If You Can’t Draw, Maybe The ‘Draw Something’ Game Is Not For You

Question: Why do people who can’t or won’t draw something want to play Draw Something?! I’m getting annoyed with people just writing the clues out. They must be the same maroons who shoot video at concerts with a potato and upload stuff to YouTube, where the resulting video clip makes you think you have been slipped some bad acid.

Screen shot 2011-04-04 at 11.45.09 PM

Didyourecordthiswithapotato

Admittedly, the game has some stupid clues sometimes, some of which are irritating pop culture phrases or names, like ”blueivy,” ”ladygaga,” ”bieber,” but, FFS, if we play several rounds and you always just write the damn word out, you are playing the wrong game.

I’m just saying.

Once in a blue moon, I understand someone needs a stupid clue word to earn a badge and has no idea how to draw ”seacrest,” but writing the words each and every time? You people suck, get the F out of my drawing game.

And if you can’t spell and constantly give up because you can’t spell simple words, like trying to spell “stapler” as “stapole,” whatever the hell a stapole is, or if you are seven years old and don’t know what half the words even mean, then you can F off too. You are spoiling my fun! Grr! Argh!

I’m supposed to be relaxing, here. WTF, people. Dammit, do not play drawing games if you can’t even draw a cat, a tree, or a flippin’ stick person. You’re pissing me off. I don’t judge people who aren’t great at art if they at least TRY to draw something. Which is, may I remind you, the name of the damn game in the first place.

Just to prove that I don’t slack off myself, here are a few sketches I did. I can’t show the animations (I like to illustrate verbs by having a character do whatever the word clue says they need to do, and the game shows the steps you take when drawing stuff so you can erase and redraw and such), but I can show the end results. Once I figured out you could save the stupid things, I was on the verge of rage-quitting due to non-drawing slack-asses, so there aren’t many of them:

196318_10100243364113557_193575304_n 73310_10100243364143497_1795270291_n 321487_10100243364168447_245640258_n 19197_10100243364188407_1926690147_n 558191_10100243364233317_686581687_n 397467_10100243364258267_1246300434_n 394825_10100243364273237_58784948_n

Note that 99% of these entries are DRAWINGS.

Incidentally, though most of my opponents guessed well and drew well, SOME of my opponents missed THREE of those clues I shared above, and the game gives you, like, 12 letters to use, lets you know how long the puzzle’s word is, and even gives you a “bomb” tool that removes all the wrong letters. The game also repeats the same clues a lot, especially those for badges. You should eventually figure out some of the weirder ones from context clues.

So I’m extra-annoyed.

How do you fuck up guessing “Kermit”? Does it not look like Kermit? Jesus Christ. I need a drink.

None of you people are allowed to play Pictionary with me, either.

An Entire Cable Channel About GOLF?!

Today I learned that there is an entire cable channel devoted to golf. A whole channel, with golf competitions, Golf Talk, Golf News, and, for all I know, golf ”fashion” shows, golf course tours and travel shows, and golfing sitcoms set at country clubs. Maybe there are even golf movies played every week, with ”Caddyshack” and that Adam Sandler movie I forgot the name of being featured prominently.

I can’t imagine how appealing the Golf Talk shows must be. ”Here’s an old white dude putting a small dimpled ball into a hole. Here’s another old white dude not quite managing to putt a ball into a hole. Here’s a rare minority person, also attempting to hit a ball with a stick so that it goes into a hole.”.

Fascinating stuff.

The most exciting things about golf:

1. Tiger Woods being a jerk, though that forced us all to endure lame jokes like “Tiger is a lion cheetah.”

2. Phil Mickleson being a jerk, whining about paying his fair share of taxes when he earns in a single year about 400x what you or I will earn in our entire lives.

3. The Masters being collectively a bunch of jerks, denying membership to women, and having a weird fixation on boxy jackets in a shade of green not ordinarily seen anywhere unless it is St. Patrick’s Day.

A whole channel about golf. I can’t even.

Baddiwad Foot Commercials Must Die

ERMAGERD, stop showing me manky, flaky, stinky, ashy, horny, lumpy, grubby, disgusting feet in foot care product commercials! CallousClear and PedEgg, I am calling you out. I’m not normally grossed out by feet, but you’re putting my tolerance to the test.

I don’t even know how an able-bodied adult’s feet can get that gross. Do they hire desperate homeless people with crappy shoes to pose for them in exchange for a cheeseburger or something? I mean, you’d think you’d have to be walking practically barefoot on every manner of filth one can find outdoors, and then not have easy access to a shower for weeks on end to wind up with those nasty trotters.

I can’t imagine what the ad buyer was thinking. ”It’s 7AM on Saturday morning, when most normal people are still unconscious in bed. Let’s treat the insomniacs, old people and small children to some real merzky, grazzy, grahzny, strazky nagoy nogas, o my droogies.” That’s a real horror show, not horrorshow at all, my brethren, and not appreciated on an empty tummiwum.

I’m just saying.

These Are Possibly The Weirdest MP3s On the Internet

A few years ago, I stumbled across a treasure trove of bizarre stuff, hosted by WFMU.

Some highlights:

* The recording (referenced by Michael Moore in Sicko) Ronald Reagan made claiming socialized medicine is Teh Evil.

* Sindy Doll (The UK’s answer to Barbie) meets the Dollybeats, her favorite Beat group, and they write a song just for her.

* American Standard (they made plumbing fixtures) present an ode to “My Bathroom,” where the singer can “cream and dream.” Hoorah for unexpected double entendres!

* The collected works of Thurl Ravenscroft (the original voice of Tony the Tiger and the singer of “You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch”).

* A young lady named Katie Lee attempts (but fails) to channel Tom Lehrer with her “psychological damage” theme songs.

