Feeble Friday

Sunrise... Sunset... Sunrise... Sunset... Man, where does the time go? It's Friday already, and here I am without a topic to be found. I think I've done rather well this week so far, though, without a theme, or any ideas of any kind. Until today.

Today I am tired and cranky and really wanting to be done with my job. It's not a bad job, it's just kind of tedious and boring and I want a break. But I'm only going to have to work through one more week before I go camping with the bf for a week, so I guess I shouldn't complain.

It's pretty cool that I actually get to take a week of vacation while working on a temp job. I kind of felt weird about doing it at first, but then I remembered that I had only agreed to a certain length of contract to begin with and then they extended it for another month or so. I had already planned the vacation beforehand and had told them about it right from the beginning. Still, a lot of employers could be pricks about it and they have been nothing but accomodating.

And that's really the problem. My work environment is simply too reasonable and sane. How can anyone expect me to come up with the funny when my coworkers are neither stupid nor mean nor incompetent? It's unheard of. Do you think Dilbert got where he is today with that kind of atmosphere at work? Hell, no.

Ah, well. Maybe the next temp job will be better. Maybe it'll be filled with petty, moronic jackasses prone to hilarious malapropisms and gross incompetence. Let's all cross our fingers, eh?

Themeless Thursday

As this is a rudderless week, so to speak, I have no compunction in going back to the work well to fill up today's update.

As I intimated a few weeks ago I work in a cacoon of an office, a murmuring abyss of quietude. As a result I cling to any sound like a tiny lifeboat in a sea of tranquility, even if it's just the sound of me humming, or a snippet of a song that plays over and over and over in my head. And I've got a seemingly endless catalog of songs and sound bytes to choose from, all triggered by the tiniest of hints...

Advertising
I've spent a great deal of my life watching commercials. Now you might guess that would be a wasted life, but you'd be wrong. Because how else could I amuse myself all day long if I couldn't call up these gems out of the recesses of my mind?

Hint
Wing Son, an Asian name on a file

Jingle
"I can't seem to forget you... your Windsong stays on my mind..."

Hint
A woman with the name Libby calls in to ask a question

Jingle
If there's Libby's Libby's Libby's on the label label label, you will love it love it love it on your table table table

Hint
A member lives on Spence street

Jingle
Spence Diamonds... better by design!! (perhaps a little too local of a reference, but if you've heard it once, you'll hear it forever)

Television
I've spent a great deal of my life watching television. Now you might guess that would be a wasted life, but you'd be wrong. Because how else -- ooh, that was weird. I just had the strangest sense of deja vu. Huh. Anyway.

Hint
A member's contact name is Maude.

Song
Isadora was the first bra burner, ain't you glad she showed up? And when the country was fallin' apart Betsy Ross got it all sewed up. And then there's Maude...

Hint
An address with the street name of Morton Avenue

Song (from Schoolhouse Rock) Mr. Morton walked down the street. Mr. Morton walked. Mr. Morton talked to his cat. Mr. Morton talked. Mr. Morton was lonely. Mr. Morton was. Mr. Morton is the subject of the sentence, and what the predicate says, he does.

Hint
The name Martin looks like Martian for a split second

Song (from Santa Claus vs. The Martians)You spell it S-A-N-T-A C-L-A-U-S, hooray for Santy Claus!

Hint
Well, there's not really a hint here. It's just a guy's last name. But the name suggests a certain pronounciation for me. I have to say it the way a certain character from Futurama would pronounce it. And I have to say it about fifty times. See if you can guess which character.

Name
McCooey. That's right, you guessed it. Professor Farnsworth. I just have to add about three more ooey-ooey's on the end of this name, whether I like it or not.

And then of course there is the just plain juvenile side to me, which responds to certain names with a titter and a giggle. Or sometimes just a scratch to the head.

Last name Black-Olive.
Comment Someone who had the last name of Black married a person with the last name of Olive and decided the hyphenated version was the best possible solution to the whole name-change conundrum. "I'll have a pizza with mushroom, pepperoni and my last name please."

