of your life.
Who does corporateitis affect? Everyone.
Where does corporateitis hurt? Everywhere
Signs and Symptoms of Corporateitis
It's too sensitive and you don't want to look like the bad guy.
But that nagging feeling won't go away, you know something is wrong.
Now is the time to do something about it.
Selling out and becoming corporate affects millions of Americans everyday. You're not alone, it's not your fault, there is help.
Corporatitis is a medical condition that is treatable but in order to heal you must recognize there is a problem. The following is a list of signs and symptoms of corporateitis
Now with Crispy Cat Once-a -day XR you too can over come corporateitis. and regain control of your life.
Who does corporateitis affect? Everyone.
Where does corporateitis hurt? Everywhere
Signs and Symptoms of Corporateitis
- Sudden changes in dress attire.
- Loss of interest in having fun or laughing
- Wanting to purchase a BMW or get hair plugs
- Loss of facial expression and absence of sense of humor.
- Watching Fox news
- Talking to self in public and then playing it off like it's a bluechip ear piece
- Sudden loss of personality due to android or robotic implant.
- Talk of "doing lunch" or having imagery people. e.g. "I'll have my people call your people"
- Increased or frequent urination or sudden bowel changes. Constipation may arise from having a stick up the butt.
- Changes in sleeping habits e.g. sleeping with your secretary
- Frequent or reoccurring thoughts of stocks, bonds and shareholders.
- Marionette strings on the back of hands and on top of feet.
The following statements are signs of early onset type 2 corporatitis
"Time is money"
"Heads are gonna roll"
"I have a wife and kids?"
" I don't care if they are nuns, lets sue their asses!"
"I would rather live beyond my means and drown in debt then look like a nobody. Everyone knows that having stuff and looking good is what really matters."
Early detection is best but it's never too late.
Contact your local Tree Huggin' Treats representative or health care provider to see if Crispy Cat Once-a-day XR is right for you.
Monday, July 16, 2007
One more reason not to wear a ski mask.
Before I was in the candy bar scene I was in other scenes. Before the world of the world's first organic candy bar there were other worlds in which I orbited around. This is a story that happened in one of those other worlds I mentioned. It was at the tail end of 1994. Let this be a warning to all you kids who think it's cool to wear a ski mask in the middle of the night at a gas station with a bunch of hippies and 1 punk rocker!
I was going home to NY for Christmas break during my first year of college. I was a technically a student at Antioch college in Ohio. I say technically because my parents were paying tuition and I lived in the dorms but I think you have to actually attend classes to be a student. None the less I was an active member of campus life, active meaning I attended many student gatherings and by student gatherings I mean parties. Lets move on, this is a blog not a epic novel so I can't make this to long.
Long story short this guy named Gerry who was a major MAJOR hippie had this "van" and by van I mean it was boxy and had 4 wheels but that's where the similarities end. What the van lacked in seat belts, seats and passenger windows it made up for in colorfull sayings that were written all over the inside. Sayings like " See cops throw rocks" and " Here piggy, piggy want a donut" and other little gems that referenced illegal drug use and blatant hatred for the man.
Needless to say when Gerry said he could give me a ride home I was delighted. He lived in Jersey and was dropping off a bunch of people along the way. I can't remember all the people who went with us except for 2 girls and this kid everyone called punk rock Mike. So there we were in this "van" sitting on blankets just making our way home. There was no radio so we talked to pass the time. How old school right? Talking to people and having real conversation instead of being hooked up to an i-pod or having convos with strangers on the Internet? Totally crazy.
Some where in Pennsylvania or Ohio the "van" starts acting up and bad smells begin invading the vehicle, which is totally bad news because the van didn't smell to great to begin with. We get off at the next exit and pull into a gas station. We discover that the van is messed up but have no idea how to fix it. Now, this is before everyone had cell phones so we had to find a pay phone. The pay phone at the gas station was broken but there was a restaurant down below. The gas station was at the top of a hill and if you walked down a steep grassy death slope it would take you right to the restaurant. So we all trot down the death slope and go to the restaurant but they won't let us use the phone so while Gerry tried to get the hostess to let him use the phone punk rock mike and I decided to go back up the hill and wait in the van. Punk rock Mike was about 6 2" and long and lanky and he worked pretty hard to make himself look menacing. I guess at some point his head felt a little chilly so he pulled a ski mask out of the pocket of his cheesy leather jacket that was all the rage back then,and pulled it over his head and face.
We go back and sit in the van. About 15 min's later I hear the click of guns being cocked and the police are shouting for us to get out of the vehicle. By this time Gerry and the hippie girls were back.