* What to do in case of Nuclear War
! (Advice goes into more detail than “Kiss your butt goodbye,” mind you: Build a shelter! Don’t forget extra batteries! You need food to survive! “This is what the alarms sound like…let us play them for several minutes so you can annoy your neighbors when you listen to this record!”)

* How to speak Hawaiian 
(Pronounced “HIGH-why-an” or “High-VAI-an” throughout)! Worst announcer ever. Lots of weird “native” drumming, distorted ukelele playing (ouch), and background singing. Learn how to pronounce a very long word for a particular fish, a word you will never, ever use again. Learn what a “gloy-tel stop” is. It has to be a joke, but it’s funny in spite of itself. The B-side claims to continue to teach HIGH-VAY-an, but is actually a useless How To Speak Arabic lesson, where your first command from the teacher is to say “pork weenie.” Or “corn weenie, really, really” because he changes his mind. “Sing. SING!!”

* Sixty-second remakes of famous songs (Blur, Nirvana, the Beatles, Nick Cave, Gwen Stefani, Britney Spears, Ravel, Brahms, Radiohead, Neil Young, Blood, Sweat & Tears, Shel Silverstein, Grandmaster Flash, the B-52s, The Who / Sex Pistols and several more get the treatment).

* Rare Mott the Hoople tunes.

* Funny MovieFone adverts for Mel Brooks’ “Robin Hood: Men In Tights” and a Hulk Hogan movie (“Mr Nanny”) and more. If you stick it out, the man recording the ads forgets he is on the mic and talks to a co-worker briefly.

* Singing DJs (generally awful), including Rick “Disco Duck” Dees and Wink Martindale (yep, the game show host guy).

* A pre-Velvet Underground Lou Reed project (The Primitives): Do The Ostrich!

* Coyote McCloud and geriatric 80s-era Wendy’s spokesgranny Clara Peller sing a little ditty called “Where’s The Beef?”–so bad, it’s…well, bad.

* Anthony Newley singing something other than “Candy Man.” (I promptly emailed these MP3 files to my ex-boyfriend who does the best Anthony Newley impression ever. He loved them.)

It should frighten me that this ex-BF actually bears a strong resemblance to Newley.

* Edd “Kookie” Byrnes tunes…are you a square or are you “The Skizziest”?

* Vanity pressings of truly unfortunate quality.

* A musical called “My Insurance Man.”

* A video for “Chinese Rocks” by Johnny Thunders and The Heartbreakers “featuring some actual footage of the band performing the song, although the footage isn’t necessarily in sync…but whaddya expect from a bunch of junkies singing about junk?”

* A novelty song from 1979 by Roger Hallmark which was a small hit on radio during the months leading up to the election of Ronald Reagan. Not only was Roger enraged at how “our old friend the Shah” was being treated, he also took the opportunity to toss in a few racist “Ayrab” jabs.

* “Sex and your Son / Daughter” — Released in 1965, these two records narrated by Doctor Sims should (fail to) remedy your ignorance.

* Rare Eugene Chadbourne and Daniel Johnston singles

* DJ Bill Zugat’s Copycats, Imitators and Soundalikes: fifteen songs ripping off a better-known source. Jobriath is featured (Zugat says, fairly, that he ripped off David Bowie and Elton John).

* LOTS of Wedding Singers.

* Dame Barbara “romance novel / poodoo writer” Cartland sings! “In 1978 she swapped pen for microphone when she record her own album of love songs making her the only (albeit distant) member of the Royal Family to have made a record. How the musicians and singers all kept a straight face during the recording is a miracle!”

* Tortura’s Sounds of Pain and Pleasure: “Relax in the twilight of your upcoming evenings listening to the sounds of whipping, beating, screaming, moaning, crying, groaning and laughing. To be listened to by [either] the whip-wielding dominatrix [or] the lonely soul awaiting the next aphrodisiac.”

* Unconventional covers of Glenn Miller’s big band classic, “In The Mood.”

* John Denver’s “Please Daddy (Don’t Get Drunk This Christmas).” Grim.

* Jingoistic pro-military jingles released during the Vietnam War to entice impressionable, patriotic youth to become cannon fodder.

* Recordings from the doomed cultists of Jim Jones’ Guyana retreat, Jonestown, before (happy choir practices) and during their final Kool-Aid quaffing (as Jones melts down into a paranoid, ranting fury and orders the murder of anyone resisting). Pretty sad and awful stuff.

The quality is pretty good, given the sources (mostly cassette, abused vinyl and 8-track), and I have laughed my backside off more than once. This list just names a few of the gems you can find here. Seriously crazy. I’m enjoying the weirdness factor. (I thought I had some crazy crap in my collection, but apparently my standards are too high, even when adopting a pile of crappy vinyl, to get any of this kind of stuff.)

If you check the site out, share your favorite oddities with me. 🙂

If you like this sort of thing, but prefer a more standard musical format, GoogHoo “Crap From The Past” and Ron “Boogiemonster” Gerber. If you have an MP3 editor, you can snip out the occasional ditty that pleases you. WARNING: the show is aptly named! However, he had a Trip Shakespeare track I was starting to think I’d imagined. Now that I have it, that particular ear worm is laid to rest, and I don’t ever need to hear it again. (The production and tune, as remembered in my brain, were better than the real thing. Isn’t that always the way?)

Another place to find rarities, occasionally, is sonicx.com. I found a lot of live Spoon and some amusing Pulp B-sides, including one where Jarvis Cocker asks, “Can I Have My Balls Back, Please?” Some of the finds there are just snippets, but there are some interesting remixes, too.

I used to scour Epitonic, but their new site hates my malware blockers. I probably got all the good stuff from there, anyway. Music blogs are also a good source for rare and interesting stuff, such as 3hive.com (one of my my favourites) and Tuning:Choonage.

