In honor of…

20 06 2010

My dear friend Chels, aka The Lady of the House from a post of yore, I return to you, oh blog, for another installment of her absolute favorite thing in the world as of 6 AM on a Monday morning, following an evening of drinking.

ANIMAL KINGDOM MISSED CONNECTIONS.

Enjoy. And happy graduation, dearest Lady of the House.

NAKED MOLE RAT MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I was naked. Seriously, if you look at me again, I’ll call the police.”

“I was naked. Do I have to tell you again? Just because the blinds are open doesn’t mean you have the right to look into my window right when I step out of the shower. It’s a right to privacy, man. I’m serious, the police are on speed dial.”

“I was naked. You were wearing a Detroit Lions jersey and finally, I didn’t mind you staring at me so much. I also appreciate big cats and ruined economies. Next time you’re looking, why don’t you come in? I’ll be waiting. Naked. As usual.”

PORCUPINE MISSED CONNECTIONS

“You were on the Red Line headed to Addison. I was on the platform at Howard. Our quills poked each other and yours were so sharp, they skewered right through my skin. I got stuck to you and as a result, stuck in the doors when they closed on the left. We’re actually still connected – the “missed” part of it is that I missed my train whilst skewered to yours. If you could give me a ride back home, that’d be great.”

“I saw you at the science fair. I was the one in the ‘Will Rock Music Make Your Porcupine Crazy’ booth. You were at the ‘The Right Way to Pet a Porcupine’ display. The sign said to pet you in the direction of your quills. But baby, I want to rub you the wrong way. Reply if you want to get dangerous up in here.”

ONYX MISSED CONNECTIONS

“Oh wait, I’m a kind of rock. I’m on the wrong site.”

BLACK PANTHER MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I was a black panther. You were probably a black panther, but you might have been a cougar or a jaguar. Honestly, I get us confused sometimes. I drive a Prius, by the way.”

“I was a black panther. You were definitely a cougar, or at least you said you were a cougar. But you might have meant that in the new, slangy sort of way, like you were a hip lady cat who likes to bang young man cats. We talked about how offensive that term was – I wasn’t really listening because I was staring at your tips… of your claws. If you want to change the way you think about cougars, you ought to reply to this message. I can change your life.”

“Seriously, does anyone on here know what a panther is? No one? There should be a hybrid website between missed connections and wikipedia so I can look at pictures and say, ‘Yes, yes I am on the right page now.’ Whatever. Who wants to fuck? M2F only, no fat chicks.”

CHICKEN MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I saw you at the Friday social in Henhouse #4. Not the new #4, the old one that’s by #8. It’s a weird system, I know. You had gorgeous plumage, the kind I’d like to pluck before I cook you and eat you for dinner. No, no… that’s a metaphor. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t really do that! That’d be cannibalism! Ha ha! No… no. I wouldn’t.”

“You: man who told me to ‘bock, bock, bock it up, baby.’ Me: woman who didn’t get your joke. I get it now. Pretty clever. In anticipation of your response, I have eaten several extra pieces of gravel with my feed. You know what that means. No gag reflex.”

“You were ahead of me on a weird, long piece of ground that kept moving towards a great, fiery abyss. It looked like heaven, which is probably why we were both so calm – who couldn’t use a sauna after a hard day’s work of pecking at stuff? You winked at me and then… holy shit, is that a guillotine? Yup, yup, your head just got chopped off. I gotta get out of here. Forget this missed connection, I gotta keep my wits about me, what would Rocky do? WHAT WOULD ROCKY D-”

PENGUIN MISSED CONNECTIONS

“I thought I was looking in a mirror when I saw you. Sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area. I don’t know if you saw me – I was towards the back, next to the guy with the sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area, but in front of the other guy with the sleek yellow beak, pristine black feathers with an adorable little white breast feathers area. It might be a long shot, but I’d like to warm my lonely nights with you.”

“We locked eyes across the glacier. Even though you were not my husband, I agreed to pass my egg to you so I could go get some food. We were so focused on each other that we ended up letting the egg freeze to death by accident. Please respond before my husband gets back. He’s going to be upset.”