We slide open the door to be greeted by guns in the face. The police told me to put my hands on top of the vehicle and I had a moment of panic because I was to short to reach. I shouted " DON"T SHOOT !! I'M TOO SHORT!!" last I checked it wasn't a crime to be petite, at least not in NY. But I wasn't in NY, no sir, I was in PA and apparently in PA petite is synonymous with "person who likes to rob gas stations".
The gas station attendants saw ole' punk rock and I coming up the hill and figured that the only reason a person would commit such a fashion don't like wearing a ski mask was if they were intending to rob something. So they called the cops hence the gun in my face. The cops took one look at Gerry with his crazy beard and Charles Manson eyes and proceeded to search the van. I watched as they read all the little tid bits of angst scribbled all over that some stupid anarchists or socialist or whoever thought was witty. I cursed those anarchists and socialist and whoever as I imaged myself doing 10-20 in the state pen, probably in solitary confinement, emerging after many long years to find myself a twisted, bitter old woman. Damn them! How dare they steal my youth!
The cops didn't find anything and after we explained we were just having car trouble and that punk rock Mike had a head that was prone to catching a chill, they ran our licences and let us go.
But we couldn't go because the van was still broken.
What happens next? I bet you wanna know , right.
Well, I can't tell you today because I have work to do here in candy bar land. This blogs not the only thing I do you know. The Fig and I are doing a Crispy Cat zine so keep your peepers open for that.
It's lunch time I gotta go.
I was going home to NY for Christmas break during my first year of college. I was a technically a student at Antioch college in Ohio. I say technically because my parents were paying tuition and I lived in the dorms but I think you have to actually attend classes to be a student. None the less I was an active member of campus life, active meaning I attended many student gatherings and by student gatherings I mean parties. Lets move on, this is a blog not a epic novel so I can't make this to long.
Long story short this guy named Gerry who was a major MAJOR hippie had this "van" and by van I mean it was boxy and had 4 wheels but that's where the similarities end. What the van lacked in seat belts, seats and passenger windows it made up for in colorfull sayings that were written all over the inside. Sayings like " See cops throw rocks" and " Here piggy, piggy want a donut" and other little gems that referenced illegal drug use and blatant hatred for the man.
Needless to say when Gerry said he could give me a ride home I was delighted. He lived in Jersey and was dropping off a bunch of people along the way. I can't remember all the people who went with us except for 2 girls and this kid everyone called punk rock Mike. So there we were in this "van" sitting on blankets just making our way home. There was no radio so we talked to pass the time. How old school right? Talking to people and having real conversation instead of being hooked up to an i-pod or having convos with strangers on the Internet? Totally crazy.
Some where in Pennsylvania or Ohio the "van" starts acting up and bad smells begin invading the vehicle, which is totally bad news because the van didn't smell to great to begin with. We get off at the next exit and pull into a gas station. We discover that the van is messed up but have no idea how to fix it. Now, this is before everyone had cell phones so we had to find a pay phone. The pay phone at the gas station was broken but there was a restaurant down below. The gas station was at the top of a hill and if you walked down a steep grassy death slope it would take you right to the restaurant. So we all trot down the death slope and go to the restaurant but they won't let us use the phone so while Gerry tried to get the hostess to let him use the phone punk rock mike and I decided to go back up the hill and wait in the van. Punk rock Mike was about 6 2" and long and lanky and he worked pretty hard to make himself look menacing. I guess at some point his head felt a little chilly so he pulled a ski mask out of the pocket of his cheesy leather jacket that was all the rage back then,and pulled it over his head and face.
We go back and sit in the van. About 15 min's later I hear the click of guns being cocked and the police are shouting for us to get out of the vehicle. By this time Gerry and the hippie girls were back.
We slide open the door to be greeted by guns in the face. The police told me to put my hands on top of the vehicle and I had a moment of panic because I was to short to reach. I shouted " DON"T SHOOT !! I'M TOO SHORT!!" last I checked it wasn't a crime to be petite, at least not in NY. But I wasn't in NY, no sir, I was in PA and apparently in PA petite is synonymous with "person who likes to rob gas stations".
The gas station attendants saw ole' punk rock and I coming up the hill and figured that the only reason a person would commit such a fashion don't like wearing a ski mask was if they were intending to rob something. So they called the cops hence the gun in my face. The cops took one look at Gerry with his crazy beard and Charles Manson eyes and proceeded to search the van. I watched as they read all the little tid bits of angst scribbled all over that some stupid anarchists or socialist or whoever thought was witty. I cursed those anarchists and socialist and whoever as I imaged myself doing 10-20 in the state pen, probably in solitary confinement, emerging after many long years to find myself a twisted, bitter old woman. Damn them! How dare they steal my youth!
The cops didn't find anything and after we explained we were just having car trouble and that punk rock Mike had a head that was prone to catching a chill, they ran our licences and let us go.
But we couldn't go because the van was still broken.
