Act now receive free...

Posted

*looks up from her soap box which is now sporting a nice healty dose of silver glitter*

So are you going to lurk in the doorway all day or are you going to come in? Don't worry I took all my meds this morning so there won't be any trips down the rabbit hole today.

So I was up late last night because I couldn't sleep...I wonder why....could have been the red bull....could have been the cute Canadian keeping me up past my bed time...hehe....

So what I wanna know is...where do the people that come up with the shit they hock on infomercials come up with their ideas? I mean whatever they're on for drugs, I want some. Because you know these people are sitting back in their trailers going ..."Yeah Bertha, we have it made in the shade since I came up with that Grip-n-Flip.*           

I mean seriously, do these people think we can't live without their half wit ideas? Who wakes up in the middle of the night and goes..."Hey...you know, if I combine all these normal everyday things from my fridge with a pinch of Vitamin C and some Gingko, I bet fat people will buy it if I told them I lost 45 lbs taking it twice a day for a month."

First of all...fat people are fat, not stupid.
                               
Should we even talk about the exercise junk they hock?  The false hope...the realities that you really can suddenly go from a size 14 to a size 4! Just by buying their specially formulated food for some ungodly amount of money per week.  First of all...why is a size 14 considered a weight that absolutely has to be changed??? I’m a size 14...thank you very much and have NO desire to ever be a size 4.

Or how about the diet/pills/creams/drinks/whathaveyou and videos they try and sell?? Trim Spa Baby!! Ok and someone should tell Tony Little that the 80's wants his ponytail back. And don't you think that all this scientific testing on these exercise machines is wasted scientific work force?? Can't we put them to work on like curing bovine cancer or something???

I’m waiting for the day I’m watching late night tv and I come across the infomercial for “Weight Loss - The Old Fashioned Way.”  And there sits a woman who is eating well thought out and prepared meals, balanced foods that are good for her, something prepared by her own hand and not out of a UPS delivered box.  Cut to a scene of her heading to her local gym to participate in an aerobics class.  Cut to the hosts of the infomercial.... “With our patented old fashioned weight loss system there will be no overhead costs, no home delivery of freeze died packaged foods, no diet drugs that will leave you jittery and hungry, no chalky shakes or disgusting bars....just good old fashioned SELF CONTROL.”

When did we really stop taking responsibility?

Anyways....I’m sort of off topic here....back to infomercials in general....

However, that does not negate the fact that they get sucked into a infomercial reality at 2am. Come on...we've all done it.

At some point in life we've all sat up and watch Richard Simmons hocking his Sweatin' to Punk Rock video and gone..."Hmm...maybe...."

So, I wanna know how this whole thing works. Do you just call some various infomercial hotline? Is the number in the phonebook or do you have to call the local hotel to request the number? "Good evening and thank you for calling the Stupid Ideas Hotline, this is Cammie, how can I help you?"

And who figures out that they can get great abs in 8 minutes? Wait...maybe after you have great abs it only takes 8 minutes a day to keep them, but I doubt that any normal schmoe can get great abs in just 8 minutes a day. If it was possible don't you think there would be less occurrence of "Oh my god Becky, look at that gut...it is like so big..." "Yeah girl and what's worse, she has a belly ring."

Ok...and how about the random videos they try hocking in the middle of the night? Who buys these things? Isn't it cheaper to look for tits and ass on the internet at 3 am??? Yeah...let's buy a video of perhaps underage girls flashing the camera and making out with other girls. Brilliant. Fuckin' Einstein.

Let us take the King of the infomercial world, Mr. Ron Propeil. How many various "Set it and Forget it" appliances is he going to invent? I'm really waiting for the Propeil Vibrator. "Set it and forget it!!" At least it would be true to form.

What's worse is...the Food Network has a documentary about this man's life. Yes...his life....inventing kitchen cluttering items that you'll use once and then sell in some random yard sale when you get sick of watching the same GGW video and eating mac and cheese. Because you know...having a kitchen sized rotisserie for those late-night chicken cravings is simply essential to life. Maybe they'll make a dorm sized one for college kids.....mmmm.....chicken.

How about that Magic Bullet thing that's like a blender, but not. I thought the Magic Bullet was an unsolvable physics problem...or a vibrator I once saw (and thought about buying) out of the back of a magazine. Oh well. Ever noticed how excited these people are about blended fruit??? And who the hell makes an omelet like that?? How lazy...just beat the damn eggs by hand..less hassle...less mess...and my ham and cheese isn't in a million untastable bits.

