By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | November 8, 2010 |
By Figgy | Eloquent Eloquence | November 8, 2010 |
And we’re back!
Sorry about the lack of a column last week. Things went crazy, what with a horrible week at work, then a fantastic Halloween party (with the awesome Snuggiepants!) that took about three days to recover. And by the time I realized I had to write my column I only had about 3 comments saved up and had about, oh, 500 posts to catch up on and I knew I wouldn’t make it. So apologies for that, but we’re back full force this week and I won’t fall behind again. For at least another week.
It’s November! Dallas seems to have finally got the hint and it’s been getting progressively colder, so much so that I’ve had to bring out my beloved winter coat to deal with the 38F cold at 6am when I have to leave for work. Of course, this place is kind of schizo and I end up carrying my coat home on the train which is a pain in the ass, but at least I don’t turn into a popsicle while standing at the bus stop. Oh, yes, talk of weather and public transportation, I am A THRILLRIDE OF EXCITEMENT here, no? Aah, shut up. Like anyone ever feels like being funny on a Sunday. I just want to go and make my lasagna before everything descends into the gloom of the Sunday blues when I realize I have to go to work again tomorrow. Fuck this being-an-adult thing. I want to lounge around some more and have grapes fed to me by Cabana Boys. I should start a Let’s Make Figgy a Millionaire Fund. I figure my honesty could get me, oh, maybe a dime per person. Maybe? Hell, I’m rambling. It’s all the leftover Halloween candy, plus the laziness and whatnot. I could blame the time change, too, because why the hell not? One hour back and I’m all discombobulated and aaaah squirrels on the ceiling! Etc.
Anyway. Here is your supersized list (yay, 3 more!), because I’m feeling contrite and generous with you lot. I don’t think anyone who saw it the first time will be surprised by our number one this week, but the rest is quite spiffy as well. Enjoy!
13. Sheryl f’n Crowe butchered Kid Rock’s song so badly I wondered who would pay for her concerts let alone date her and ask her to duet a couple years later.
I … I don’t even know what to think of this statement. I wasn’t aware that a Kid Rock song could be butchered any further than it already had been when performed by the original artist. I mean, how much further can you butcher rancid ground cow bung? —admin
^ Apparently you can blend it, mix it with some chemicals and serve it as a cocktail that burns the insides. —e
[That last part is how I feel about anything that Sheryl Crow has ever done.]
12. I’m always taking bodices apart. Usually while getting photographed for the cover of paperbacks. Sometimes on weekends. Everyone needs a hobby. —Optimus Rhyme
[You’ve got the Ladies of Pajiba all a-twitter now, OR.. Not my fault.]
This next one’s about that monstrosity of a new show where they give future brides plastic surgery right before your wedding. Nothing’s sexier than marrying a completely different person than you intended, right?]
11. They’re going about this all wrong.
They SHOULD have wives in 10 year marriages competing for plastic surgery as the husbands compete for the chance at a full-time personal trainer and a shitload of HGH and anabolic steroids. They compete as teams in grueling competitions that bring out the worst of their built-up resentment for each other. The losers have to get divorced immediately, and the winners get their makeovers. OR, OR, OR, I KNOW!!!! They all compete individually so that only one person gets the prize, then a spin-off reality show can follow the couple as the newly-hottened one explores their sexiness and the still-hilariously-ugly one gets jealous as fuck.
They can call it Extreme Makeover: American Marriage Edition.
Shit, get Fox on the phone. I’m gonna be rich. —Kballs
10. I’ll be Sheen’s sober coach! Every time he looks at coke or hookers I’ll punch him in the throat. Also, I don’t care if it’s effective on his sobriety or not. —Paultera
[YES, I applaud this method and believe it should be applied to more people. Like, say, kicking Lindsay Lohan in the groin every time she wants to leave the house, unless it is to go to school or do something useful for once.]
9. I ate pancakes today. I wasn’t going to but I did and they were fluffy and delicious. I’m glad I ate pancakes. —BarbadoSlim
I’m happy for you B’Slim. I made hummus for me and my younger kid. It’s all gone now, but we’re happy and satisfied. —Reba
God bless you and your family. —BarbadoSlim
What the fuck? —Scully
[Yeah…that was all kinds of weird.]
8. The GW Scale of Emotions:
9/11 attacks - discombobulating
Afghanistan and lack of Bin Laden - disconcerting
Iraq and lack of WMDs - distasteful
Hurricane Katrina - distressing
a typical Kanye rant - devastating —cinekat
[Imma let you finish, but my rant was the hurtiest rant in the history of the WORLD. Yes, I pulled out that joke. Shut up. Also, extra points to cinekat for using the word ‘discombobulated’. It’s one of my favorites.]
7. And in the crypt of St. Patrick’s cathedral, the ossified remains of Jonathan Swift just barfed. No swimming in the Liffey today: 300 year old puke seeping into the river. —PaddyDog
6. “Dover’s Bend” [fictional town in…some new movie or another.]
Established in 1854 by founders Benjamin Dover and Robert Bonnet. —Solamente
[Hee. I love jokes for 10 year olds. Amanda Hugankiss, anyone?]
5. No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong. A member of my playgroup’s friend’s cousin’s daughter is in the cabbie’s son’s class, and she noticed that he’s started using name brand mustard on his ham sandwiches. So clearly the cabbie has been paid off to shut him up, and Wolverine will not not not not be in First Class.