Last name Kok
Comment Snnkt!

Name Pina Bannister
Comment Not really the name's fault, but I always think of those stupid kid jokes of fake books by fake authors. You know, like "Sliding Down the Bannister" by Vladimir Rippaballoff, or "Conquering Incontinence" by I. P. Knightly. Okay, so this is a stretch, but whatareyagonnado?

Name Horatio Wong
Comment (blower)

Alright. Well, that's it. Have a great day everybody. I'll be spending it whistling old tunes from Sid & Marty Krofft shows and repeating lines from various commercials and sitcoms all day. Pray for me.

Wingin' It Wednesday

Man, updating every day is hard. If only I could rant on and on about "the customer from h3ll today that totlly spazzed on ne. She made me want to jest grab a gun and shoot every1 in teh entire mall!! No, jest kiddin, I wouldn't want to kill Justin or Ben, tehy are t0tally h4wt!!1!! lol!!1!"

*sigh* If only.

But I made a promise and now I've got to try to think up something remotely interesting and write in complete sentences every day this week. But like I say, it's hard. So maybe I don't do it today. Maybe I just play with some of the sound bytes on my computer and try to make up a story to fit around them. Yeah, that might work.

As you may know, I'm not the most technologically advanced creature in the world. Growing up in my household was not conducive to it. My mom wasn't very interested in new-fangled technology, even if she'd have had the money for it, which she did not. We never had any kind of computer games in our house. I had to go over to my friend Jenn's house to play Atari when it first came out (oh, the humiliation! The shame!)

In fact, we were so behind the times I remember being really excited when my mom made the forward-thinking decision to buy an electric typewriter in 1989 (it erases mistakes automatically!)

I think the first glimpse I ever got of home computing was when I started dating my first boyfriend ever. He was a total geek. He had a top of the line system, his own printer and something called a "modem" that he said he could use to talk to other geeks in the vicinity. It sounded like some kind of wonderful moon-man magic to me. He told me that they would spend hours discussing science, religion, music, whatever. He said that it was the wave of the future and that it would make the world a better, more friendly place. And I believed him.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, 11 years passed and I thought I'd jump into the pool with both feet. I bought my first computer, a laptop, one that isn't even listed on the manufacturer's website anymore. Sadly, it's now listed in the "hideously out-of-date" section, a mere 4 years later.

And yet, I still love my little laptop and would recommend it to anyone. Even though it may be a woefully out of date, and it's not as fast as it could be, and it is no longer under warranty, it still does what I need it to do, and it does it well. Download lots and lots of porn.

The end.

(Ah, shoot. These sound files are also hopelessly out of date, too, aren't they?)

*This update was brought to you by the good people at MST 3K, the geeks that upload sound bytes for the world to use, and by viewers like you.

Totally Random Tuesday

The other day (okay, like a month ago) my cute boyfriend and I went to a Blue Jays' game with some friends. It was cool because they had these tickets for dinner in the restaurant and then really good seats right close to the action and all it cost us was a couple of rounds of ridiculously over-priced beer.

Now, I'm not much of a sports fan and I find baseball boring as hell to watch. But it's fun to go with friends and to watch the spectators, the between-play entertainment, and little kids watching the game and having so much fun. (And if none of that does it for you, may I suggest some ridiculously over-priced beer?)

Anyway, the Jays were playing the New York Yankees. The best thing about this was that there were lots of New York fans to listen to. You gotta love New Yorkers and the way they talk. They like to stir up the Toronto fans by gently reminding us that the Jays suck (like we don't know) and that the Yankees do not. They like to order a lotta beah and eat a lotta hawt dawgs and like that. And they're not shy about telling it like it is.

It was the middle of the, oh, let's say the 7th inning, when all of the rest of my party decided to go for a cigarette break (I'm the only one who doesn't smoke - I will most probably die of lung cancer). I decided to stay in the seats and actually watch the game for a few minutes. Also, I got to watch all of the kids around me get all excited about the 7th inning stretch, and just listen to the people around me, which is always fun in a crowd that size. And I was rewarded with a great sound bite that I have repeated mercilessly ever since.