What happens next? I bet you wanna know , right.
Well, I can't tell you today because I have work to do here in candy bar land. This blogs not the only thing I do you know. The Fig and I are doing a Crispy Cat zine so keep your peepers open for that.
It's lunch time I gotta go.
DO NOT PANIC!
Please do not be alarmed that the name of the blog is different, it's still me.
You will still have all my wonderful stories to entertain you during the day. Just because the name has changed doesn't mean that you will no longer be having non-stop belly laughs and pant wetting good times.
I am dedicated to good times! But I think you already know that.
If you would like me to tackle a particular topic or if you have some burning question you want answered just let me know. After all it has been said that I am the smartest person on earth so I think that I am qualified to field any questions you might have (just so long as they don't involve long division or french)
You will still have all my wonderful stories to entertain you during the day. Just because the name has changed doesn't mean that you will no longer be having non-stop belly laughs and pant wetting good times.
I am dedicated to good times! But I think you already know that.
If you would like me to tackle a particular topic or if you have some burning question you want answered just let me know. After all it has been said that I am the smartest person on earth so I think that I am qualified to field any questions you might have (just so long as they don't involve long division or french)
Friday, July 13, 2007
Lets get to know Joel!
I would like to take a moment to talk about our leader here at Tree Huggin' Treats.
His name is Joel Schantz just in case your totally out of the loop or just woke up from a coma. He founded this whole thing and is totally dedicated to keeping it going.
He has a really nice wife and some really cute kids. I get a real kick out of his daughter Molly. She's 7 and she sometimes comes into the office and cracks the whip. I like watching her tell Eric how he's doing everything wrong. And it's not like he can argue because one day she might be our boss. I stay on her good side by pointing out some of the things she's not around to see and reminding her how he "warms up" the bars at demos. She has a cat named Bree that she keeps on a pretty tight schedule. I asked her to e-mail it to me because I was previously unaware that you could put your cat on a schedule and I wanted to know more. I tried to implement her schedule with my cat and the results were not as fruitful. Basically my cat just yessed me to death and did whatever he wanted. Joel's other daughter Ruby, is a juicy little toddler. Totally scrumptious. I had a dream once that I was swimming in Antarctica and I was carrying Ruby one minute and then I looked again and it was a midget. It was a really scary dream.
Anyway, as the community relations person of this place, it's my duty to relate to the community. I want to bring you one member of our staff each day. At the end of the week we can decide who gets voted off the island.
I see Joel at the gym and at the work place. When I see him on the StairMaster I know he can't escape my questions "Hey, am I doing this right?" I ask that after I show him some random exercise I just made up with free weights that are too heavy for me. He has never said yes.
He is also my guitar teacher. And my go-to person with all questions regarding my musical education. During our 2nd lesson he commented " This is going to be harder than I thought." Yet he has full confidence in my ability to one day become an awesome face melting guitarist .
The following statements were made by Joel:
" I was tripping on acid when you were still asking your parents for a bowl of trix"
" I'm gonna kick the world in the teeth and bite it on the ass!"
" I was at a Neville brothers concert........don't put that in your blog"
" I have a picture of me in a woman's wig and its pretty cute."
The following quote is brilliant. It's by Molly age 7
" Perfect is just a unique way of saying not perfect. It's not like someone just built these trees in."
Molly should copyright that so Joan Biaz doesn't steal it and turn it into a song.
I hope this was helpful in getting to know Joel a little better.
If you have any questions please feel free to contact me.
Stay tuned because on Monday I will showcase Eric, our sales and marketing guy.
He is also a Tom Cruise impersonator and is available for your next corporate affair or birthday
party.
(As always were are vegan kosher & gluten-free )
His name is Joel Schantz just in case your totally out of the loop or just woke up from a coma. He founded this whole thing and is totally dedicated to keeping it going.
He has a really nice wife and some really cute kids. I get a real kick out of his daughter Molly. She's 7 and she sometimes comes into the office and cracks the whip. I like watching her tell Eric how he's doing everything wrong. And it's not like he can argue because one day she might be our boss. I stay on her good side by pointing out some of the things she's not around to see and reminding her how he "warms up" the bars at demos. She has a cat named Bree that she keeps on a pretty tight schedule. I asked her to e-mail it to me because I was previously unaware that you could put your cat on a schedule and I wanted to know more. I tried to implement her schedule with my cat and the results were not as fruitful. Basically my cat just yessed me to death and did whatever he wanted. Joel's other daughter Ruby, is a juicy little toddler. Totally scrumptious. I had a dream once that I was swimming in Antarctica and I was carrying Ruby one minute and then I looked again and it was a midget. It was a really scary dream.
Anyway, as the community relations person of this place, it's my duty to relate to the community. I want to bring you one member of our staff each day. At the end of the week we can decide who gets voted off the island.
