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Archive for April, 2005

 
|| April 21, 2005 || 11:14 am || Comments (9) ||

Aaaaand they’re off!

Long weekend, school-wise, for the Superior children. So this means that after much swearing and shoving of packed goods/staples into a space tight enough to forge diamonds, we will be off on a family excursion. Said pilgrimage consists of meeting my parents in the middle of nowhere and going camping for a few days.

You guessed it, folks, I’m shoring up the ole inheritance fund by taking some big-eyed cuteness (Sam, Scout, and Mathias…apparently I lost that charm some time ago) to dole out a couple of hugs and a handful of guffaw-drawing questions all over my parental-type people. I figure I’m up to somewheres in the neighborhood of a buck thirty-two right about now.

My cousin Christa, who once told me that babies come out of women’s butts, is also going, as are her parents; they are my parents’ resident best friends and partners in geriatry.*

Christa hasn’t any babies (please, see the middle segment to the first sentence in the paragraph above) to cavort in front of my uncle and aunt in a shameless ploy to soak up any residual cash or valuables; I’m hoping that my kids’ charm will be on the ultra-watt setting this weekend so as to sop up their leavings, too.

Wish us luck, dear Muffinasses, and you’ve got the run of the place till I return!

*Look, you fuckers. I know that’s not a word. We must bend the language to suit us. How many times do I have to tell you that??

 
|| April 18, 2005 || 10:21 pm || Comments (5) ||

(telegraphing emotion)

MAXIM: Awww, you had a bad day!

[ JETT is paranoid, suspicious ]

JETT: How did YOU know?

MAXIM: You’re wearing your baggy jammy pants with the ruffles and huge red hearts, you have your face ten inches from the monitor, and you’re clutching that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bowl for dear life while you cram down Teddy Grahams.

MAXIM: Der.

JETT: You bastard, you’re gooooood.

Don’t worry, my state of mind was salvaged by the very amazing Cavalcade of Bad Nativities (favorite one of all is here…whoooo can guess which?).

I’ll have to send her a link to the Atheist’s Nativity that I so predictably march out and beat you patient-assed folks over the head with every Christmas.

 
|| April 17, 2005 || 10:23 pm || Comments (7) ||

Me=Unapologetically Sick Bastard

I know I should probably be horrified, but the notion of a kid making a list of people that he’d like to kill with a cheese grater makes me laugh so hard that my eyeballs get all wobbly. Plus, it sort of restores some of the hope I keep losing where the next generation is concerned.

This kid is thinking outside of the box, baby. Maybe he needs to team up with the frozen juice armed robber (‘member him?) and form the League of Culinary-Related Criminal Deeds.

Damn, I love being part of the human race. We are so stupidly sad and funny all at the same time.

 
|| April 8, 2005 || 9:57 am || Comments (12) ||

Pet Peeve of the Day

People who use the words ‘refund’ and ‘return’ interchangeably with regard to filing their taxes.

Sample sentence:

“I filled out my 2004 income tax __________ today!”

I challenge you to write that sentence down, show it to various people, and give them a choice of the two aforementioned words to slap in that there space. I’m interested in the percentages, people. What slice of the populace pie (within your sphere of reference, of course) will fuck it up?

(I still have some of these beautiful little babies left. First five of you to tell me your own personal Today’s Pet Peeve will receive one post*-haste)

*U.S Mail pun, as I plan on utilizing their services to fling the goods to the far reaches = Triple Pun Score

 
|| April 6, 2005 || 10:22 pm || Comments (5) ||

Dave and Val: I just may stalk them.

Since there are a lot of you who read this blog that fall into the categories of

a) Yankee or

b) Ferner

I figure you may not know about the television show Junkin’. JUNKIN’, PEOPLE! Simply put, it’s the best! show! EV!er! Coming from the woman who watches nigh on NO television whatsoever, this statement carries a veritable assload of weight.

The premise is this: A guy and a gal toodle around the Southerin Yoo-nited States and hit garage sales, flea markets and yard sales. They riff on the crap they find, buy things that catch their fancies, then turn around and auction them on eBay; most of the time it’s at a pretty decent profit.

They call the El Camino (please recall the role that an El Camino will play in future screenwork by yours truly!) they boogie around in ‘The General Flea’…who in the WORLD loves a good play on words more than me? Darling, please look at the title of this blog.

The hosts, Val Myers and Dave Bird, are scrumptious. Val has that thing going on that simultaneously makes your man get all bunchy in the britches and makes you want to be her newest bestest friend. Dave is my junkin’ doppelganger; I find him awesome because he’s just like me in that he gets all lathered up over some piece of crap that everyone else finds repulsive. He gets so, so genuinely excited and I swear he channels yours truly during the show, saying things like, “I had one-a these when I was a KID!” and “This is the good stuff. Real wood. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”

And people, I should remind you: ‘THE GENERAL FLEA’!

My one complaint is that the show only lasts thirty minutes at a whack. Dave and Val need more airtime, as they are genuinely funny people.

For instance, from Dave’s blog:

… I hereby abandon my mission to proselytize humanity concerning the virtues of the 8-track. I won’t be buying any more of them. I give up.*

(also worth mentioning: Dave’s assessment that he was ‘puffed up like a toad’ from overindulging in a –terribly icky– Southerin staple, boiled peanuts)

As you can see from their outtakes, they’ve been all over the fine state of Hellabama in search of junk. It’s like we have a market on crap, or something. Whatever. I’m just pissed that I never know they’re coming. I plan on staging one HELL of a yard sale and leaking information to their producers so they’ll make an appearance on my front lawn.

It’s my secret fantasy, dear Muffinasses, to mug and cavort with Dave Bird on camera. We can make clever commentary utilizing fifteen-dollar words in our hick accents and TOTALLY confuse and astound the Junkin’ masses with the amazing dichotomy of it all! Better’n sex!

Well, the most fun you can have with your pants on, anyway. Go watch you some Junkin’, kids.

*He lies. There’s one listed this week.

 
|| April 5, 2005 || 9:27 pm || Comments (1) ||

Whoops, I meant to tell you earlier.

Dear Cranberries:

Don’t ever do another Fleetwood Mac cover.

Rock out with your flock out (baaaa),

Your Jett Loves You

 
|| April 4, 2005 || 10:12 pm || Comments (0) ||

Today’s Important Announcement

The folks at Hobby Lobby are complete and total fuckers for putting everything I bought last week on sale this week at a nose-thumbing FIFTY PERCENT OFF of what I paid.

That was the worst, least understandable sentence ever, I know. Let me edit it for clarity.

Hobby Lobby! Fuckjobbers! GRRR!