There was this little kid, I'm guessing he was about 9, and his father was sitting two rows behind me. The little kid was sitting about five rows in front of me in a vacant seat, and I'm guessing his dad told him to go down there to get a better view. But he kept coming back up to ask for stuff and his dad kept buying him things, which is why I noticed him in the first place.

While my friends were still gone there was a fly ball that came right into our section (it was like the third one of the night - I was getting pretty jumpy by then). It came right near the little boy and he naturally tried to catch it. Just then this great, huge man jumped over him and fairly crushed him to get at the ball. All I hear from behind me is "HEY, BIG MAN!! WATCH THE LITTLE MAN THEAH!! GEEZ, YA KNOW!! Did you see that? THA'S NOT RIGHT, YOU WATCH THE LITTLE ONES! Sheesh, he just jumped right on 'im. HEY RALPHIE, YOU LOOK 'IM IN THE EYE, RALPHIE! (at this point Ralphie's head snaps in the direction of the great, huge man who has returned to his seat and is not paying a bit of attention to anybody else, least of all Ralphie). THA'S A'RIGHT RALPHIE, YOU'LL GET 'EM NEXT TIME!"

There are a couple of things that delighted me about witnessing this scene. Firstly, that some people actually still call their children Ralphie. I thought that went out with the 40s. What with all the Ashtons, Dylans, Conners and Bradens infesting the world these days it's nice to know that there are a few good ol' Ralphies around, too. I mean, those new names are fine and dandy, but when the shit comes down who are you going to trust your transmission to when it needs fixing, a Ralphie or a Braden?

Secondly, and more importantly, "YOU LOOK 'IM IN THE EYE, RALPHIE!" is just so damn much fun to say. Try it. Use your best New York accent. Say it with conviction, say it with pride. Say it at your next boring sales meeting, or to the bus driver as you get off at your stop. Repeat it to yourself during step aerobics class, or shout it as a friendly greeting to your neighbour over the fence. "YOU LOOK 'IM IN THE EYE, RALPHIE!" can give you the courage to send that overdone steak back, to ask that cute new employee out, or maybe even to actually look someone in the eye.

"YOU LOOK 'IM IN THE EYE, RALPHIE!" Say it today. Say it for Ralphie. Say it...for you.

Miscellaneous Monday

Hi there, how the heck have you been? Me, I'm still working. And I will be for a little longer than I thought. Initially I was to be here until September 3rd, it now turns out I'll be at this job until at least October 15th. Which means that I thought that in two weeks' time I'd have lots more time to update this thing, but I guess not. Which means that I'm going to get my ass up early every day this week and update before I go off to work. (Guilt posts are always the best, don't you find?)

I don't have anything even close to any kind of theme, though, as I just thought of doing this last night. So I guess I'll just get up and start typing up any damn thing that occurs to me before I have to jump on the streetcar and head to work.

Which reminds me, I'd better get to it.

Last night just before I drifted off to sleep a thought floated through my head (actually, a million thoughts floated through my head, just like every other night, none of them making any sense or making it easier to sleep). In movies or stories or cartoons of the future there are always hovercraft everywhere. Why?

I mean, we've all still got cars, except now they hover instead of roll along the ground. Any machinery that lifts things and carries them around hovers as well. And sure, it's cool and all, I'm not saying it isn't. I'm just saying why? Is there something about the future that requires hovering? Will there be some environmental reason for it, like the pressure of vehicles is somehow eroding precious nutrients in the asphalt or something? Or maybe in the future scientists discover a deadly tread poisoning?

Or perhaps it's all a marketing scheme set up by an evil hovercraft maker (which is more in keeping with reality and is my real guess), and the "Hey Grandma! Buy a hovercraft, bitch!" advertising campaign sweeps the world making wheels utterly unfashionable and therefore, obsolete (in the future advertising is much, much more cutting edge than today).

Hm. Whatever the reason I can't wait for my hovercraft. I mean, riding along on the ground, that's just barbaric, ya know?