“We shared a sardine platter at the Penguins of the World Conference in Greenland. I was giving you a hard time because I’m the kind of penguin that lives in warm weather, and you totally have to live in Antfartica. I only meant it as an opener to ask you to come on vacation to my tropical isle, but you huffed away before I had a chance to invite you. They don’t call us Jackass Penguins for nothing. The offer still stands if I didn’t blow my load on you. Chance! If I didn’t blow my chance.”

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Dating Advice from Your Weird Spinster Neighbor

15 03 2010

(More imaginary excerpts from an imaginary life I’m imagining. You may be wondering if I’m starting to show signs of schizophrenia at this point. You may be right.)

  • There are a few ways to prove to yourself that your boyfriend likes you. Try cooking him a terrible meal. If he pretends to like it, he’s yours. If he points out that he won’t put raw cat food in his mouth, this little minnow needs to be thrown back into the sea. Where he is not a salt water fish and will likely die.
  • Have you thought about plucking  your eyebrows? You should stop thinking about that. A man likes a lady he can look in the eyes, but can’t make direct eye contact with because of the eyebrows. You should never make direct eye contact with a man. It’s disrespectul.
  • Mention Harry S Truman whenever you can, but pretend not to know that the S doesn’t have a period after it. Men like it when they know more about periods than you do.
  • I see you wear pinstripes a lot. You ever think that might be part of the problem? No? Okay.
  • I had a few boyfriends when I was younger. Much younger, oh so many years ago. I must have been nine, ten years old the last time I had a boyfriend. They don’t really like to be “it”. It’s hard to explain, but make sure your man is never “it”.
  • Those plain t-shirts you’ve been getting at the Gap or whatever are a little… revealing. Something like J Jill is how you really snag a man. Or any place you can pick up some curtainy florals. That Fraulein Maria had a point or five in The Sound of Music. Actually, the closer  you can come to shaping your life around The Sound of Music, the better.
  • Good Housekeeping. Just reading the magazine, not actually doing it. Have you seen my living room? It’ll take you a few years to get that “just forgot to clean” look, but you’ll get there. Practice makes perfect.
  • Taco Bell: It’s not just for dinner. Always, always appropriate. Particularly on anniversaries.
  • You have to remember: a man is just like a lady, except with some extra pieces. You can get those extra pieces at a lot of places that are vaguely more respectable than you’d expect.
  • You should consider calling men more often. In fact, you get one phone call per minute that you’ve met them. Talked in a bar for twenty minutes? Call him twenty times the next day. No, it’s true! It’s a ratio! I read it in a book! You don’t have to believe me, but you know you could show a little bit more respect to me as your elder. I have a lot of life experi- oh, what’s that? A call on the other line? Okay, but this was a 7 minute call, so I’ll talk to you 7 times tomorrow.




Diary of a Mad White Tween

11 03 2010

In which we take a look at page 61 from an imaginary diary of an imaginary girl who is like, OMG, having the craziest year ever.

***

“blood all over her gym shorts. And Mrs. Pierson is like, ‘Corinne, it’s just your period’ and Corinne is like ‘No way, Mrs. P, it’s not my period.’ And we were all thinking like, maybe it is her period, maybe she’s becoming a woman before all of us but like, in what universe is that even fair? She’s never even been to a rainbow party and all of the sudden she thinks she’s hot shit because she got her period before everyone else? Yeah right. Corinne is such a skank. God.

But then it’s like, totally obvious that it’s not actually her period because we were playing volleyball and because our school is SO GHETTO there were razor blades stuck to the volleyball and one sliced Corinne in the ass because Randy kicked it at her because Corinne and Randy were dating, but then Randy cheated on her and somehow that’s Corinne’s fault. But he was trying to do it as a metaphor, you know? Like he wanted her back, so he kicked a volleyball at her ass. Kind of like lighting a fire under your ass. But a volleyball. Randy is soooo deep. I wonder if he’ll take me to prom? Oh BTDubs, diary, it was totes me that Randy cheated on Corinne with. But like, it doesn’t even matter, it’s not like anything was facebook official. They were so barely dating, it wasn’t even MySpace official. Like, how lame can you get?