Ok...moving right along...

How about the Pasta Pot...or whatever the hell it's called. First of all, it's called lazy. Second of all, what the hell is the point? I'd be more concerned that the damd lid wasn't on right and would pop off in the middle of draining my pasta and burn me. Or, worse...drop my damn pasta in the sink. Thanks, but I'll be keeping my $0.88 old fashioned plastic blue strainer I bought at WalMart in college.

Ok...how about the mother of all infomercial inventions? The Clapper. Yes, ladies and gentlemen the epitome of laziness. But what's even better, is that they're still using the same commercials they originally made in the 80's/early 90's. Same old woman, same pesky TV station gone to snow, same aggravated clap in the middle of the night. I say let's update this commercial. Let's instead have a couple going at it while watching a porno (maybe a Girls Gone Wild video) and in the middle of really getting into it the bed starts to bang the wall, turning the TV on and off. And wait...let me go back to the original thought for a moment...when did TV's stop going to snow in the middle of the night? Like it was the ultimate to get stay up late enough to see a station actually go off the air...now, we're just stuck with crappy infomercials.

How about the newest Febreeze invention? The Scent Stories. WTF? I'm not even sure I can begin to talk about this...One for laughing too hard, and two for not even understanding what the fuck this invention is. And what was up someone's nose (literally) that cause them to come up with this idea??? I mean...did someone snort a good line of coke and then go..."You know...I could totally go for some mountain air right now and then a romp through a country meadow."

Ok...sidenote...who the hell thinks that "mountain air" smells like that anyways???

Ok...and that brings me to the woman who hocks this stuff. I have no idea what her name is, but you all know who I'm talkin' about. She's short, she's round and she's a redhead. She's on that new commercials for the Grip n Flip, which of course comes with the Scoop n Strain and some other thing they probably have 9870987324 boxes of that they need to get rid of.

But how do you land a job like that? Do you wake up one morning and go...god I could totally sell useless shit to people all over the world.

I suppose above and beyond the stupid shit people invent, is the stupid shit people buy. Cause you know people are buying this stuff. And you know you've been sitting home alone on some Tuesday night at 3 am and you're watching TV when an infomercial comes on and you hesitate for 2 seconds too long to change the channel.......ad you're hooked. It's like a train wreck...you don't wanna look...but you wanna look...and then you can't help but stare.

But anyways...you know you're watching these commercials...going..."Hmmm...I could really use that." And a few times you've even reached for the phone and your credit card and then better judgment gets the better of you and you gently cradle the phone back in the base and side your Visa/Mastercard/Discover/Amex/Diner's Club cards under your leg for safe keeping.

Ok...one last thought...

How about the music they sell on TV these days??? Musicspace...please die. And I know that EVERYONE reading this has at one point or another seriously thought about buying one of these TV albums. But holy mother of Christ, are they expensive enough????? I can go down to my local WalMart (ok...its an hour away...eat me) and buy all the albums to make that ONE album for about 1/3 the cost. And at the same time pick up kitty litter, duct tape, a socket wrench, and a yard of pink ribbon. And just how many "NOW...that's what I call music" albums are they going to make???

NOW...that's what I just call stupid.

*pushes the play button on her Scent Stories*

Ok...if you'll excuse me I have a date with Bobby Flay, a bottle of pancake syrup and a spatula....

Toodles.

Rapunzel...Rapunzel...

Posted

Plop

*stands at the bottom of a tower and shouts upward*

Rapunzel!!!! Yo...bitch.....Hello.....Excuse me?!?!?!

*kicks a rock against the tower*

So having two beautiful daughters makes you do a lot of thinking.  You worry so much that you'll not make them understand that she's more of a person than any Cosmo will ever allow her to be....and you look so hard for "good" role models, but Margaret Thatcher, Marilyn Monroe, and Mother Theresa are a little bit out of their league at the moment.  So you end up in the two dimensional world with the Princesses and the Fairy God Mothers and the evil step sisters....et cetera...et cetera....

Something I will never get...Why do we set girls up for failure? Why does a man have to rescue me? Why can't I rescue myself? If Rapunzel had been taught to be independant...she could have just cut her hair off, tied it around a bedpost and climbed down all on her own and just plopped to the ground on her own two feet. And she would have had a great short coif...