I see Joel at the gym and at the work place. When I see him on the StairMaster I know he can't escape my questions "Hey, am I doing this right?" I ask that after I show him some random exercise I just made up with free weights that are too heavy for me. He has never said yes.
He is also my guitar teacher. And my go-to person with all questions regarding my musical education. During our 2nd lesson he commented " This is going to be harder than I thought." Yet he has full confidence in my ability to one day become an awesome face melting guitarist .
The following statements were made by Joel:
" I was tripping on acid when you were still asking your parents for a bowl of trix"
" I'm gonna kick the world in the teeth and bite it on the ass!"
" I was at a Neville brothers concert........don't put that in your blog"
" I have a picture of me in a woman's wig and its pretty cute."
The following quote is brilliant. It's by Molly age 7
" Perfect is just a unique way of saying not perfect. It's not like someone just built these trees in."
Molly should copyright that so Joan Biaz doesn't steal it and turn it into a song.
I hope this was helpful in getting to know Joel a little better.
If you have any questions please feel free to contact me.
Stay tuned because on Monday I will showcase Eric, our sales and marketing guy.
He is also a Tom Cruise impersonator and is available for your next corporate affair or birthday
party.
(As always were are vegan kosher & gluten-free )
Thursday, July 12, 2007
What happens at the gym stays at the gym (Hopefully)
I know that this is long over due, but so much happens at the gym I never know where to start. It would be hard to pin point any specific thing or situation. It's an undefinable place with so many weird, gross things happening all at once that its a daunting task to try and capture it all with a few paragraphs. I would like to add smells and bodily fluids to really enhance the experience. Smells especially, the smells are a crucial part of the gym. I would like to make it an interactive experience, like you're reading this and all of sudden stinky armpit smell vapors come pouring out of your computer speakers. Or you notice that your keyboard has beads of sweat all over it and your chair is damp with some other persons perspiration. Yeah, now your really feeling it.
I go to the gym a few times a week at the same time so for the most part its the same cast of characters. There is such an assortment of people. Big muscle guys and old ladies, people who are really serious about lifting weights and people like me who have no idea what they are doing. Some people make a lot of primal grunting noises when they are hoisting weights around and some twist and contort their face. People are sweating and scantly clad, breathing hard and checking themselves and other people out in the mirror.
I go to the gym a few times a week at the same time so for the most part its the same cast of characters. There is such an assortment of people. Big muscle guys and old ladies, people who are really serious about lifting weights and people like me who have no idea what they are doing. Some people make a lot of primal grunting noises when they are hoisting weights around and some twist and contort their face. People are sweating and scantly clad, breathing hard and checking themselves and other people out in the mirror.
Coming into contact with the bodily fluids of complete strangers is a regular and most unhygienic occurrence. People are supposed to wipe down the machines and equipment but it's often forgotten in the frantic effort to get ripped. Nothing is worse than going to lay down on the bench to bench press that stick thing and slipping right off onto the floor. Mucho embarrassing.
I also had to re-name all the gym equipment. I either didn't know or couldn't remember the real names so I gave them names that reflected what they do, the same goes for free weight exercises.
For example the dip assist I call the dip s#@t. If I'm doing pull ups on it I call it the hang tight. I call the triceps machine candy ropes or mouse at the counter depending on the attachment I use. I refer to the lat pull down machine as the your love is lifting me higher. Instead of doing bent over rows I instead do the down right ho. I could go on but I don't know the actual names of the other exercises so you won't know what a McFaye really is or what dog biscuits do or even what the David Lee Roth ab thingy is really called.
Going to the gym is like stumbling onto an orgy full of the last people on earth you would ever want to see copulating.
I could wax poetic all day about the gym.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
In-laws and enemas. You do the math.
I have been away for 4 days.
I accompanied Teddydigtal to a wedding in PA.
If I were to fully document the events of this trip, I would have to go into the wittiness protection program.
This I am willing to do.
This trip was a non-stop, never ending all you can eat buffet of bizarre human behavior. And I just kept getting up for seconds.
In all fairness 98% of the people who encountered me on this trip probably thought I was either
a) The one with the bizarre behavior
b) totally rude and lacking social graces
c) A person out on a pass from a mental hospital
d) All of the above and then some
Who knows and who cares. One of the smartest things I have ever heard came from the chafed lips of a crack head I knew when I lived in NYC. She said that what other people thought of her was none of her business. I thought that was brilliant and I have carried that around with me ever since. Of course I don't live it. In fact I tend to act as if the opposite were true, insisting people tell me what they think of me and then demanding that they change it.
I feel bad for my father in law because he had the painful job of shuttling Teddydigital and I to and from the airport and to and from various other activities. It doesn't seem like it would be the sort of task that would make a person want to drive off a bridge, but actually it is.