This post is dedicated to Jared (Smith), Butcher of Song. If you recognize the reference, you are old and have been online too long.

 

Stuff On My Ferret Dot Com

There’s a Stuff On My Cat website, and it needs competition. I post pictures of my current ferret, Murphy, fairly regularly. Here are some pictures of my late ferret, Mr. Woozle, who moved on up to that dee-luxe ferret apartment in the sky a few years ago, with some stuff on him.

Wahoo! Erin Go Bragh-less!

Ferret porn.

Feliz Navidad! Y Prosperos Anos Felicidad!

A very grouchy Sandy Claws

Party hat!

Mr Woozle and his “sexy American giiiirlfrieeeends,” Fannie and Jane.

Delinquent!


Some Funny ‘Overheard’ Conversations

I love the “overheard in…” communities, even if they make me feel bad about the level of stupidity and oddness going on all the time. No one place is immune. When I was in college, I took a long bus ride home and listened to a fascinating story about a crazy family who lived in a cave in Ohio, were stalked by goats, and threw their kids out of the cave if they mouthed off. The frightening thing is that the storyteller seemed sincere.

The world is a weird, wacky place.

Nobody in New York Knows the Difference between At-Home and Outside Conversations

Yuppie kid: Mommy shaves her hoo-hoo!
Yuppie dad: Okay, honey. Look, do you want your book?
Yuppie kid: I came in the bathroom this morning and asked Mommy what she was doing and she said shaving her hoo-hoo. Mommy shaves her hoo-hoo!
Yuppie dad: Dylan, remember when we discussed at-home conversations and outside conversations?
Yuppie kid: Yes.
Yuppie dad: Well, this is an at-home conversation.
Yuppie kid: Okay, daddy. [Sings to herself quietly] Mommmyyy shaves her hoo-hoooo…
Black lady: See, home conversating, outside conversating — that’s bullshit. My kid says shit like that, I smack him. He won’t say shit like that again.
Yuppie dad: Okay, thank you, but I think our method works just fine.
Yuppie kid: Lady, do you shave your hoo-hoo?
Black lady: Oh, yeah, that shit is workin’ just fine. She’s all kinds of polite.
Yuppie dad: Okay, Dylan, this is our stop.

The subway doors open. A hobo enters, holding a bottle of Windex in one hand and a tube of toothpaste in the other.
Hobo: Which is the better time to read Dostyevsky? Winter?
He sprays the Windex.
Hobo: Or Spring?
He squeezes toothpaste out of the tube.
Japanese girl: Spring!
Hobo: You are correct.

Chick: How come we’re always talking about how the Jews were persecuted? Lots of people have been persecuted. My people have been persecuted, too.
Professor guy: Um…This is “Introduction to Jewish-American Literature.”
Chick: …Yeah, but still.

Girl #1: I’m funny.
Girl #2: No you’re not.
Girl #1: Yes I am. Everyone says I’m hilarious.
Girl #2: Of course they do. That’s because you aren’t pretty.

Guy: I was seeing her for a while, but it just wasn’t working out. I guess I’m not over Jessica.
Girl: What?
Guy: What do you mean, what?
Girl: I thought you were gay.
Guy: Oh, because I’m a hairdresser. How original. Just because I’m a hairdresser you think I’m gay.
Girl: No. I thought you were gay because when I stayed at your house four years ago I woke up and saw you fucking Matt in the ass!
Guy: Oh my God. Matt and I have never talked about that night.

Chick #1: Dude, everyone’s popping out babies these days. JLo, TomKat, Britney. It’s like they’re the new fucking accessory.
Chick #2: Yeah, who wants a fucking baby anyway? You just turn into a fatass with stretch marks and saggy tits with a screaming infant who no one wants to be around.
Very pregnant passenger: I’m due in two weeks.
Chick #1: Aww! Is it a boy or a girl?

Girl #1: Ben’s hot, but I think he’s gay.
Girl #2: No way. Why?
Girl #1: He asked me if my carpet matches my drapes.
Girl #2: … I don’t think he’s gay.
Girl #1: Oh yeah?
Girl #2: Call him up and tell him he can chew on your carpet!
Girl #1: … What?

Middle-aged woman: Tradition brings us all together and makes us feel close.
Twenty-something woman: That’s not the tradition; it’s the Jack Daniels.

Girl #1: As Shakespeare once said: “Thou shall not kill.”
Girl #2: No, that would be God.

Girl on cell: Wait, was this the eating disorder cousin or the crack dealer cousin?…Oh, she’s having a baby? Wow, I hope it doesn’t die.

Kid #1: Paper beats rock. BAM! Your rock is blowed up!
Kid #2: “Bam” doesn’t blow up, “bam” makes it spicy. Now I got a SPICY ROCK! You can’t defeat that!

Guy #1: I’d totally hit that.
Guy #2: Dude, I’d hit that so hard whoever could pull me out would become the King of England.

Mother: Don’t you ever do that again! [slaps child hard]
Child, calmly: Well, are you happy with yourself?

Woman on cell: No, I mean, whatever. I cried for that baby when it died and all. Shit! I even went to its funeral and the damn thing wasn’t even born! Who the fuck has a funeral for a baby that wasn’t even born?…Whatever, that’s not the point. The point is, I’m sure as hell not going to a birthday party for a baby whose funeral I went to a year ago. That is fucking morbid…and they had better not be expecting presents.

Drunk guy #1: What’s the closest star to Earth?
Drunk girl: The Sun!
Drunk guy #2: No… It’s Alpha Centauri.
Drunk girl: I just don’t think I can agree with you on that. Anyway, Alpha Centauri is a galaxy!
Drunk guy #2: Let’s bet on it.
Drunk girl: Okay. But only money. No sexual favors.