ANYWAY. So now Corinne’s bleeding out her ass, but everyone still thinks it’s her period, and so everyone’s just laughing at her, but then it starts to get pretty obvious that either she has a super heavy flow (just like Mean Girls!) or something because she passes out and Mrs. Pierson’s all like, ‘Oh someone call the nurse’ like it’s not even HER RESPONSIBILITY to call the nurse. I mean, hello?!?! What do they pay you for, just to teach gym and not even know what a period is? God.

So she’s passed out and then there starts to be a puddle of blood on the floor and Greg slips in it, but he doesn’t fall all the way down because he’s so flexible from wrestling. Woof, Greg. Wrestling.

But then the nurse gets there and like, slaps Corinne in the face because that’s apparently what you’re supposed to do in these sort of situations and then all of the sudden the paramedics are there and she’s getting oxygen or whatever and she like, wakes up for one second to wave to Randy, like HOW SKANKY CAN YOU BE? YOU’RE DYING, GET OVER IT.

And then they take her away and she updated her facebook later, so she’s probably okay. Randy’s like, totally back in love with her because he’s disgusting. It’s like, you’re the one that sliced her in the ass, Randy. It’s cool that you get how to do metaphors, but if you love her so much, why’d you try to kill her? I guess her parents are gonna sue the school or something, which means she’ll probably go to private school and become a lesbian.

But at least she didn’t get her period before me.”

*****

JOKE ATTACK:

Question: What did the women in the middle ages call their periods?

Answer: The Traveling Menstrual

Alternates: The Red Plague, A Rat Gnawed Off My Insides Time, No Babies to Work the Farm O’Clock





Slightly Off Terrible First Date Questions

12 02 2010

5 Things You Would Want If Stranded On A Dessert Island:

1. Spork, appropes for both solid and liquid delights.

2. Wet Naps, in case I get sticky.

3. That chocolate syrup that turns into a hard shell when you put it on ice cream, because you can never be too sure if a dessert island is going to include it.

4. Garbage can, for binging and purging.

5. Diabetes kit, for the daily insulin coma I fall into.

***

5 People You Hope to Eat In Heaven (non-sexual, survival purposes only):

1. William Howard Taft, for the sheer girth.

2. Albert Einstein, for the possible brain osmosis.

3. One of those cloned sheep, to see if there was a difference (assuming animal and people go to the same heaven).

4. That kid who got stuck in the chocolate chute during the Willy Wonka factory tour, because he’s prob delish.

5.  Jimi Hendrix, for the contact high without having to travel to Amsterdam heaven.

***

5 People You Hope to Eat in Heaven (purely sexual):

1. Heath Ledger

2. Andrew Jackson

3. Marie Curie

4. C. Thomas Howell (presuming that neither of us will be in heaven for a while, but that when we are both there, this will happen)

5. Watson, but not Crick.

***

5 Ghosts at Your Ideal Dinner Party:

1., 2., 3. The mean ghosts from “Casper” because, like any smart woman, I think that I could change them into better ghosts. They eat food they can’t digest and shit it all over the floor because they love me, that’s all.

4. Bruce Willis in “The Sixth Sense”, moments before he realizes he’s a ghost, so I can have the pleasure of observing the impending awkward silence and then be like, “More wine?”

5. Ghost of Christmas Present. That guy knows how to party, am I right?!

***

5 Mitch Alboms You Couldn’t Live Without:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.





Animal Kingdom Missed Connections

12 12 2009

Because yesterday I ended up on goldfishconnections.com trying to figure out how Imma get my goldfish fed when I go home for Christmas: Extended Director’s Cut. They claim you only have to feed goldfish every 4 days and they can survive a week without food. I claim that how can you NOT feed those little googly eyes every day? How could you not feed anything every day, except sharks, spiders, and snakes? Whatevs.

The point is, upon speaking with my friend Malcolm, he mentioned that maybe I would meet my husband on that site. I said it’d have to be called goldfishmissedconnections.com for that to happen. He wrote me a goldfish missed connection.

Which made me think about other animals, as per usual.

