Archives for February 2004

You want coffee with that?

on February 27th, 2004

Recently seen on the menu of a fair-grounds mobile eatery trailer:

Coffee 1.10
W/Cheese add .75
W/Chili add 1.00

I’ll take 1 chili-cheese coffee please.

This website is not a toy.

on February 25th, 2004

Every once in a while it appears as if the safety compliance departments of certain companies are staffed by cartoonists who haven’t been able to land a steady series on the sunday cartoon pages.

Next time, don’t invade the Faulklands.

on February 24th, 2004

me: I’m not sure I want to live here anymore.
someone: me neither
me: I’m thinking of moving to New Zealand.
me: They’ve got sheep… and I’ve got no sex life.
someone: HAHAHHAAA
me: It’s a match made in heaven…
me: Except for the bestiality portion of it.
someone: i’m very scared….
someone: …for the sheep
me: I guess that wouldn’t be made in heaven.
me: Unless heaven is run by bestiality-types.
me: In which case it probably is a match made in heaven.

Your royal heebeejeebeeness.

on February 23rd, 2004

Legend, or maybe more than legend, states that it was the Earl of Sandwich who brought the Sammich to us. I wonder if I could change my name so that I was the Earl of Sammich. But that makes me wonder about the Duke…. duke…duke, Duke of Earl. Does the Duke Duke Duke Duke of Earl have royal authority over the Earl of anything?

Surreal Radio

on February 11th, 2004

It is odd when switching from one radio station featuring excerpts from the frightening concept show “The Surreal Life” to another doing a feature on the history of Voodoo during the point where they’re describing an animal sacrifice.
Odd, but also somehow appropriate.

Dude, where’s my bat?

on February 10th, 2004

I had a dream last night that I was back in school on a field trip… Ashton Kutcher was in my class and seriously annoyig me. Annoying me to the point that I had to repeatedly beat him with a bat. I don’t know why I had a bat.

1 Serious comment

on February 10th, 2004

To “Her”:

In my mind, the way everything works out is supposed to be like a movie. Obiously what is happening right now would be similar to coming up on the end of a really depressing movie. Maybe the audience of our movie doesn’t get to know if the Woman in it learns anything from this situation or not… if there is anything to learn, but instead the story goes on like it has to. Maybe during this scene the daughter’s emotions are what the story is really about. And this is the point where there’s supposed to be the touching few scenes at the Atlantic Ocean, and then the credits roll and people get up while others sit and quietly cry. But this isn’t a movie, and these emotions aren’t a parable or a lesson and there isn’t a moral to this story. This is what is. And that’s what we have with each other, all of us. What makes you better than any heroine in any screenplay that time has or ever will provide, is that the person in the theater quietly crying is you; in spite of everything that has happened you can mourn her now and when the credits finally roll.

My thoughts are with you.

Like a series of little Russian women one inside the next… I mean dolls, not women.

on February 4th, 2004

It is very satisfying when items comes in packaging made from the item enclosed. Boxes packaged in boxes, paper packaged in paper, etc. I don’t think I’d want to see things like pork products packaged in other pork products. Or condoms. Especially lubricated condoms.

Hole big enough to put what through?

on February 3rd, 2004

Spontaneous decision of the day? When I saw a sleeve hole in a shirt large enough to put my head through, that was what I did. Assert yourself, it’s fun.

Testosterone Be Damned

on February 3rd, 2004

If you know someone for long enough you end up learning interesting quirks about them. I can’t touch cottonballs, they make me cringe…. even typing this was tough to do… ewwww cottonballs.

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