But no. No...instead she is helpless. Locked in a tower and helpless. I suppose we all have our towers, but christ....I'll be damned if some man is going to speed up with his 520 horses and expect me to just jump in the back and go speeding off into the sunset. And my luck...he'll have shitty music on the radio...And be wearing a Yankee's t-shirt.

And then where will I be?

I wonder what ever happened to Rapunzel after she was rescued from her tower. Maybe she really liked the tower. I'm sure after spending as long as she did there that she had it all decorated the way she wanted it....I can imagine it was a comfortable spot. She was probably a writer and thinker of great things. She probably took correspondance courses and had a million degrees lining her tower walls. Of course those would be cluttered in with her various pieces of artwork bought off of Ebay over the years and her various posters of Einstein and the Beatles.

I can picture Rapunzel sitting on a chaisse lounge with her tattered copy of the Complete Works of Emily Dickinson and a dog-eared copy of Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk ...ESPN on the TV in the corner....and piles of CD's would litter the floor. Along with many many  empty Aquafina bottles, microwave popcorn bags, and Welch's Orange Pineapple juice bottles....

I'd also say that Rapunzel is probably a speed addict....and perhaps even has one too many glasses of red wine at dinner. She belongs to an AA Blog...where she laments her habits with other women locked in towers of their own making.

She's hasn't checked her mail in months and the UPS guy has been there so many times that he calls her Zel and asks her how her cat and her mother are doing. She doesn't do much shopping other than the catalogue shopping she does...and she's an Ebay-aholic.

*looks up the tower again*......Rapunzel.....*laughs*

Raputa!!!! Raputa the beauta!

Maybe Rapunzel is a J. Geils Band fan......*shrugs*

*picks up a rock and writes on the outside of the tower*

Your hair is not a rope.
not braid-coiled, silken stranded
strans uncoiled
for victim to become victim
of the mailed fist
binding the braid
you bear the weight
of the climb that overtakes
your head

wear your hair
braided with poppies
swirled with pearl pins
dipped in nectar
let your lover breath the scent
unpin the swirl
sift the strands like lifted honey

wear your hair
sheared and studded with feathers
crouched, tensed for flight
over the summit of your head
let your lover feel the wind-burn
of your wings
the granite
of your features

wear your hair
scaled and spiked
armored with wire and darts
tinged with poison
let your lover see the danger
smile from the distance
be wary to stroke your feet

your hair is not a rope....
Rapunzel....
let no one climb you....

*drops rock next to the tower.....plucks a scarlet begonia from the garden...sticks in her hair*

LOL...Why I love my job...

Posted

So after I got done counting beer bottles...and measuring liquor in bottles...and blah blah blah....I sat at the bar to talk to my full time bartender and have a drink.  (Subsequently I invented a new drink tonight...One which I shall from now on call "The Wide Awake Drunk." Go ahead...ask me for the recipe.)

So...I'm sitting there when one of our regular guests in the hotel starts to tell jokes.  Now mind you this guy is burnt out of his mind on Cap'n and Cokes and Zanax (nice, huh?)...so he's telling jokes....and I now have a new favorite joke....and it goes something like this...

Get your "LOL-Hats" on kiddies...

Three nuns died and went to heaven.  As they're standing at the pearly gates, St. Peter says to them..."Sisters you have lived such a righteous life that we're going to let you return to Earth and live as anyone you want for 6 months."

The first nun says she wants to be Madonna....POOF...she's back on Earth.

The second nun says she wants to be Britney Spears...POOF...she's back on Earth.

The third nun looks at St. Peter and says..."I want to be Sarah Pippaline."

St. Peter looks perplexed and says, "I'm sorry sister, I'm afraid I don't know who Sarah Pippalinie is."

The nun says, "Oh c'mon you know...Sarah Pippalinie, " and reaches for a newspaper.  She holds the font page out so that St. Peter can read the headline.

St. Peter shakes his head and says..."Oh sister, I'm so sorry...that says "Sahara Pipe Line laid by 700 men in five days."



C'mon on now...you KNOW you laughed.  Fuck. I did.

LOL

Knock Knock...

