Thursday, September 27, 2007
One of the little Mother Cluckers (the Hens. I just wanted to be slightly risque) is currently jamming out to whatever Lite rock station she found on the interwebs.
So far I have been subjected to...
Richard Marx - Hold On To The Night
Lee Ann Rimes - How Can I Live Without You
Chicago - You're the Inspiration
some cover/remake of Ain't No Mountain High Enough
Kenny G - I do not know the name of that one damn song that was popular, but I know I hate it
Luther Vandross - Dance For My Father (Dance With My Father? Whatever the hell the song is they released after he died)
It isn't going to end anytime soon. But I have had my own little modicums of revenge. I made chili last night (I might have mentioned that yesterday, but after 15 posts, I cannot remember any damn thing I put out there). I have been percolating all night and all morning. And this morning I have ripped about 7-8 little stink bombs that I have dropped all around the office, making sure to leave them in enough places that no one can be completely sure who the culprit is. But I know for a fact that my chair is branded now.
Taste my wrath bitches! (and taste my dinner too!)
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
But that picture is TOO DAMN FUNNY.
Right now I am sitting at the computer (WARNING - OBVIOUSNESS ALERT!) at home, waiting for Wifey to come home from shopping (apologies to C3PO the Translator Lawyer Droid for leaving him high and dry without any backup tonight). Wifey had to go shopping to get the remaining pieces for her outfit for the wedding of Lithuanian Lass and the Irish Computer Programmer (or whatever the hell it is that he does. I know he is smart and makes good money. Yet even with all that I still like him. I guess I am growing up after all). She needed shoes and a corset. And right now, all I want is a pre-wedding fashion show. And if I don't get one, you are going to have one very unhappy BSR sulking about the house.
I just went to get a drink, and as I was walking past the front door, Wifey was pulling up. So I am going to wrap this up, but just to make it clear...
I get a show or Wifey gets a cold shoulder to sleep next to.
Saturday I had to open at Bullseye Inc. (I needed Tues., Thurs., and Sat. nights off, so I had to make a compromise). I was talking to a guest when I get a report of an old lady dancing around the store, randomly lifting up her shirt to just below "Danger Will Robinson" levels, and spitting out curse words. Well, to say the least, I was intrigued. So I go to check it out, and lo and behold, the report was spot on. So I go up to the "nice" lady and tell her that we value her business but I needed her to stop flashing the toys and to stop cursing. She said she hadn't realized that she WAS cursing, but she would stop immediately. As soon as I turned around (and before I had taken a single step), she called me a
*****BAD LANGUAGE ALERT!!!! CURSE WORDS AHEAD!!!!!!*****
motherfucker. So I told her that she had to go. This is what brought on the spectacle of me leading her out of the store, with her cussing me out, then cussing herself out for picking on the nice boy doing her job. The whole time she was speaking in the second person, telling herself to shut up "You be quiet, he's just doing his job". "Fuck you, he's an asshole and so are you!".
Mind you, none of this was being directed at me.
After I got her out of the store, I received a report from someone walking in that a crazy lady was walking out in front of traffic and cussing at everyone. Even though I wasn't a math major in college, I was able to add this particular 2+2. So I went out to find her. She was sitting on some steps, sorting out her condiment packets (that she had taken from the snack area of the store. She looked up and saw me, then called me a (and remember, this is a direct quote) "nigger white trash". Impressive pedigree, no? Well she wasn't done. A few seconds later she said that I was a "nigger motherfucking fascist pig". By that time I had alerted someone in the store to call 911. She grabbed a handful of the mayonnaise and mustard packets that she had spent considerable time organizing, threw them at me, and marched off into the parking lot, where the only thing that kept her from being an addition to the nearby speed bump was the anti-lock brakes on the SUV that she walked right in front of.
The last I heard she was in front of the local high school flashing passers-by. I think the cops got her. But I am not sure.
I love my job.
After an 8+ year run, the Early Monday Morning Show is going to be no more. At least as far as live shows go. We will still be around, working on new and exciting projects. But stage will be ending as of this coming June. So why am I still in such a good mood? Because Larry the Upstairs Neighbor and I are not done with live shows, and we aren't going to go it alone. Behold the birth of the latest and soon to be greatest improv/sketch comedy troupe in the history of EVER!!!! Ladies and Gentlemen and Translator Lawyer Robots, I give you...
(Yes, I put the link up twice. Sue me)
...That's right, we are branching off with the full blessing of my comedy life partner and quasi-adopted big brother and starting our own troupe. And I expect all of you that can possibly make it to a show to do so. And when you come to the show, I expect you to laugh. But also, and just as important, I expect all of you to come out to one of EMMS' final shows. You know you want to. Hell, you NEED to. IF you have never seen us, you need to. If it has been awhile, you need to see us again. A bunch of times.
And a special note to Fineous...
I know that you are busy, what with the wife and the job and the baby. But if you are available on October 6th, from 1-5, why don't you come on out to the first ever DROP THREE AUDITIONS!!! Yup, right at the Mobtown Theatre, where EMMS has been performing its magic for the last 5 (or is it 6) years, Drop Three is having auditions. Talent will trump experience, although having both is a nice thing.
If any of the rest of you want to come out, please do. But I want to extend an open, see it in print before the masses request for the Finster. C3PO, we've already talked about this, so you know I want you there too.
Gimme a HELL YEAH!
This one was second on the list, but it didn't post correctly. So now they are all out of order. And that makes me sad. But not as sad as Walt Disney must be right now. I am betting that as you read this, he is rolling over in his cryogenic chamber.
HAH! Popsicle person humor!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Quick note before I get attacked by the masses, that is how it is spelled on Google, and I don't think spellcheck works on the title, so it stays that way.
Wifey is a spiritual mutt. By that I mean that she has some Protestant and some Jewish in her (and sometimes some Scottish. HEY NOW!). So we celebrate all kinds of holidays around here. The menorah next to the Christmas tree and all that. However, I have not had any real experience with the Jewish holidays, and don't think to mark them on my calendar. So last night I decided to make some pork loin that I had defrosted. Wifey ate it and never said a word (until today when she admitted that it probably wasn't the best idea. Of course, she can't be TOO much of a practicing Jew since she eats bacon like an aardvark eats ants. I fully expect to come home one day to find a greasy mirror and razor blade on the coffee table and a Wifey laying on the couch doing her best Brad Pitt in True Romance impression ("okay, you go out there, and you make a right. And you go. And you keep going..."). Wifey seems to think that the beer pork (called that because I cooked it in a mixture that included beer, but I am fairly certain that over an hour in a 350 degree oven cooked off that little bit of alcohol) is what made me slumber so deeply. I think it was just that I was exhausted and in need of some quality coma time.
Honestly, I just wanted to use that title. The post itself is pretty much inconsequential, and I have no way to wrap it up in any sardonic form, so I am just going to end it here and go on with my life. Until the next post, that is.