There is just something about being around parents and siblings that has a time machine type of effect on me. And as it would turn out, it has the same effect on Teddydigital. ( It may have that effect on a lot of people, but I don't like to speak for other people, unless they are about to say something bad about me, then I have no problem jumping in.)
As my father-in-law preformed his parental duties Teddydigital and I laughed, shrieked and flung ourselves all over the back seat of his luxury sedan. We alternated wiping boogers on Teddydigital's brother and making out. As soon as it was announced that we were running late to go to an uncle's house because we took too long at the last gas station, my bladder felt dangerously full and I begged and whined until my FIL had no choice but to pull over. When asked why I didn't go to the bathroom at the last gas station I gave the standard reply of I didn't have to go then. I also mentioned that it may have had something to do with the big bottle of water I purchased at the last gas station, but I couldn't say for sure.
When my FIL asked if I would give him a shoulder rub for a minute because he had been driving for hours I hostilely refused, even though I 'm a massage therapist by trade. When he asked a second time I said OK and took my shoe off and proceeded to try and do it with my foot. That didn't go over very well.
After a while we settled down a little and started having some conversation. It seemed like the adult and mature thing to do. I remembered that its polite to ask seasoned citizens about how their health is. I also remembered that my FIL had some serious stomach problems the last time he came to visit. Actually, every time he comes to visit he has some sort of bowel disruption. I think he dose it on purpose so he can have an excuse to lay down and watch T.V. and not be forced to participate in excruciating family activities. It's brilliant if you think about it. Almost 100% fool proof. After all who in their right mind would force a person with diarrhea to go sigh seeing? Exactly. Kudos FIL for being so clever. But on that particular day not even a bout of dysentery could save him from spending quality time with his son and daughter- in -law.
He seemed to light up at the chance to discuss his colon. He went on to tell me all about what he had experienced in the last few weeks, how he went to the doctor and how he gets colonoscopy every 3 years. It was real edge of your seat type of stuff.
Then he told us how every Saturday night after the Jackie Gleason show his aunt gave him and his brother and enema. I was glued to my seat. It struck me that this is not as unusual as it seems. I remember my father reliving the first time my great aunt Maria meet my mother's cousin Mary. Apparently cousin Mary mentioned she wasn't feeling well and my great aunt, being the good hostess that she was, did what any person in her position would do. She offered to give Mary an enema, and Mary who wasn't raised by wolves, did what any other person in her position would do and accepted.
Fast forward a few years to the time I was sick and didn't feel up to going on a family trip to see our great grandparent's name at Ellis Island. My great aunt Maria couldn't see letting a stomach ache stop me from going to appreciate her parents arrival into America. She announced all I needed was an enema and I would be fine. I felt my blood run cold as I watched her tiny, puckered body, draped in a house coat head toward the bathroom. Thank God my mother stepped in when she did. I would hate to have to fight an 87 year old woman but I'm not going down like that.
I wonder how many people still believe in the mystical healing powers of the enema?
If you have been cured of a major medical or mental illness by an enema administered to you by your aunt or great aunt you could be a guest on our show.
I accompanied Teddydigtal to a wedding in PA.
If I were to fully document the events of this trip, I would have to go into the wittiness protection program.
This I am willing to do.
This trip was a non-stop, never ending all you can eat buffet of bizarre human behavior. And I just kept getting up for seconds.
In all fairness 98% of the people who encountered me on this trip probably thought I was either
a) The one with the bizarre behavior
b) totally rude and lacking social graces
c) A person out on a pass from a mental hospital
d) All of the above and then some
Who knows and who cares. One of the smartest things I have ever heard came from the chafed lips of a crack head I knew when I lived in NYC. She said that what other people thought of her was none of her business. I thought that was brilliant and I have carried that around with me ever since. Of course I don't live it. In fact I tend to act as if the opposite were true, insisting people tell me what they think of me and then demanding that they change it.
I feel bad for my father in law because he had the painful job of shuttling Teddydigital and I to and from the airport and to and from various other activities. It doesn't seem like it would be the sort of task that would make a person want to drive off a bridge, but actually it is.
There is just something about being around parents and siblings that has a time machine type of effect on me. And as it would turn out, it has the same effect on Teddydigital. ( It may have that effect on a lot of people, but I don't like to speak for other people, unless they are about to say something bad about me, then I have no problem jumping in.)
As my father-in-law preformed his parental duties Teddydigital and I laughed, shrieked and flung ourselves all over the back seat of his luxury sedan. We alternated wiping boogers on Teddydigital's brother and making out. As soon as it was announced that we were running late to go to an uncle's house because we took too long at the last gas station, my bladder felt dangerously full and I begged and whined until my FIL had no choice but to pull over. When asked why I didn't go to the bathroom at the last gas station I gave the standard reply of I didn't have to go then. I also mentioned that it may have had something to do with the big bottle of water I purchased at the last gas station, but I couldn't say for sure.