Small child, trying a Sprite: I don’t like it.
Dad: If you don’t like the taste, just spit it out.
Mom: I’ve heard that one before.

Older woman: Excuse me, miss?
Younger woman: Yeah?
Older woman: Your veil, your burqa is very beautiful. I didn’t know your people were allowed to wear it in bright colors.
Younger woman: It’s not a burqa, it’s a poncho. I’m Jewish. It’s for the rain. I got it at TJ Maxx.

God Squad lady: Praise Jesus! You won’t be saved without Jesus! You have to start believing in Jesus to be saved! Jesus will always be there for you!
Suit #1: Would it be so awful if we pushed her out when the doors open?
Suit #2: No. Jesus will save her.

Girl #1: So when was your first kiss?
Girl #2: My 17th birthday.
Girl #1: How about your first time making out?
Girl #2: Also my 17th birthday.
Girl #1: …first blowjob?
Girl #2: This is awkward. 17th birthday, again.
Girl #1: How about when you lost your virginity?
Girl #2: 17th.
Girl #1: How about the first time you —
Girl #2: I know what you’re about to ask, and the answer is “my 17th birthday” again.
Girl #1: God damn! What the hell did you do for your 18th birthday?

Chick #1: Omigod, like, if I like your earrings, why should I tell someone else I like your earrings? I should just tell you.
Chick #2: Omigod, I’m just like that too. But really it’s because I love getting compliments.
Chick #1: Omigod! Me, too! It’s the only reason why I say nice things to other people.

Crazy: So I had to get fillings in all of my teeth.
Passenger: Uh huh.
Crazy: But I figured, why let them do that to me after they drilled holes in my brain, ya know?
Passenger: Sure.
Crazy: But I figured, might as well! Although if they were going to fill my teeth, I’d want them to use jelly.
Passenger: Yep.
Crazy: But the guy at the counter said they were out of jelly. So I got a blueberry muffin.

Conductor: This train is very crowded. If you cannot fit, please step back and wait for the next train. If you manage to get onto this very crowded train, look at the person next to you and tell them, “Howdy!”

Conductor, angrily: Yo, stand clear o’ the closing doors o’ my choo-choo!

Slutty girl: My high school history teacher ate my pussy. Then the science teacher. He ate my pussy. Then in college my freshman philosophy professor and my junior year economics professor, they ate my pussy.
Practical girl: You need to put out a Zagat guide to your twat.

Man: It was nice to meet you. Now will you shake my hand?
Little boy: No.
Man: Why not?
Little boy: Because she gave you her number, but she already has a boyfriend! I don’t like that.
Woman: Shut up. That’s not true.
Little boy: If it isn’t, then why did it say “Jason and Trish, together forever” on your phone, when I turned it on right now?
Woman: Together forever, my ass; now shut up!

Second grader: Earth is the greatest planet in the whole world!

No One Knows How To Keep Their Voices Down in the Office, Either

Chick: Nice flowers!
Dude: Yeah, I had a bad day yesterday and treated myself. You ever have one of those?
Chick: Yeah, but I just drink.

Sales guy: I went to a funeral once, and everyone there got a packet of the cremated remains.
Sales girl: That’s a nice parting gift!
Sales guy: Well, we were all supposed to disperse them somewhere. Mine sat on my mantle for about a month. Then I finally threw it away.
Sales girl: You sent the person to the dump?! So wrong! So wrong!

Paralegal to friendly lawyer: I’m sorry, I can’t shake your hand.
Lawyer: What’s your problem? We just saved the firm hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Paralegal: It has nothing to do with that… I’d help to bankrupt an orphanage if it came to it.
Lawyer: Then why won’t you shake my hand?
Paralegal: Sir, I was in the bathroom when you took a shit after the meeting, and you didn’t wash your hands. That’s just disgusting.

Boss: So see if you can find these people’s email addresses.
Intern: …You want me to find Desmond Tutu’s email address?
Boss: Try Google if you get stumped.

Boss: So, is there any other duty that you do on a daily basis that we should include on this list?
Worker: You mean other than miscellaneous bullshit?
Boss: Well, how much time do you spend on miscellaneous bullshit everyday?
Worker: Depending on the day, between 10 minutes and 8 hours.

Worker #1: Stupid fucking Back Office Support people are retarded.
Worker #2: Fuck the fucking fuckers.
Worker #1: Amen…without the sex part.
Worker #2: Heh, their pillow talk would go something like this: “You are the one that is hot, that is what I am telling you now.”

Co-worker #1: What’s a carpet muncher? Is that a new slang for vacuum cleaner?
Co-worker #2: Um, no. He, he, he. I’ll give you a thousand bucks if you ask the boss for a carpet muncher.
Co-worker #1: Why? I don’t have carpeting.

Teller: I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to see The Da Vinci Code. I want to see it, but if I do I’ll feel like I’m. . . supporting. You know?
Bank AVP: . . . Supporting?
Teller: The Devil!
Long pause
Bank AVP: Tom Hanks is the devil?

Suit #1: So, you feeling better today?
Suit #2: Man, I’m never eating Indian again.
Suit #1: Can’t have been that bad.
Suit #2: It’s just not manly to pee out your bum.

You’re Not Safe From Them At The Beach

Boy: Dad, who’s more intelligent? The father or the son?
Dad: The father, of course.
Boy: Who invented the telescope?
Dad: Galileo Galilei.
Boy: Why didn’t his father?

Teen boy to friend: Don’t trust women — they have vaginas. It’s where they keep all their secrets and lies!

Guy on cell: When the freeway ends, turn left…Yes, the freeway ends….Because the continent ends, dipshit.