Goldfish Missed Connections

“I was gold. You were gold. You were swimming around in circles for an hour. I was pretty much following you. We shared a meal and, I think, a moment.”

“You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I? You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I? You were behind the plastic green tropical plant. I was… man, where was I?”

“I was swimming around, eating some rocks and spitting them out because it turns out they were not good. You were skillfully floating around upside down, sunbathing. I yelled to you to ask you how you were doing that, but I couldn’t hear if you responded. I’m listening now.”

Turtle Missed Connections

“We climbed up on the log at the exact same time, you with your forest-camouflage shell. I lost y- oh no, wait. I can still see you. You haven’t really moved, and neither have I. Hey, I’m Ron. Tina? That’s a pretty name. How big’s my tail? Girl, I don’t know if you can even deal with this biz.”

“You were stuck upside down on your back when some gigantic creature with what can only be described as ‘freckles’ picked you up in  his claws and put you that way, letting out a maniacal and guttural sound. I tried to help you, but I couldn’t get enough momentum to flip you over because I am a turtle and can’t go fast. Sorry.”

Banana Mixed Connections:

“You were a brown beauty. I’m yellow with a little brown spot from where I fell when I was sooooo drunk the other day. If you’re down with the swirl, so am I. See you at breakfast?”

Cat Missed Connections:

“You were asleep. I was asleep. Actually, I didn’t really see you.”

“I laughed when you puked on the floor. But then I saw you digging around in my poop, and I knew it was love. We made eye contact; you hissed and accidentally puked on the floor again. Please, respond if you remember.”

Giraffe Missed Connections:

“You had a long neck. I had a long neck. I thought I was looking in a mirror, but then I realized I was looking at a beautiful angel. You ever think about going pro? With a neck like that, you could be in pictures, baby. I’m an agent, by the way. You’re going to want to respond to this one.”

“I was galloping really weirdly because our bodies are evolutionarily bizarro. You were so small, like a little dwarf giraffe, maybe only six feet high! Like a little baby giraffe. Oh, wait. You were a baby giraffe. Call me in two years.”

“We were nibbling on a tree together over by that one watering hole where Steven got devoured by like, eight lions last week. Our tongues touched by accident. You giraffe blushed. I started to say something, but you galloped away. It wasn’t going to be anything gross. All I was going to say is ‘Man, with tongues this long, it should be called kisssssssssing, am I right?’ I miss you.”

Gorilla Missed Connections:

“You and I were sitting back to back, picking at stuff on our hair. I don’t know if you were, but I was eating all the stuff I was finding. It was really delish, and I’d love to take you out to dinner one day and eat all of the stuff off of my body. Together.”

“I was getting pretty mad and beating my chest because some douche with weak sauce was stepping all up in my territory. You were discovering the basics of language and using your hands to communicate with some hairless gorilla-esque thing. I think your name was Koko. Please, Koko, how do you say ‘I feel a connection’?”

Aaaannddd I could do this all day it turns out. Recurring feature? I’m back to being an animal blog, whoops. And awesome. And mostly whoops.





This Week in Pun Brainstorms

29 11 2009

I spend a lot of my time thinking of puns for both business and pleasure (by business, I mean I do it at work fairly often).

This week, I had two fairly successful brainstorms with my roommate Kristin via gchat. Having spent the last two years of college speaking almost exclusively in puns with my roommate Patrick, it was nice to get back in the groove of extensive, fast-pace, word play.

Task One: Think of a name of a television show involving as many of the following traits as possible: procrastination, disdain for your friend, being trapped in a closet, the apocalypse, the future, suicide.