She also reports that the cabbie’s son has cooties, so I think that means Wolverine will appear as the school exterminator, a radical shift in character development. —McSquish
[From the post about Mel Gibson’s new movie about a dude with a beaver puppet]
4. “…Please treat him as you normally would, but address yourself to the puppet.” —Ooooookie Dokie….
Omigawd! Hey you there…beaver! Look out behind you! There’s a mega-bigoted, ass-rag, fuck-wad of an actor sneaking up on your six! He’s a batshit crazy racist I tell you! He’ll hate the fuck out of you! And if he doesn’t do that first. he’ll probably fist you like a drunken longshoreman…and… oh dammit all…too late. —bleujayone
[From the post about the new trailer for Martin Lawrence’s (argh my arch-enemy) Big Momma’s House 3]
3.Oh come on, it can’t be…
The minotaur will come for you at midnight. Gouge out your eyes so you may not look into the darkness of the human soul. He screams with the tongue of lies, and he will drag your soul into the madness that has always been inside of you. YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE MINOTAUR FOR THE MINOTAUR HAS BEEN YOU ALL ALONG. THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT WILL NOT HIDE YOU FROM THE ONE WHO WILL JUDGE YOU. IT WILL NEVER BE YOUR BIRTHDAY AGAIN. BOW BEFORE THE MINOTAUR AND PRAY HE TEARS YOUR SOUL APART FIRST.
… Sorry, don’t know what happened there. Hey, why are all the walls bleeding? —Jeremy Feist
[hee. It’s like something out of Treehouse of Horror.]
[Next…it’s conversations like this one that make me love this job]
2. I’m sure you know that the common cold (AKA the flu AKA the influenza virus) is a virus that’s constantly mutating and changing. Basically a virus is a tiny bit of genetic material (DNA or RNA) surrounded by a protein coat. It’s also why it’s been so difficult to cure the HIV virus. The protein coat mutates faster than the antibodies in your bloodstream can recognize it.
So if this process works and they can cure the common cold, those Cambridge scientists will be getting paid in virgins and Hennessey.
I’ll tell you next time why cancer’s been so tough. —Fredo
What is the conversion rate for Virgins and Hennessey to Daniel Craig and La Maison du Chocolat? —Mrs. Julien
You have to take the elements separate. Hennessey to La Maison du Chocolat? Probably a 1:1 or even a 2:1 conversion rate depending on your preference of tasty beverage.
Where it gets difficult is in the Virgins to Daniel Craig conversion? Here’s where the investor can make a big increase on his or her investment. How much is Daniel Craig worth to you? A busload of (18-year old and legal ) high school virgins? A Heaven of 72 virgins from all over the world? All the virgins in Castle Anthrax who are experts in disrobing, bathing and demand spankings?
Conversely if you have a gaggle of virgins, how many are you willing to part with in order to get Daniel Craig? Would you buy outright for a large amount or just lease Daniel Craig at the rate of 2-3 virgins a month? Maybe even add an option to buy Craig once you’ve spent more than 80 virgins.
It’s all in how badly you want Daniel Craig. —Fredo
[And this…this is just…beyond]
1. Since I cannot espy another earnest Son of Saint George to sully forth and illuminate us through well-intentioned Ad Lib,
I step forth, with no less determination in my heart than Pheidippides, so haste to spread the spirit of victory that it hath burned the yarns of his very fate.
Once more unto the breach, dear cyborgs, once more;
Or close the wall up with our 3ngl1sh deactivated.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes an android
As modest programming and circuitry:
But when the blast of war blows in our audible sensors,
Then imitate the action of Grimlock;
Stiffen the hydraulics, summon up the energon,
Disguise fair nature with hard-programm’d rage;
Then lend the optic screen a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the processor of the hivemind
Like the brass rail gun; let the brow o’erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth C-3P0
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base of operations,
Swill’d with the Borg and wasteful interwebs.
Now set the lightsabers and stretch the carbon fibers wide,
Hold hard the binary and Bender up every sin wave
To his full height. On, on, you noblest 3ngl1sh.
Whose nuclear fusions are fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Isaac Asimovs,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought
And sheathed their Sentinels for lack of system BIOS:
Dishonour not your motherboards; now attest
That those whom you call’d previous downloadable versions did beget you.
Be copy now to sentient constructs of grosser metals,
And teach them how to war. And you, good T-1000,
Whose limbs were made in 3ngl2nd, show us here
The mettle of your positrons; let us beep-bop-beep
That you are worth your assemblies; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your peripheral cameras.
I see you stand like Cylons in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot:
Follow your OS, and upon this charge
Cry ‘Optimus for Harry, ED-209, and Saint Gort!’ —D-Day
I mean, seriously, anyone else read that comment and didn’t expect this one to win? How silly of you! It’s got everything we love! Literary foofyness, rhymes, Shakespeare, cyborgs. A perfectly tasty Pajiba pie. So congratulations, D-Day, you’ve done it again. I think. I can’t imagine that you haven’t won before. But this could count for about 10 wins or whatever. As a prize, I could give you a coupon for $2 off your next can of engine oil! It’s topical! OK I might not have a coupon, but it’s the sentiment that counts. Anyway, congratulations.
That’s it for this week. Enjoy the upcoming week and start counting the days until the NEXT all-you-can-eat fest—I mean holiday. I love this country.