Mother to father: Oh my! Jerry, say something to that old man. His testicles are hanging out of his swimsuit.
Little girl: I have testicles. They’re in my mouth. [Opens mouth]
Mother: Not tonsils. Testicles!
Father: Seven, and already MTV has ruined her.

Lifeguard on megaphone: Attention, beach-goers, due to the sunset, you must get out in 5 minutes or else we will turn the waves off.
Girl: Oh my God! Is he serious?!

Guy: Hey, beautiful ladies! My name is Sean. I run a company that increases the number of hits your website gets on search engines. I’m sure I could help you in your line of work What do you do?
Woman: I’m a neurosurgeon.
Guy: Hey, it’s good to see that even a brain surgeon has time to head out to the beach. Let me show you how my company can help you get more business.
Woman: I’m sure it can’t.
Guy: Well then, how ’bout I just give you my number?
Woman: How about I just give you a lobotomy?

American: Why did she stare at me like that? Is my accent that horrible? Did I say something wrong?
Japanese-American: Your accent isn’t that bad. But you made the Japanese “fuck you” gesture with your hands.

Beach patrol: Ma’am, I am going to have to ask you to put on your top. This is not a “clothing optional”beach.
Man sitting with topless woman: Leave her alone. She is trying to get a full body tan.
Beach patrol: Sir, I think you are asking quite a bit from the sun.

Chubby twink: The ’80s called, they want their lipstick back.
Chick in black with bright red lipstick: Your boyfriend called, he thinks you’re fat.
Chubby twink runs off crying, chick in black lights a smoke.

Fat lady screaming: Taneesha! Homegirl, get yo’ ass in here and see this! There be more sand up in my vah-jay-jay than the Saharia desert!

Bimbette looking up at cliff face: Hey, do rocks eat other rocks?
Guy: … Huh?
Bimbette: Do rocks eat other rocks? You know, so that they can grow into bigger rocks…
Guy: Are you serious? No, rocks do not eat other rocks.
Bimbette: Then, like… How do they get bigger?
Guy: [Silence.]
Bimbette: Like, what do they eat?

Boy #1: Yeah, it was cool, but that bouncer searched me like crazy. He was patting my thighs and stuff. Security is crazy at that place, huh?
Boy #2: What security?
Boy #3: What bouncer?
Boy #1: You know, that big, fat guy near the entrance.
Boy #2: There was no security dude.
Boy #1: … Then who the hell was that guy?!
Boys #2 and #3 laugh hysterically.

Group of valley girls, giggling: So you’re bisexual, right?
Girl with piercings and multi-colored hair: Ummm… Yeah…?
Group of valley girls: So, what does that mean?!
Girl with piercings and multi-colored hair: Holy shit… Okay, you know what? Go ask your preacher.

Swedish guy: Are you the hippies?
Dreadlock guy: I guess so.
Swedish guy: So, you hippies, do you have the orgies?
Dreadlock girl: Um… We decide that on a hippie by hippie basis.
Swedish guy: Oh, because you say ‘Yes,’ and I sign up now.

Girl #1: Oh, man! So, for Christmas my dad is letting me get my cartilidge pierced! I’m so excited!
Girl #2: Oh, man, that’s so cool! I want to get mine done, too.
Girl #1: Yeah, I’ll only ever get my ears pierced. Everything else is so gross and weird.
Girl #3: Yeah, well, I have my clit pierced — do you think that’s weird?
Girl #2: What’s a clit?

Teen boy: Fucking faggots!
Gay Man: How can he tell I’m gay?
Gay Woman: How can he tell I’m a lesbian? What, do we exude a flamboyantly-homosexual aura or something? Fuck, we’re cuddling with a member of the opposite gender, and people still know we’re gay! Damn, it’s like P.E. class all over again.

The Duh, It Ows, And It Is Everywhere!

Crazy lady: Oh, no! Those teenagers did not just steal my outhouse!

Mom: We can’t have ice cream. You just had candy at the movie.
Little girl: Mom, you are such a gutter-skank.
Mom, flabbergasted: What did you say?! What did you call me?! Where did you hear that term?!
Little girl: Dad.

Blonde to friend: You know that guy I was going out with? He told me he was going out with me because he liked blondes, and I thought, ‘I’m not a blonde,’ but then I remembered I was… But that’s not a good enough reason to go out with me.

Really happy college chick: So many people will die. You know why? The demons are hungry. When you die they eat your soul. They’re hungry and they aren’t happy about it, so people have to die.

Chick: So, what are your irrational fears?
Dude: Well, I’m afraid of that song. You know, the John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt one. I mean, ‘that’s my name, too’? What does that mean?! I mean, think about its larger sociological implications. That just freaks me out.

Beholder: You are not a beholder, buddy.
Non-beholder: Nah, dude. I’m pretty sure I behold.

Drunk guy with pink hat: You guys should totally use chop sticks — it’s so pussy not to.
Hippie, light-heartedly: We’re trying to save some trees.
Drunk guy with pink hat: Do you have any idea how many geese I killed today? 12.

Drunken wedding guest to videographer going from table to table: Zach, I want to wish you and Jenny many years of happiness, and I hope you get as much pleasure out of fucking her as I did.
Other guests at table: Erase that! Erase that!
Videographer: Are you kidding? This is like gold!

Pregnant, tattooed hipster: This is killing me. How can I go without ink for nine months?
Tattooed hipster friend: Oh, I know.

Guy #1: I totally told her I wasn’t with anyone else on my cruise, but I clearly slept with another girl!
Guy #2: Victory!

