Happy New Year!

Happy New Year! Buon anno! Bonne année! Feliz año nuevo! Manigong Bagong Taon! Voorspoedige nuwe jaar!

The Land That The Modern World And Advertising Forgot

I know that you've seen at least one of these over at Katie's blog and after seeing these politically incorrect ads from The Daily Mail? Let's face it, you've really come really come a long way baby...at least, advertising-wise. The caption that accompanies each advert is in blue Trebuchet.

1930s: You do all the household chores - and still look fresher every day, darling. What's your secret? A bowl of Kellogg's PEP vitamin cereal for breakfast, naturally.

"So the harder a wife works, the cuter she looks!" Wha? Just keep believing that pal. When all of her ribs are showing, even through that apron and her teeth are falling out (from the meth in that cereal), how cute will she be then? I guess it was okay to rock the zombie-look back in the '30s.

Note also that The Daily Mail misspelled "household" in that caption, ha!

1953: Husband furious because you've missed the post? The Pitney-Bowes Postage Meter prints the stamp and seals the envelope all in one go.

Um, excuse me? Outside of a couple of backward Third World countries with their utter bullshit about honor, where and when is it ever legal to kill a woman? I repeat, it is not acceptable, but I imagine that among even psychopaths, going O.J. over postage is even less acceptable.

1953: You don't need a knife, a bottle opener or even your husband to unscrew the cap of this bottle - just a little twist of the Alcoa HyTop Closure, made of pure aluminium, and that ketchup is ready to pour.

Overt phallic imagery aside, this actually testifies to how slow men can be. You see, if it is a smaller than a jar that is three inches wide? She can open it herself, fellas. She just wants you to think that you are stronger than you really are.

1970: Your wife won't be able to stall the car or grind the gears - and there's even one pedal fewer to confuse her with the Mini Automatic.

Is that Goldie Hawn? I believe that's Goldie Hawn! At any rate, I'm not going to debate which of the sexes drives better, I've known some women that could give Dale Jr. a run for his money. However, I will tell you that BMWs, Saabs, food, texting, overwork, and cell phones have made both sexes equally bad, behind the wheel.

This also shows how far we have come, you think that an advertiser would ask Kate Hudson to stoop to this?

Let's Get These Two Hooked Up

Over at Chris's blog, I am always encouraging him to marry that Superwoman, Megan.

I mean, the way he describes her? All wonderful things and all things wonderful, but with these great pluses; she loves beer, German food and she lets him grow a beard. That, is icing on the wedding cake.

But why should she marry him? Hey, as I said way back in April-

Note, not only does he have a hilarious blog, but he can carry tune better than anyone on "Idol" and he checks his mirrors while he drives. Three qualities that all young Americans should emulate.

If you say to Megan, "that's not enough?" Well, I hate to point out the obvious, but...

This is a picture of Chris...

...and this is a picture of the Luke Skywalker action figure. Strong, the Force is in this one.

It Was The Missus

So I came home five minutes late. What the hey, ya know?

So then the person who sleeps next to me, kinda blew her top.

Of course, everyone else heard it too.

Sorry folks, I promise I'll be on time from now on.

Happy Anniversary Coaster & George

I completely forgot, Happy Anniversary to one of my favorite couples Coaster Punchman and Poor George! To a long and happy life together!

Yes, The Wife's Christmas Dreams Came True

Don't let anyone fool you, there is a God and he hears your prayers...ask the Missus.

I had laryngitis on Christmas Eve and it just got worse through out the Christmas Day. "Silent night?" "Silent day after," too.

New To The Blogroll

New to the blogroll-

Astonishing Adventures. The premiere online pulp magazine is already linked to my other two blogs and I've dropped plenty of plugs here and there, yet somehow I've managed to forget to add the site to the main blogroll. Well, no better time than now, now that Issue Number Two is out!

Six Sentences. Truly, can a story be told in as little as six sentences? Yes it can.

The saucy South African, Living Bridget.

And A Double Entendre In A Pear Tree

Why did it take me all the way up until yesterday, to figure out the double entendre behind "hurry down the chimney tonight" in "Santa Baby?"

Just In Time For The Holidays

Just in time for the holidays, I've posted a story.

This will probably my last post until the 26th so-

Merry Christmas! A Happy Kawanza and though this has already passed, it bares repeating.
Buon Natale!
Mele Kalika Maka!
Feliz Navidad!
Joyeux Noël!
Maligayang Pasko!
Geseënde Kersfees! Sorry if I got that wrong, Angel.

Do You See What I See? Or, "Britain, WTF?"

So a couple of days ago, I was reading Quin's blog and...

"The other new fad over here is to stick your holiday tree out of the side of your house at a 45 degree angle and decorate it.