When my FIL asked if I would give him a shoulder rub for a minute because he had been driving for hours I hostilely refused, even though I 'm a massage therapist by trade. When he asked a second time I said OK and took my shoe off and proceeded to try and do it with my foot. That didn't go over very well.
After a while we settled down a little and started having some conversation. It seemed like the adult and mature thing to do. I remembered that its polite to ask seasoned citizens about how their health is. I also remembered that my FIL had some serious stomach problems the last time he came to visit. Actually, every time he comes to visit he has some sort of bowel disruption. I think he dose it on purpose so he can have an excuse to lay down and watch T.V. and not be forced to participate in excruciating family activities. It's brilliant if you think about it. Almost 100% fool proof. After all who in their right mind would force a person with diarrhea to go sigh seeing? Exactly. Kudos FIL for being so clever. But on that particular day not even a bout of dysentery could save him from spending quality time with his son and daughter- in -law.
He seemed to light up at the chance to discuss his colon. He went on to tell me all about what he had experienced in the last few weeks, how he went to the doctor and how he gets colonoscopy every 3 years. It was real edge of your seat type of stuff.
Then he told us how every Saturday night after the Jackie Gleason show his aunt gave him and his brother and enema. I was glued to my seat. It struck me that this is not as unusual as it seems. I remember my father reliving the first time my great aunt Maria meet my mother's cousin Mary. Apparently cousin Mary mentioned she wasn't feeling well and my great aunt, being the good hostess that she was, did what any person in her position would do. She offered to give Mary an enema, and Mary who wasn't raised by wolves, did what any other person in her position would do and accepted.
Fast forward a few years to the time I was sick and didn't feel up to going on a family trip to see our great grandparent's name at Ellis Island. My great aunt Maria couldn't see letting a stomach ache stop me from going to appreciate her parents arrival into America. She announced all I needed was an enema and I would be fine. I felt my blood run cold as I watched her tiny, puckered body, draped in a house coat head toward the bathroom. Thank God my mother stepped in when she did. I would hate to have to fight an 87 year old woman but I'm not going down like that.
I wonder how many people still believe in the mystical healing powers of the enema?
If you have been cured of a major medical or mental illness by an enema administered to you by your aunt or great aunt you could be a guest on our show.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
How to lose a digit
This "how to" is dedicated to my friend Mary, a gal that loves to blow stuff up.
* Consult with your health care practitioner before starting this or any other program. Results not typical. The writer is not responsible for any outcome, do not try this at home if you plan on suing me.*
Do you love playing with firecrackers even when it's not the 4th of July?
Do you get a thrill out of ignoring all the instructions and warnings on the package?
Do you want to look legit in the world of backyard pyrotechnics?
If you answered yes to any of the above questions then this "how to" is for you.
Everyone knows that in the world of amateur fireworks, nothing gets you street credit faster then losing a finger.
Nothing shouts "Bad Ass" like a dude with a bandaged hand or a chick with a gnarly stump.
When the guy with 8 fingers invites you to his house for the 4th you just know you're going to see something cool.
So, what's stopping you from becoming that guy?
Just 10 little things stand between you and your dreams.
Now let's learn how to make your dreams a reality.
Step 1 Have an earnest desire to blow stuff up. Honestly assess how far you are willing to go for your passion. If you really want to look cool you have to be able to sacrifice. And as far as a sacrifice goes, a finger is not so bad. Do you really need all 10? Just go within and the answer will come.
Step 2 Go to South Carolina and buy as many of the biggest and craziest fireworks as you can. Make sure you get some of the smaller ones as well, they are great for blowing off a pinkie or a two. A nice variety will do nicely. It's important to cover all your bases, so you may want to consult with a professional.
Step 3 Get a few cans from the recycling bin. Look specifically for cans with a warning label that indicates they are unsafe to put explosives in. Use your imagination, get creative, think outside the box.
Step 4 is to have a party before the 4th of July. This ensures that when you do have your rocking party on the 4th everyone will have already heard how you blew one of your fingers off.
Step 5 Now it's time to get down to business. Get really amped up! Get excited and excite everyone around you. Let all your inhibitions go. Light firecracker after firecracker, and throw them wildly around. Toss one at a friend and yell, "WE'RE PLAYING HOT POTATO". They will instinctively try to catch it and then toss it back immediately. By the time it gets back to your hand...bye bye pointer finger!
If your friends refuse to play...just keep setting them off and eventually you're bound to get lucky. Either way do not give up. Remember, this is your dream and it's worth chasing after.
