Watch Out For Falling Debris
Look out for open manholes, too.
 

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Not All Blogs Will Be A Good Blog

A couple of days ago, I took my dog to the vet for his annual anti-rabies shot. Next day, my dog decided to take his immunization for a spin...on a hapless 8-year old boy. This mini-travesty got me thinking, not one, but three thoughts simultaneously: 1) Had I succumbed to procrastinating any further, I could have a rabid 8-year old guest clawing at my gate that very minute; 2) This was premeditated, the furry bastard's trying to get even; and, 3) What's for dinner. The reprisal from the aggrieved party was not a long time coming. Cruella de Vil saunters up to our gate and, right before my finely-honed instinct for self-preservation could kick in, launches a volley of admonition in excess of the Recommended Daily Allowance.

Grateful that I survived a sparring match with an ogress, that the kid is ok, that there are no lawsuits coming my way, I made up my mind that the next time my four-legged mischief maker fancies another human test subject, the next syringe up his rump would be a trip ticket to dog heaven.


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Monday, April 25, 2005

From Moviegoers to Proofreaders

Sahara and Samara. Both showing at a theater near you. To the uncautious dyslexic who looks forward to seeing Penelope Cruz in an adventure flick with salivary anticipation, you may be ruefully disappointed with the baffling appearance of another kind of brunette -- hot-oiled, vengeful, and clinically dead.


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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

I Agree With The Smiths

"Work is a four letter word."


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Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Herr Pope

Ratzinger. AKA Pope Benedict XVI. Teutonic to the core. So is Volkswagen. And Mercedez Benz. And Albert Einstein. And Rutger Hauer. German Franks, on the otherhand, might be French.

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Dan Brown fans, before you get ahead of yourselves, here's a centuries-spanning skinny of almost all the Benedicts, beginning with Pope Benedict IV, that came, saw and excommunicated...

Benedict IV excommunicated Baldwin II, and started the decline of the Merovingians, alleged bloodline of King David.

Benedict V, "the most iniquitous of all the monsters of ungodliness", raped a hapless waif. The rest is history.

Benedict VI was strangled to death.

Benedict VII used the taxpayer's money to wage war against an antipope. So, what else is new?

So did Benedict VIII, who was eventually driven from Rome.

Benedict IX resigned to marry. He sold the papal office for 650kg of gold. Must be some very hot victorian broad.

Benedict X excommunicated an antipope and got a dose of his own medicine, and then some... was excommunicated, imprisoned, freed, imprisoned.

Benedict XI was poisoned.

Benedict XII went witch-hunting. Not sated, he went against a Catholic pillar of belief, the Immaculate Concepcion. Obviously, he lost.

Benedict XIII, initially called himself Benedict XIV, purely on superstitious grounds.

Now, the true Benedict XIV promulgated many laws which caused many converts to leave the church.

Benedict XV, humanitarian in many ways, but extremely allergic to modernism.

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Then, here's Cardinal Ratzinger as Benedict XVI. This could be proof that there's room for sense of humor at the Vatican. Or something else entirely that my IQ can not adequately handle.


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Sunday, April 17, 2005

It's A Monday Alright

On the way to work. Running late. As usual. Traffic. As usual. I was mentally sorting through my database of unused alibis, when a radio plug for a theme park goes "... And a spectacular pyro-technics display. See this once-in-a-lifetime show every Saturday, 9p.m."


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I Want My MTV

Honestly, when was the last time you actually saw a music video on MTV Channel?


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Thursday, April 14, 2005

Two Weeks In Deep Freeze

"When it rains, it pours" ... and when it pours, it pours like there's no tomorrow, fills up the floodplain, and makes you wish you bought that reconditioned U-Boat instead of the Coca-Cola vendo machine that does not give change. Now, once knee-deep in goo, you're not going anywhere. You stand there, wallowing in misery and pondweed, and wait for a pack of emaciated African Wild Dogs to have their way with you in a most harrowing way. Sushi. To go.

The past two weeks hotwired to work quartered, compressed and nutshelled.

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Last I heard, cloaking technology is still centuries away from being mass-produced and bundled with your favorite breakfast cereal. Que horor!


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Garbage Bin Writing

To make up for lost time, I was about to post quotes from Nikos Kazantzakis' "Zorba The Greek", which would make even the most impenitent uber-sexist blush and lure the most conservative feminists out of their cubbyholes in search of blood. But because I have no wish to live life in a bunker ala Salman Rushdie, I dropped it, and went back to watching a pair of sea cucumbers securing the future of the species on Discovery Channel.

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A couple of days after the junked blog attempt, I received an email from a rocker chick from down under who, in her spare time, reforms sexist bigots into mild-mannered choirboys with a pair of footlong sticks. She believes cussing occasionally like a vintage BB gun is therapeutic. I usually reserve that for Mondays. Or when nobody's looking.

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She admits to frequenting this blog like a neuter-spared tomcat would frequent a certain corner of the house. Or something like that. Bottomline is, she awaits my first published book with "feverish anticipation", no matter how long it takes. Lady, if patience is a virtue, prepare for sainthood.

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If I were to write a book right now, the first chapter alone would probably give any prospective publishers such a bad case of entritis stomatitis that they will all whither and perish with indigestion.




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Previously...
Is It November Already?
Now, Isn't She A Beauty
So, What's New?
Goblins, Rascals, Every Single One Of Them
The Anatomy Of A Rant
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