College dude #1: What are those birds that fucking talk?
College dude #2: Parrots?
College dude #1: No, that’s what my teacher said… Ravens! That’s right!
College dude #2: Ravens talk? That’s like Edgar Allen Poe shit or something.
College dude #1: No, dude, they for real only say like one word, though.
College dude #2: imitating a raven: Aquafina!
College dude #1: Yeah, dude! ‘Aquafina!’ Only I’d make mine say, ‘Radiator.’

Woman #1: How do you spell ‘rarely’?
Woman #2: R-A-I-R-L-E-E… Here, maybe I should fill that out.

Lady with mic: Nothing is more powerful than Jesus! He die; he get up!

Lady hobo: Man, you is the biggest crackhead I ever met.
Giant hobo, muttering incoherently: No, man, I ain’t no crackhead. I ain’t no crackhead.
Lady hobo: N*gga, you smoke drywall!

Young mother to five-year-old daughter: Morgan! Come here! Do you remember that film we watched about perverts? Now hold my hand!

Guy on phone at leather bar: Yeah, I’m at a church social… doing the Lord’s work. I’ll be on my knees later.

Panhandler: Do you have any change? I need money. My old lady kicked me out. I need money for a penis… reduction… It’s too big, and she kicked me out. She said not to come back until–
Man: –No.

Man pushing wheelchair lady, singing: Handicap, handicap, oh handy handy handy…

Bathroom-bound tech woman: Are you following me? Not that many people follow me at my age.
Tech guy: No. I’m more of the ‘call-is-coming-from-inside-the-house’ kind of guy.

Celebrity Stupidity

MBA guy: Did you see that George Clooney’s pig died?
MBA gal: I’ll be his pig if he wants. Oink, oink!

Eminem: Yo, I failed ninth grade three times, but I don’t think it was necessarily ’cause I’m stupid.

California senator Barbara Boxer: Those who survived the San Francisco earthquake said, ‘Thank god I’m still alive!’ But, of course, those who died — their lives will never be the same again.

Anna Nicole Smith on suicide bombers: Why would they do that? Wouldn’t they think it was kind of painful?

PETA on global warming: The most powerful step that we can take as individuals to avert global warming is to stop eating meat, eggs, and dairy products.

Simon Cowell: It’s very fashionable to be in rehab.

 

The Shemp Fight

People sometimes ask why I tend to be a hermit. It’s because I am naturally introverted, but it is also because outings that would be uneventful for most people seem to turn into huge dramas for the people who want to socialize with me. Case in point: A run-of-the-mill lunch ends up becoming a huge ‘shemp’ fight.

Once upon a time, my classmate Eun-Young wanted to talk to me about school stuff over lunch, and she wanted to take me to her “favourite place for Udon noodle soup,” so I loaded her and my laptop and stuff into my car, swung by the house to drop it off (and so she could say “hello” to my pet ferret), and then we headed downtown to Sakura.

The name was ringing a slight bell, and I realized that this was the chain that my old boss once owned and sold, and the guy who bought the old Sakura restaurants was who he eventually sold his last property to while I was working with him.

I detest going Downtown, especially during the week, because parking is always a misery (and expensive) and everything is overpriced, and even though we love and are grateful for our tourists, they drive stupidly. If you want a closer look at a historical building, pull over, for God’s sake. Do not weave all over the road at about 2 mph trying to operate a car and a videocam at the same time. The Baby Jebus hates people like you.

That was the first clue that this might be a Bad Idea: the branch of the restaurant Eun-Young wanted to visit is located in one of the most aggravating areas as far as parking and touron confusion go. The second clue was The Stinky Tree.

We parked, and paid the meter an exorbitant fee, and were assaulted with this weird stench. It was like pepper, and fish, and pee, and curry, and body odor, all mixed together. Was it cooking? Was it a backed-up sewer? Where was that smell coming from? Gah. As we walked away, a stiff breeze kicked up and the offensive tree unloaded a metric ton of pollen and leaves directly on top of my poor car, ensuring that I would smell The Stink for days on end. It lingered, this vile pong. It was a mystery smell, implying edible gourmet food and bodily malfunctions and death on the other. We debated the source of the stink for several blocks, which was as close as we could park to the restaurant, and super fun to walk when in heels and while the temperature was pushing 85oF.

All in all, though, we were excited to have a little Girl Time. The mystery smell was soon forgotten, and when we arrived at the restaurant, we were seated promptly and the food looked good, and only slightly overpriced, which, when compared to the rest of the (grossly overpriced tourist-mugging) Downtown area, is pretty good.

We order. We order Too Damn Much, actually. Our waiter is clearly brand new and delighted at the unusally large tip he anticipates he will get from us. Food keeps coming. I decide, on a whim, to order ebi, which is a type of nigiri sushi: a mostly raw butterflied shrimp atop sticky rice ball. This is important later.

Our waiter is being shadowed by the only other Caucasian on the restaurant staff, a fact which is also important later. They start bringing more and more food, and the training server makes increasingly presumptuous remarks about our order, its size, and our choices, but we shrug this off as an ill-advised attempt to be amusing with customers who are also clearly students.

Eun-Young is served a helping of soup in a tureen the size of a toilet bowl. She can barely lift her arms up high enough to reach over the rim with her spoon and chopsticks. It’s obscenely huge. I got a hubcap full of tempura shrimp and veggies. We also had fried tofu (a big fave of mine, and something I used to eat on a regular basis in Atlanta, and which I have sorely missed), sesame chicken, and gyoza. The first sign that all might not be well in paradise was finding a huge shard of aluminium foil in the chicken. I said nothing, and moved it to the side of my plate. Then the gyoza arrived charcoaled to a cinder on the bottom, and were not the type I’d requested, but I like the boiled and grilled kind as much as the fried kind, so I let that issue go, but I couldn’t eat coal. This was more than I could ignore, so I sent it back, and the kitchen staff, visible from our table, were not best pleased.