I don't know why, but, it's done.

It seems it would be hard to put your presents there, but, that's what glue guns are for, I reckon."

Then call the following post, "pudding," 'cause their goes your proof, Joe Jackson. It's good thing Paul Revere didn't see this back in the day, he would've said "meh, they're coming? Big whoop."

Ladies And Gentlemen...

...I give you, the cover of Astonishing Adventures Issue Number Two!

Skewering St*rbucks

I go back and forth with this particular chain. I like their coffee, but I don't like how they smack the little coffee shops like around like they are red headed stepchildren. Nonetheless, I am not fond of this particular ad campaign...

"Gesture with gingerbread?" What is so Christmas about that?

Use both of your middle-fingers instead, in order two capture that true Christmas experience.

"Share a snowflake?" Ladies and gentlemen, what did we learn from "Less Than Zero?" Those that do like Julian, wind up like Julian. A "hazy shade of winter," indeed. Just say "hells(sic) no!"

"Make a snow elephant." Ah yes, the end result of their new "Jägermeister Triple Latte" that will have you so plastered, that all you will be able to do is writhe in the slush.

"Bring back the bear hug?" Uh, bad idea. This picture seems innocent enough...

...yet, note how skinny the bear is. He hasn't put on the normal weight that bears usually do during winter nor is he hibernating. Let's be honest, he's got a fish habit that he can't kick and hugging you is merely a ruse for him to get at your wallet. Then he will take the contents from it and trade them to those two guys that are ice fishing in the background, for some trout.




"Find a scarf buddy?" Oh, good gravy. Where do I start with this one?

No good will come of this.

At best? We're talking an incident of Three Stooges proportions.

Beyond that? Does the name "Isadora Duncan" ring a bell?

Santarchy

Ohhhh
You better not pout
You better not cry

...because you are seriously outnumbered. That's right, there's a flash mob of Santas known as "Santarchy."

Oh...and, uh, Mr. Owl, how many Santas does it take to fill a restaurant?

"I, The Jury Duty"

Last Monday I served jury duty and no, there will be no discussion of Spillane, other than that a few of the women that were rotting away in the room with us, could've been "dames" that would've made even Mike Hammer wary.

I was supposed to serve on October 30th, but Halloween, coupled with workplace shenanigans where The Missus worked at, kept me completely distracted. So I didn't remember that I had to serve, until November 2nd. Well, I figured that they simply didn't call our pool and that I got away with it...silly goose, of course not.

On December 7th, I got a notice saying "hey, mug, youse didn't serve no jury duty and you better get down here, or we'll have to mess you up." I called up and it took me about three tries to get a hold of someone, seeing how it was a Friday and they wanted to go home. The clerk asked me if I could come down 1 PM the following Monday and I did.

I recognized some nefarious people from work and no, I don't mean fellow employees, but denizens of the street. They were going the metal detectors and lo and behold, they actually left their weapons at home. We got through faster than the last time I had been down to 850 Bryant, but that was because they have more lines and detectors than ever.

The nefarious (nefarii?) and the average citizens were there to clear up their tickets, warrants or visit their pals in jail. The rest of us went upstairs to the third floor to do time of a different nature. In theory, the difference between jury duty and jail is:

At some point, you are free to go.
No one will beat you up.
No one will try to bugger you.

Well, like I said, in theory. Actually, it was in practice, too...up to a certain point.

The seating capacity in the jury waiting room is according to the fire department, three-hundred and fifty-eight (if I remember correctly) and after the last of the stragglers crawled in at 1:30 PM, the place was a little less than two-thirds full. Other than the people sitting in the first five rows and in the Wi-fi area, no one wanted to next to someone else. No one.

So in this game of musical chairs, if you got up to get a drink or went to the bathroom too soon, someone would try to take your chair. Mind you, there were no signs that said you had to be quiet, but no one was talking. Since silence seemed to be the only thing that everyone was on the same page about, the person that found their chair occupied, glared at her squatter.

And glared.
And glared.
And glared.

And really, you didn't got the clue, yet? I was three rows back and I could feel the lasers that "Ms. Dispossessed Chair" was shooting from her eyeballs.

Ah, good, you finally figured that out. Just because there are no shivs or sharpened toothbrushes, doesn't mean that she wasn't going to grab her house keys and use them in a fist, to punch you in your temple. No, don't come over here and sit by me. Why do they always sit by me? I'm not going to nurture your dumb ass.

So that was an hour and half of this numb nut, sitting next to me, even though there other people he could've bothered. Well, it was just for the day and that's why I didn't stick him, either.

They do allow cell phones and I thought I would call the Missus and pass the boredom along...uh, no, we had to watch a video. We had to watch a video on what? That's right, how to be a juror. Remember how I was talking about "doing time of a different nature?" Well, this falls under cruel and unusual punishment.