*Important note: Know your limits, you don't want to take it too far.
Studies indicate that 9 out of 10 attractive women agree that men who are missing up to but not exceeding 3 fingers are more desirable and better dancers then those who possess all 10.
Studies also indicate that 10 out of 10 women agree that accidentally blowing your eye out with a cherry bomb is not sexy.
Also, I don't recommend losing your thumb. Remember your thumb is what separates you from your dog. It is a known fact that 9 out of 10 dogs are smarter than their owners. It is only the lack of a thumb that has prevented your dog from running up big bills on your cell phone and using ATM machines to drain your bank account and basically take over your life. And lets face it, the way your life seems to be going ,your dog might be better suited to take care of you instead of the other way around. So think carefully before you blow it off.
It's important to remember that even if you blow off your hand or lose your hearing, it was not in vain. This country was founded by people who dared to follow a dream, brave men not afraid to put it all on the line. That is the American dream. The pursuit of happiness and all that other stuff is your birth right. So go out and stick that illegal explosive in a metal lunch box and see what freedoms come flying out!
Now it's time to enjoy your new found fame and notoriety as well as cash in on all the sympathy from the opposite sex. You will have so many dates you won't know what to do with yourself. Amputees are totally in this season.
With a little hard work and patience you too can be living the life you have always wanted but never thought you could have!
* Consult with your health care practitioner before starting this or any other program. Results not typical. The writer is not responsible for any outcome, do not try this at home if you plan on suing me.*
Do you love playing with firecrackers even when it's not the 4th of July?
Do you get a thrill out of ignoring all the instructions and warnings on the package?
Do you want to look legit in the world of backyard pyrotechnics?
If you answered yes to any of the above questions then this "how to" is for you.
Everyone knows that in the world of amateur fireworks, nothing gets you street credit faster then losing a finger.
Nothing shouts "Bad Ass" like a dude with a bandaged hand or a chick with a gnarly stump.
When the guy with 8 fingers invites you to his house for the 4th you just know you're going to see something cool.
So, what's stopping you from becoming that guy?
Just 10 little things stand between you and your dreams.
Now let's learn how to make your dreams a reality.
Step 1 Have an earnest desire to blow stuff up. Honestly assess how far you are willing to go for your passion. If you really want to look cool you have to be able to sacrifice. And as far as a sacrifice goes, a finger is not so bad. Do you really need all 10? Just go within and the answer will come.
Step 2 Go to South Carolina and buy as many of the biggest and craziest fireworks as you can. Make sure you get some of the smaller ones as well, they are great for blowing off a pinkie or a two. A nice variety will do nicely. It's important to cover all your bases, so you may want to consult with a professional.
Step 3 Get a few cans from the recycling bin. Look specifically for cans with a warning label that indicates they are unsafe to put explosives in. Use your imagination, get creative, think outside the box.
Step 4 is to have a party before the 4th of July. This ensures that when you do have your rocking party on the 4th everyone will have already heard how you blew one of your fingers off.
Step 5 Now it's time to get down to business. Get really amped up! Get excited and excite everyone around you. Let all your inhibitions go. Light firecracker after firecracker, and throw them wildly around. Toss one at a friend and yell, "WE'RE PLAYING HOT POTATO". They will instinctively try to catch it and then toss it back immediately. By the time it gets back to your hand...bye bye pointer finger!
If your friends refuse to play...just keep setting them off and eventually you're bound to get lucky. Either way do not give up. Remember, this is your dream and it's worth chasing after.
*Important note: Know your limits, you don't want to take it too far.
Studies indicate that 9 out of 10 attractive women agree that men who are missing up to but not exceeding 3 fingers are more desirable and better dancers then those who possess all 10.
Studies also indicate that 10 out of 10 women agree that accidentally blowing your eye out with a cherry bomb is not sexy.
Also, I don't recommend losing your thumb. Remember your thumb is what separates you from your dog. It is a known fact that 9 out of 10 dogs are smarter than their owners. It is only the lack of a thumb that has prevented your dog from running up big bills on your cell phone and using ATM machines to drain your bank account and basically take over your life. And lets face it, the way your life seems to be going ,your dog might be better suited to take care of you instead of the other way around. So think carefully before you blow it off.
It's important to remember that even if you blow off your hand or lose your hearing, it was not in vain. This country was founded by people who dared to follow a dream, brave men not afraid to put it all on the line. That is the American dream. The pursuit of happiness and all that other stuff is your birth right. So go out and stick that illegal explosive in a metal lunch box and see what freedoms come flying out!
Now it's time to enjoy your new found fame and notoriety as well as cash in on all the sympathy from the opposite sex. You will have so many dates you won't know what to do with yourself. Amputees are totally in this season.