Posted

Knock Knock

*Taking a sip from her bottle of Aquafina, she turns and looks at you and wrinkles her nose.*

What's with the phrase "Opportunity only knocks once?" Who is this "they" they speak of when they say "Well you know what they say, opportunity only knocks once."

Is that like MENSA? Some sort of round table of geeks that sits around and makes decisions about how many times opportunity is meant to knock?

Maybe, they, is really a THEY.

Totally Hip and Energized Youth

Anyways...back to my original point. "Opportunity only knocks once."

Who did the study on that? Is there a case study regarding this finding? Perhaps they paid some students at Berkley, Cornell or Notre Dame to study this phenomenon.

Maybe opportunity really rings the doorbell. Maybe it rings the doorbell then runs!!

Maybe it sits in the driveway and honks the horn, but you never went out to see how it was because you didnt know anyone with a 1976 Chevy Malibu painted mustard yellow with red spray painted flames.

Maybe it calls, but with the advent of caller id and telemarketers, no one answers the phone. "Good evening this is Brian with Opportunity Knocks Investments..." *click...buzzzz*

You see, the Opportunitys are really a family of four. Rather white, rather middle class, and struggling to make a living in Kansas. There's Bob, the dad; Betty, a stay at home mom; Thadeous, a college drop out; and then there's Charlotte, a stripper.

Charlotte happens to be the Opportunity from which the phrase, "that opportunity fell right into his lap" derives. Her stage name happens to be Lucky.

Anyways, back to poor Bob.

Bob is a traveling salesman. Selling what you might ask, but really, no one knows. You see, he only knocks once.

Mr. Opportunity doesn't have all day to stand around knocking on your door, so he simply knocks once and then moves steadly on. He has a family to feed and time is money. If people weren't so lazy and actually got up to see who was at their door, they would have had the dubious honor to have met Mr. Opportunity.

So the next time you hear a faint "knock knock" on your door, get up off your lazy tookus and answer it because the Saved by the Bell reruns will be there when you get back.

Please pass the glitter....

Posted

Crunch

*looks up from her craft table holding a glue gun in her right hand and pink spray painted elbow macaroni in her left*

Oh hello!! I didn't see you come in, how nice of you to come by...

So you're here for some punishment huh? *carefully places another pink elbow on the cardboard box in front of her on the table*

*whistles for a moment then sings out...."If you can't beat the one you love honey, love the one you whip..."*

So what I wanna know is...what's the point of the silent P? Take for instance....*pulls out flip board*....the word, Pneumatic. Does the P add something that I am simply just missing? Or let's look at ....*flips the board* ..... the word, Pneumonia. Now, there are some geographic locations where this "p" is not silent at all, and instead the word becomes, pamoanya. But, I ask you this, what does the P add? Does the word "neumatic" just not have the same literary strength as pneumatic? And what if the two words meant something differnt...

"Bob...can you hand me the pneumatic nailgun?"

"Umm, Bill is that the pneumatic one, or the neumatic one?"

"Huh Bob? What are you talking about?"

See....my point is, does it make a difference? Does it matter if Lucy has pneumonia or neumonia?

And what about the silent K? What is the point of ka-nowing anything? And if there is a now and a know, what about a pnow?

"Get me a beer pnow!!!"

Or what if we just added silent letters to whatever we chose....

"I said pno god dammit!!!...P...N....O....pno!!!"

Or how about Saraq....Sara with a silent Q. Yes, I think I like that.

And that brings me to my last and final question. Would the word "talk" be considered onomatopoeia? Webster defines onomatopoeia as "1 : the naming of a thing or action by a vocal imitation of the sound associated with it (as buzz, hiss); 2 : the use of words whose sound suggests the sense." (Please see www.m-w.com for further information.)

So therefore by all colloquial definitions, "talk" is onomatopoeia. Cause when you say the word "talk" you are vocally immitating the sound associated with talking, right? Exactly, I agree.

So that leads me to one more point. (I know what I said before, but this is MY space, not YOUR space....don't like it? Leave.)

Is the word onomatopoeia, onomatopoeia?

I'll leave you with that contemplation...*carefully picks up hot glue gun again and carefully lays a final pink macaroni onto the box, leans back considers her work and smiles to herself*

*looks up at you still standing there watching*

What??? You've never seen a girl decorate her soapbox before????

*pops one of the pink spray painted macaronis into her mouth and chews it*

Haha...crunch.