Elapsed Time: 40 minutes

Suggestions:

Purgastory
Too Loose Noose
Pull the Trigg..eh…
Limbo Akimbo
Limp Wrists, Limp Dicks
Schizofriendics
Suicide-by-side
Suistand By Me
Russian Coolette, Russian Rouldebt, Russian Foolettes, Russian To Let (something happen), Crushing Regret [a stretch, aware.]
Double Barrel Buddies
Shotgun Circle Jerks
Bullet’s Be Friends
Cock and Bullets
Sherlock and Load
Friendly Misfires
Gun Powdered Go-Nuts
A Salty Rifle, Assaulty Rivals
Puttin’ Off the Ritz, Puttin’ Off the Fists, Puttin’ Off the Fits (of Anger), Puttin’ Off the Slits, Puttin’ Off the Hits, Puttin’ Off the (River) Styx
Procrastobliteration
Laser Laterz
Blastphemous
Oblaterated
Blast Place Ribbon
Laserious Issues
Laser Heir Removal

Eventual Winner: Blast Man Standing

Task Two: Think of a punned out theme for a Holiday Housewarming Party

Elapsed Time: 11 minutes

Suggestions:

Joy to the World, Our House Has Come
Welcome to the Sleighborhood
Jingle Bell Block Party
Chestnuts Hosting on an Open Fire
God Rest Ye Merry Housewarming
Here We Come A’Haussailing
Grandma Got Rum Over By A Reindeer, Grandma Got Rum Over By A Grainalcoholdeer
Frosty Brews the Snowman
Feliz New-vidad
Rum Rum Brewdolph
Please Come (to our) Home for Christmas

Eventual Winner: Grandma Got Rum Over By A Reinbeer

Woof. That’s like, a pun a minute, give or take a couple pundred seconds. Some are terrible. Some are terribly delightful.

I am, as always available for pun challenges at all times. Also, if you own a weird greeting card company and are looking for an employee, I work cheap, particularly if you’re looking for gun and alcohol related puns/portmanteaus.





A Salty Engagement: Episode Six

2 10 2009

Things are starting to get weird. I think I really enjoy writing from the perspective of Tom Arnold. I really hope he’ll let me write his comeback.

And yes, I’m aware that writing fan fiction about yourself is nothing short of self-centered. But I can’t help how interested I am in my own improbably futures.

A Modest Proposal

“I think you know what I want, Ramos. What we both want.” Tom Arnold stepped over the dead Pole, placing an arm precariously over Telly’s shoulders.

Surprisingly, Telly did not shrug him off. She found herself torn between what her body was feeling and what the insides of her body were feeling. Was that nausea? Or the sting of a love long lost?

“I’m with my little man now, T Arns.”

“I love when you call me that.”

“I can’t leave him behind for something that should have been, but wasn’t,” Telly said, letting a tear slip from her lids and a small sliver of boogs drip from her feminine nostrils. At this point, Tom removed his arm of his own volition. He had lost her.

He stepped back over the Pole, who had started to melt slightly in the hot New Jersey sun, like a wayward drop of ice cream. Shaped like a dead body. Tom Arnold reached into his pocket and pulled out a checkbook, replete with personalized Tweety Bird checks. He chuckled at the sight of that yellow bird. That cheerful, scheming, yellow bird. Mr. Arnold liked to think that he was much like Tweety. Always been chased, always outsmarting the competition. What was he doing? He was wasting this great comparison, nay, metaphor on his internal monologue instead of spouting it to the adoring public in front of him! Fool, Tom. You are a fool!

Tom took another glance at the screen, where Eric was starting to stir a bit from the bed on which he resided. “We are going to play this my way. Since, you’ve clearly chosen this Skinny Glasses Man over me, I don’t think there’s much I can do to change your heart, but maybe I can do something else. Add a little spice to your life. Make it so you never look at him without thinking of me.”

No one had any idea what he was talking about.

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked, his eyes glued to Eric on the television screen.

“The only thing bigger than my heart is my checkbook. Are you aware of how relevant I was in the early to mid 90s? Let’s just say Old Tom made some wise investments, and I am prepared to write a huge check – HUGE – to anyone here in exchange for one thing.”

Paul and Sarah looked at each other, salivating. They would do anything for money. They loved each other very much, but nothing says true love like millions of dollars. Besides, Sarah thought, Paul had neglected to have her sign a pre-nup. So “what’s yours is mine” could potentially become very much hers.

“In exchange for WHAT!” Paul yelled, hardly noticing how loud his voice had become. He hoped not to sound too eager, but Papa needs a new leather money sack.

“For that little man’s head. Unattached to his body.”

To catch up and read Paul’s parts, check out A Salty Engagement: The Blog.