They went over the basics of service and if you have watched as much "Law & Order" or "Perry Mason" as I have, you knew all of this over a decade ago. At one point there is this poor Filipino woman that said "I thought serving on a jury was going to be bad, but it was actually kind of fun and I enjoyed it."

Note, I can't quote her verbatim, because my brain kept shutting down in defense of my sanity. Note also that while she said this, she looked positively terrified and I belief that off camera, there was a bailiff had a cattle prod or equally menacing device. Note also that this video is almost thirty fucking minutes long!

I repeat, "cruel and unusual punishment."

Then a clerk came out and explained how long we would be on call. He also went into where we could and could not park because of towing after 3 PM (which of course, someone didn't pay attention and no, it wasn't me), as well as where to eat, and which were the best garages to park at.

That took another ten minutes, then came the wait. Did I mention that I forgot to bring a book? Well, I was running on three and a half hours of sleep, so I left the books at home as I went on auto-pilot. That meant I could call The Missus ever so often or I could try and catch up on my sleep.

The thing was that I was seated not that far from the vending machines. Whenever someone got some coffee? Well, let's just say that the coffee came out already burnt and that burnt coffee did not smell all that different from human methane. No, it wasn't me or anybody else, it was the coffee, honest.

Then as would I drift off into beautiful slumber? Ker-clunk went the soda machine. No rest for the wicked or those in the juror pool. The Missus claims the saying is actually "no rest for the weary," but they wouldn't have gotten any sleep either. Speaking of getting some, I didn't know that the juror pool was a pick-up joint, um, the ring on my ring-finger is there for a reason.

Let me cut it short because I am putting myself to sleep, it was only two hours and forty-seven minutes since I entered 850 Bryant, until I left the place. I think if we let some of these Hollywood stars do some of their sentence in this room, it would do wonders to their attitudes and it might scare them straight for life.

Doctor Gonzo Played Guitar

Earlier this morning, I heard a street singer strumming along on his guitar. He was playing a song that I didn't recognize, but it wasn't all that different from say, Crosby, Stills & Nash or Buffalo Springfield. His guitar was in tune, which is rare for street singers and also amazing, considering how cold and drafty it was in the spot he chose.

He had a pretty good voice, I'd liken it to Tom Waits crossed with Stephen Stills, yet...








...he enunciated like Benicio Del Toro channeling Fenster from "The Usual Suspects" or Oscar Z. Alcosta from "Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas." He made Bob Dylan sound positively crystal clear in comparison.

No, he wasn't a bullfrog and no, I didn't help him drink his wine.

Joy to the unintelligibles
Joy to the fruits and vegetables
Joy to those that make you wonder what you heard
Joy to those who garble every word

That's not "incredible," it is simply astonishing!

The Editor JDC is no longer the "editor," but now he is publisher as the Astonishing Adventures Magazine family will soon be expanding. Tim "Yeti" Gallagher will become "Editor In Chief" and not only will the Issue #2 of AAM be coming out shortly, but also horror, in Enchanting Tales From Hell Magazine.

Not to mention that there are books on the horizon, with Astonishing Adventures Books.

And That's Why I Love Her

Me: Stop patronizing me.

The Missus: No, no, I am matronizing you. There is a difference.

Junior's Observational Skills

So last night while the family was waiting on dinner at Mel's, Procrastinator Junior looks over at the tabletop jukebox and sees a listing for "Etta James: The Definitive Collection."

Junior: Who is Etta James?
Me: She's a singer.
Junior: She doesn't seem to want to sing about happy things.
Me: Yeah, well, I think she's a blues singer.
Junior: If you look at the song titles, it's like the title of her songs are trying to tell a story.

I glance over and lo and behold, Rod Stewart, every title tells a story, don't it? Let me try and piece this together for you without adding any words and omitting "Dance With Me Henry." Click the thing to see the titles for yourself-

The wallflower good rockin' daddy. W-o-m-a-n, all I could do was cry, if I can't have you. My dearest darling, at last, don't cry baby. A Sunday kind of love, trust in me. Something's got a hold on me, stop the wedding!

Pushover, tell mama I'd rather go blind! Security! All the way down, take it to the limit, damn your eyes! Whatever gets you through the night, the man I love. I've been loving you too long, the sky is crying.

Liz Hickok Has Two New Shows On The Way

Liz Hickok has two shows coming up, but first? Note the wondrous view of San Francisco from Alcatraz-

Liz captures what Michel Gondry wishes he only could. Now check out the dates and be amazed-

CLOSE CALLS Date: 1/13/2008 - 2/25/2008 (Tuesday-Friday and Sunday)

12:00 PM - 5:00 PM

Location: Headlands Center for the Arts, Sausalito, CA

Opening Reception: February 3, 2-5PM

And-

Places Between: Artists Combining Photography with Sculpture

Date: 1/28/2008 - 2/22/2008

Location: Diablo Valley College Art Gallery, Pleasant Hill, CA

Opening Reception: TBD

Go ahead, Liz! You are literally, the hardest working person in art!