With a little hard work and patience you too can be living the life you have always wanted but never thought you could have!
Monday, July 2, 2007
Prank calls are a lost art.
I normally don't do this blog until the end of the day. I usually need the entire day to pass by until I have something good enough to document. However, when I came into work this morning I had plenty to work with within 5 minutes of being in the office.
First there was a grotesque picture sitting on my desk, a real stomach turner. Someone took the camera on the Mac and stuck it right up in their face, near their nose and took a picture. Then printed it out and wrote "look up my nose" with a sharpie and stuck it on my desk. How juvenile, I don't think I need to mention who would do this sort of thing. (He is my arch nemesis and he will stop at nothing.) I guess what he doesn't know is that at one point in my life I was an aspiring colon hydro-therapist, so looking up a nostril is no big deal, relatively speaking.
As I was recovering from being forced to look at the mucus membrane of a special co-worker, I noticed the voicemail light flashing.
OK, I want to give the person who left the message credit for trying to bring back the lost art of the prank call, but it was really lame. I think at some point I will do a "how to" on prank calls, but for now lets take an analytical look at this one. Hopefully the person who left the message will read this and can use this as a learning experience. A teachable moment if you will. Here is the exact message that was left.
Yo Hippie
I want some Tree Huggin' Treats for my horse
Can you get me that? Call me back at 1-800-horse. bye
On a scale of 1-10 I give this prank call a 2.
Let me break this down for you my equine loving friend.
First of all your prank call lacks several crucial key elements.
The 3 C's of prank calling are Creativity, Confidence, and Courage.
I'm sorry but this call lacks all 3.
The body of this call is not very creative, I mean, calling for horse treats ? Come on, with a little more effort I'm sure you could have though of something better.
As for confidence, the callers voice was shaky and nervous, a dead give away that this caller was no pro.
And the final nail in the coffin was that the caller totally lacked courage. A good prank call takes balls and this person left the message at 10:45 at night, a time that they knew the office would be empty. The number showed up as unavailable, but I won't take points off for that, blocking your number is standard.
Overall I was disappointed in the call. I myself used to love prank calling as an adolescent. And I will admit I still prank call my friend April at the day spa where she works from time to time. I can get more into that when i do the "how to". Those prank calls are more advanced and are not intended for the inexperienced.
I would invite this person to go ahead and try again, at least they tried, even if it wasn't very good. And for the record I am not a hippie. So I'll give props for button pushing. That would bump the score up from a 2 to a 3.5.
I will do a "how to" on the art of prank calling in the near future.
Stay tuned.
First there was a grotesque picture sitting on my desk, a real stomach turner. Someone took the camera on the Mac and stuck it right up in their face, near their nose and took a picture. Then printed it out and wrote "look up my nose" with a sharpie and stuck it on my desk. How juvenile, I don't think I need to mention who would do this sort of thing. (He is my arch nemesis and he will stop at nothing.) I guess what he doesn't know is that at one point in my life I was an aspiring colon hydro-therapist, so looking up a nostril is no big deal, relatively speaking.
As I was recovering from being forced to look at the mucus membrane of a special co-worker, I noticed the voicemail light flashing.
OK, I want to give the person who left the message credit for trying to bring back the lost art of the prank call, but it was really lame. I think at some point I will do a "how to" on prank calls, but for now lets take an analytical look at this one. Hopefully the person who left the message will read this and can use this as a learning experience. A teachable moment if you will. Here is the exact message that was left.
Yo Hippie
I want some Tree Huggin' Treats for my horse
Can you get me that? Call me back at 1-800-horse. bye
On a scale of 1-10 I give this prank call a 2.
Let me break this down for you my equine loving friend.
First of all your prank call lacks several crucial key elements.
The 3 C's of prank calling are Creativity, Confidence, and Courage.
I'm sorry but this call lacks all 3.
The body of this call is not very creative, I mean, calling for horse treats ? Come on, with a little more effort I'm sure you could have though of something better.
As for confidence, the callers voice was shaky and nervous, a dead give away that this caller was no pro.
And the final nail in the coffin was that the caller totally lacked courage. A good prank call takes balls and this person left the message at 10:45 at night, a time that they knew the office would be empty. The number showed up as unavailable, but I won't take points off for that, blocking your number is standard.
Overall I was disappointed in the call. I myself used to love prank calling as an adolescent. And I will admit I still prank call my friend April at the day spa where she works from time to time. I can get more into that when i do the "how to". Those prank calls are more advanced and are not intended for the inexperienced.
I would invite this person to go ahead and try again, at least they tried, even if it wasn't very good. And for the record I am not a hippie. So I'll give props for button pushing. That would bump the score up from a 2 to a 3.5.
I will do a "how to" on the art of prank calling in the near future.
Stay tuned.
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