Finally we received the bill, and Eun-Young volunteered to pop more money in the meter because I was still eating and she was not. So I reviewed the bill, which was not split per request, and noticed that I’d been charged for ama ebi, not ebi. This was a $2 difference, which was not earth-shaking, and when shrimp sushi arrived at the table, I didn’t notice that it was the wrong shrimp sushi. I’m not a sushi expert. I put my share of the bill in, including a generous tip (because I still remember what it is like to be a waiter, and, even more, what it is like to be the new waiter), waved our waiter down and pointed out the error, and requested that the bill be adjusted to reflect the proper item. He agreeably trots off to ask his new boss to change the bill, and she is instantly furious and refuses, and cusses him out. Er… what?

The poor guy. He slinks back over, tail between his legs, and starts to apologize just as Eun-Young returns and catches wind of what happened. He confesses that he’s sure he hit the wrong button, that he remembers me ordering the ebi, not the ama ebi, and he’s very sorry, but the owner’s wife refuses to change the bill because we ate the more expensive, but incorrect, shrimp sushi. I shrug it off. It’s two dollars! I’m not made of money, but it is not worth my time to argue over a measly two dollars. I made a request, they said no, and as far as I am concerned, the matter is closed.


I want my two dollars!

Lane Myer: Sorry Johnny, I don’t have a dime.

Johnny: Didn’t ask for a dime. Two dollars.

Lane Myer: My little brother got his arm stuck in the microwave. So my mom had to take him to the hospital. My grandma dropped acid this morning, and she freaked out. She hijacked a bus-load of penguins. So it’s sort of a family crisis. Bye! [slams the door shut]

For some reason, getting all bent out of shape over a mere two bucks just seems ridiculous to me, no matter how poor I am. I’m not sure where I got that idea from, but it is fairly consistent of me, personality-wise, not to spazz out over money issues when I’m the one who is owed, and the amount can’t even buy a hungry lolcat a cheezburgar.

Anyway, Eun-Young is upset. This is her favourite lunch spot, and she sort of pressured me to go with her and I didn’t want to spend the money after blowing my budget this month. She is a regular there, and thus she feels attached to it, like it belongs to her. So she apologizes, again and again, and I say, honestly, that is isn’t a big deal, I’ll just not come back to this particular restaurant if they are going to be shortsighted enough to make their (two dollar!) mistake into mine after I’ve spent approximately seven times what I normally spend for a lunch and tipped the waiter an embarrassingly huge percentage of the bill to boot. It’s not located conveniently for me, anyway, and I can’t afford to eat out often, so it is probably a good thing I didn’t fall in love with the place too.

I want my two dollars!

The waiter comes back to the table to collect the money, since he saw me put it in the check holder, but it is not at the table. Eun-Young has marched up to the owner’s wife and there is a lot of pointing at the check and pointing at me and pointing at menus and pointing at the waiters, and this weird Korean-Chinese-English hybrid mostly consisting of punctuation marks and symbols (or it would if life were a graphic novel), and the newbie waiter and I both exchange puzzled looks, and he apologizes profusely again, and I tell him I’m cool with not getting the bill adjusted, and we both sigh a bit and bond a bit, and meanwhile, the arguing is starting to distract everyone in the restaurant as well as people randomly passing by the front door of the restaurant, and I’m not easily embarrassed or anything, but, geez, I have work to do and want to go home. What the heck is going on?

Finally I get up and go over to see why it is taking so long to pay the goddamned bill. I mean, really.

Eun-Young is insisting that because it is the waiter’s error, the restaurant should fix the bill. The owner is insisting that because the stupid gweilo couldn’t tell right away that the wrong type of shrimp sushi was served at the table, and we ate it, we should pay for it. (This is, frankly, my position on the matter. If they had fixed the bill to reflect the mistake the waiter made, great; if not, that’s fine, too. It usually doesn’t hurt to ask. And it’s still a matter of two dollars. My time is more valuable than this.)

Eun-Young, however, is pissed off. She won’t let go of the issue. It is at this point that I am sitting with my head in my hands, wanting more than anything to just leave, already. I put the money in the bill holder twenty minutes ago. My take-away package of leftovers is already packed. I have my car keys in my hand. And a Bizarro World version of a Miller Lite beer commercial is going on, at top volume, in a tiny little restaurant, and it just won’t end.

Eun-Young: It was him mistake, he poosh wrong buttan, he say it he mistake. You should take moneys off.

Owner’s Wife: You eat shemp, you paying for shemp and (Taiwanese dialect of Chinese!!).

Eun-Young: He order wrong thing, it wrong, you stealing our dollars.

Me (thinking): Tastes great!!

Owner’s Wife: We serve shemp, you eat shemp, you paying for shemp!!

Eun-Young: But she say ebi, not ama ebi, and he put ama ebi, and (Korean!) and she not wanting ama ebi!

Owner’s Wife: I telling you, you paying! He bringing shemp, you eating shemp, you paying for shemp!

Me (thinking): Less filling!!

Eun-Young: I coming here all the time, and (Korean!)

Owner’s Wife: I not care!! (Taiwanese dialect of Chinese!!), you paying! Then you go!

Eun-Young: (Korean) and (Korean!!), it not right, (KOREAN!!), ama ebi, not ebi, (Korean? Korean!!) not fair.

Owner’s Wife: (TAIWANESE DIALECT OF CHINESE!!!), (very profane American English slang term), you eating the shemp, you paying for the shemp! Otherwise, you is stealing the shemp!

Me (thinking): Oh God, please make it stop so I can go home.

Eun-Young: I am not try to stealing the shrimps! Just want you to be fair and not make (Korean, Korean), not her fault!

Owner’s Wife: You ated the shemp, so you pay, is our policy! (Taiwanese dialect of Chinese!!) Is final!