Spotchy's Story Meme

Listen to me do Silvio doing his bad "Godfather III" Pacino impression, "just when I thought I was out, they pullll me back in."

So Chris has caught something and he is passing it along to all of us-

If you are one of the carriers of this story virus (i.e. you have been tagged and choose to contribute to it), you will have one responsibility, in addition to contributing your own piece of the story: you will have to tag at least one person that continues your story thread. So, say you tag five people. If four people decide to not participate, it's okay, as long as the fifth one does. And if all five participate, well that's five interesting threads the story spins off into.

So, here goes:

I woke up hungry. I pulled my bedroom curtain to the side and looked out on a hazy morning. I dragged myself into the kitchen, in search of something to eat. I reached for a jar of applesauce sitting next to the sink, and found it very cold to the touch. I opened the jar and realized it was frozen. (Splotchy)

My first idea was to put the applesauce in the microwave. Hey, I was still tired. Could I scoop some out and put whipped cream on it? No, too solid. Why was it so damn cold in here? I walked over to the thermostat and saw that the heat hadn't clicked on all night and the temperature had dropped substantially overnight. Now, tired and hungry, I opened the access panel on the heater. There's the problem: why was someone cooking a duck in here? (SamuraiFrog)

I bent down and scooped up the uncooked duck carcass. There was no way I was going to let it go to waste, especially considering I had applesauce on hand. I placed it in a roasting pot and went back to reset the heater. As I continued to wake up, I realized that my roommate had spent the night at his girlfriend's place and couldn't have put the duck there. "How the hell did it get there?" I wondered. Just then, an already odd situation became even stranger. The lifeless duck animated, flapped its featherless wings, and began to speak. (Some Guy)

"Zal-pinga, zal-pinga, zow-zow-zow! I am the ghost of unrequited meals and you will be haunted by three more meals, tonight!"

I folded my arms, my face and body language conveyed equal parts doubt and skepticism.

"What?" asked the duck.

"Shouldn't you be an ex-business partner or friend of mine that has passed away?"

"What?"

"Marley, you know, you should be like Marley."

"What are you going on about? I am not a reggae duck."

"No, if this is anything like the story, you shouldn't be a duck, you should be someone just like Jacob Marley...I don't know, maybe, uh, Dwight Holstein."

"He's too busy haunting Louise Barret, because she stood him up on prom night. At any rate, tonight, you will be visited by three meals."

"But why do meals walk the earth and why do they come to me?"

"Will you shut up already? I am freezing walking around here, with nary a stitch of clothing or plumage-"

"And why should you be cold, you are dead already?"

"And why do you think we ghosts are moaning all the time? It's bad enough being dead, but...you are getting my sidetracked! Tonight, you will be visited by three meals!" (Write Procrastinator)

Now I am passing it along to you. I tag:

Katie (B.Online.F.F.)
Becky (because you're tagged for life)
Chelene (because she says she should write)
Quin (because she knows how to write)
Johnny Dollars (money time, JDC).

A Post Scriptum- Here is Quin's and I love Flannery's take.

Reprise

The more things change, the more they remain the same. As Katie came by yet again, to help me rid the recent infestation of blog crickets, I can't count on her or any of my four regulars to pull me out of my slump. Let's face it, this blog is not handling its terrible twos all that well and I let the blogaversary pass without incident.

So in the meantime, I'll have to recharge my creative batteries and resort to reprinting the "classics."

From December of 2005, "Christmas Tree 1, Procrastinator 0."

Happy Hanukkah

Happy Hannukah!...

...Channukah!

...Hanukah!

You get the idea.

Light the Menorah already.

Damn, He's Faster Than He Looks

Whoa, lo and behold, someone is on the verge of breaking Barry Sanders all-time collegiate record for rushing yards in a single season. "Just who?" You ask, might accomplish this wondrous and seemingly impossible feat?...




Why it is none other than Kevin Smith.

It's nice to know that parenthood, filmmaking and yes, even cigarettes haven't slowed him down.

Go, Kevin, Go!

If You Are Bored Out Of Your Skull

If you are bored out of your skull, I posted a new story.

Well, it's not a new story, it's a story that someone chose not to publish a couple of months ago.

Well I wouldn't actually call it a story, it is more like an exercise.

Like I said, if you are bored, ya know?

Please Take A Little Time Out

Please take a little time out to say a prayer for Quin.