Holy crap. This went on for about four months. My hair grew an inch. I began to wish for death (or deafness). All of this over a discrepancy of two dollars.


I want my two dollars!

At this point, my waiter and I are in psychic pain, and the senior waiter decides to insert himself into the argument, but he has no fucking clue what the problem is. He latches on to the Owner’s Wife fussing about “stealing shemp” and decides that Eun-Young is refusing to pay for her meal. He then lectures her, loudly, that if she doesn’t pay her bill, he will call the police. She attempts to explain what the issue is, and as he is actually visibly gleeful that he’s involved in a conflict, he must be that kind of stroppy personality, and so he interrupts her and repeats that if she “doesn’t want to pay her bill”, he is going to call the cops.

Meanwhile, on a $32 bill, there is $48 and change sitting in the bill folder, which is open for all to see.

Eun-Young tries to recall enough English to explain this to the waiter, and he doesn’t even attempt to try to understand her, he just repeats that if she doesn’t want to pay the bill, he will call the cops, and he says this while no more than two feet away from the bill folder, which is open, full of money. Also? The argument is taking place next to the cash register. A desire not to pay the bill is not the issue.

Eun-Young gets frustrated and says that is fine, he should call the cops. The waiter talks on the phone, the owner’s wife talks on the phone, then Eun-Young talks on the phone, which is when I get up again to find out what is taking so damn long and find out that the police are on the phone and are coming to the restaurant.

What the fuck is this nonsense?

Our waiter gets wind of what is happening and has a meltdown and QUITS. He removes his apron, says this whole situation is utter bullshit, he can’t work for a place like this, this is retarded, this is fucked up, he is walking out the door right now. I take his tip out of the folder and insist he take it before he leaves. He finally agrees, and stops by the table to co-miserate with me one more time on his way out the back door, all while tapping a Djarum clove out of a cigarette pack. I idly remark that I smoke the same brand and would much prefer to be having a clove cigarette rather than waiting for the motherloving COPS to come over TWO DOLLARS, and it strikes us as suddenly incredibly hilarious.


I want my two dollars!

He insists on giving me a cigarette, then vanishes. Maybe he had a warrant or something. He was gone so quickly, I would swear he left cartoon dust clouds in his wake.

I go up again to plead with Eun-Young to let it go, but she has her teeth clamped down into a perceived injustice and is worrying it back and forth and refusing to let go. I find myself apologizing to the owner’s wife, and pleading again with Eun-Young to get a sense of perspective about the issue (TWO DOLLARS!! GAH!!), and even sharing that I knew the previous owner of the restaurant chain, and was a former employee of the most recent acquisition of the owner, and knew the original owners (which is true, I babysat for them when their kids were very small), and I tell the bolshy head waiter that I made a request and was okay with it being denied, and it was never a demand on my part. He bitches that Eun-Young made it a demand, and the police were on their way, and then he visibly melted a little and acknowledged that I was not involved in the dispute except tangentially, not that this made me or anyone else any happier.

And, in due course, as I sat, back at our table, shaking my head and moaning quietly to myself under my breath over how loooooong it was taking to get some goddamned lunch I didn’t even goddamned want and really couldn’t afford to goddamn well pay for, a policeman did show up.

And the argument dragged on and on, so up I popped again. “May I nutshell the situation for you?” I asked. The cop agreed. I explained that the waiter misunderstood what I ordered, made a mistake, brought a more expensive menu item, and I asked for the difference back. When this request was denied, I accepted it. The money had been in the bill folder the entire time. (I then pointed at it, and the officer actually noted for his own satisfaction that the bill was well and truly OVERpaid, and all we needed was Eun-Young’s change.) I added that she was trying to do a nice thing, not that I wanted her to or asked her to, and I would very much like to have the argument on my behalf to just stop, already.

Finally Eun-Young capitulated, and then crankily refused to tip the waiter (who had quit, but would be back to pick up his tips and pay later, surely), so I asked the head waiter if our waiter was ever coming back, got a complicated answer that boiled down to “eventually,” and handed over another TWO DOLLARS for his tip, meaning he got tipped about 35% when all was said and done.

I had a serious headache at this point, and was thoroughly sick of my fellow humans, and was delighted to finally get to go home. As we were leaving, our cop and a lady cop were outside on the sidewalk, chatting, and I told them both I was so sorry they had to waste their time with such a petty issue, given that it was never even a remote possibility that the bill was not going to be paid. I added that I was aware that they had far more important things to do than mediate misunderstandings over two freaking dollars.

Eun-Young was completely unabashed about the whole thing, except she felt badly that I’d said I would probably not be going back to her favourite restaurant any time soon. She apologized to me repeatedly, and, to be frank, I was frustrated with her but not particularly angry at that point. In fact, I started to laugh. It was just too ridiculous that an hour of my time was wasted arguing over two dollars worth of ‘shemp’.


Not worth fussing about. Truly.

Also? We successfully determined that the Stinky Tree was responsible for the stench, a fact that explained why we managed to find a parking spot a mere three blocks away for the restaurant. Everyone else was too smart to park beneath the smelly tree. The top of my car still smells a bit like fishy, smoky cheese. Ugh.

I dropped her off at our classroom building, reassured her that we were cool, and still friends, and not to worry about the whole drama-rama, please (LET IT GO!), and finally I was free to go home.

And that was my exciting day! Screw the two dollars. This day sucked.

Of course, I can see the humour in it now.

By the way, ama ebi means “sweet shrimp”, and “sweet shrimp” sushi actually includes the disgusting heads, sitting there looking at you all accusingly, and there is no way I’d order that on purpose, as I like to pretend that shrimp aren’t actually roach-like sea bugs.