Books: They're Not Just for Carnies Anymore

I was just lining up my books on the bookshelf when it occurred to me that I've never read any of them. The last book I read was The Valley of the Dolls, and I needed Cliffs Notes just to get past chapter 4. They didn't have Valley of the Dolls Cliffs Notes back then, so I had to make do with the mimeographed Tale of Two Cities glossary I found on the bus. I kept thinking that the book would be better if Neely was a talking car. Not just any car, either, but a Jeep Grande Cherokee 3.7-liter V6 with independent front/multilink rear suspension and Quadra-Drive II 4WD. I mean, is that even possible in just one car? If you're looking for rugged off-road capabilities and a five star crash test rating, the Jeep Grand Cherokee can't be beat. At any rate, I think the book is flawed.

Superfluous Lunch

I was just sitting at my desk when Bee brought me an apple. It was cut into pieces. But I already had an apple today! I can’t eat two, and now I have this redundant, fragmented apple that won’t keep because its innards are exposed to the elements. I don’t know what to do about it. This reminds me of the time I was invited to a lunch picnic after I’d already eaten lunch; I attended the picnic anyway and ate a second lunch. When I returned home, I discovered that I’d also been invited to an impromptu afternoon pool party – but because I WAS TOO BUSY EATING A SUPERFLUOUS LUNCH, I missed a perfect opportunity to float face-up in a pool. It also reminds me of the time young Napoleon Bonaparte was building a diorama for his literature class and he wanted to portray the scene from King Lear where Ophelia drowns, but his friend Luc told him that that’s a girls scene, so Napoleon scraped the whole project and built a miniature bullet train diorama. He got an F because nobody had written a novel about bullet trains yet.

Vitally Important Link

Before you see the opera bouffe, read the interview.

It’s Time to Put Your Feet Up and Take Your Mind Off Your Troubles

ITEM! Apparently, the Wall Street Journal offices are rife with disease. I know this because people keep finding Topic Drift by googling “wall street journal staph infections.” As I always say, torpid speculation in conjunction with five distinct Google searches constitutes a convergence of evidence, or proof.

Is it safe to handle your morning Wall Street Journal? Not on your life. Staph can be deadly. Just read the WSJ online, or better yet, discontinue your subscription immediately, pack your bags and enlist in the French Foreign Legion. You deserve it! It’s time to put your feet up and take your mind off your troubles. In addition to putting up your feet, you will need to be able to do 30 pushups and 50 situps. You must be able to climb a 20 foot rope without using said feet or a ladder, and you must be able to run 8 kilometres with a 12 kilogram rucksack in less than one hour. You must do 8 chinups with your palms away from you as you grip the bar, and you must not be married. These are not my personal stipulations; they are the grandiose stipulations of the French Foreign Legion. Who are you to question the French Foreign Legion? Let’s eat.

It's Not a Stick

Just the other day a guy walked up to me and told me that my shoes were untied. “Good one,” I said as I turned away, “But I’m not wearing any shoes.” But the guy wouldn’t give up. He told me that I definitely had shoes on. Pfff! How could he know? I was wearing my Rabbit Thunder ice hockey mascot uniform! He said he had the feeling that, inside my rabbit uniform, my shoes were untied. So I stepped back and clobbered him with my carrot.

Later during my routine I noticed an enormous woman hollering and gesturing in the stands. I knew something was up, because Rabbit Thunder fans always sit quietly or read the paper during my routine. When I moved closer to the stands, I lifted my earflap and listened. She was all “WHY DID YOU HIT MY SON WITH YOUR HOCKEY STICK?! HE WAS TRYING TO ASK YOU FOR A DATE, YOU STUPID RABBIT! WHY DID YOU HIT MY SON WITH YOUR HOCKEY STICK?! STUPID RABBIT!”

Well, I never. “IT’S NOT A STICK, IT’S A CARROT,” I shouted in reply. I held my hockey carrot aloft and pointed to it with my other mitten. “I HIT HIM WITH MY CARROT.”

Aaaawwk!

I was wondering how people feel when they come to Topic Drift and I have nothing new to offer them. Sad, probably. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by the labor involved in signing in to my account. All that typing and tabbing and entering and waiting. Then I get hungry and I have to make toast. By the time my toast is ready, the Mary Tyler Moore show is on. Then it's time for ice cream, them I have to floss and brush my teeth or I'll just keep eating until sunrise.

Here's a good joke: What did the crane say to the zebra? Aaaawwk.

He said Aaaawwk. It's all in the delivery. The thing about this particular joke is you have to ask the question very softly, very gently. Then, after your dupe leans in and whispers "What? What did he say?" Then you let out the terrifying deafening drum-shattering AAAAWWWWK! It really makes people angry, this joke. The angry means success. Make no mistake about it: your dupe doesn't even have to be fluent in English. As they say in the theatre, "The language of angry is universal."

Why I Use Word Verification Comment Technology

Listen, if you have a problem with my Word Verification scheme, just shut up and have a cigarette. Stop being so pushy. Commenting on Topic Drift is like falling off a triceratops: it’s a privilege, not a right, and if you tell the wrong people about it, you’ll quickly build a reputation as a lonely lowly mooncalf who bays at the lovely lonely moon in the frightful night sky, with the baying and the mooning and the sky with the moon, amen. Besides, International Word Verification makes it possible for two diseased children from Kwatzankore to visit America every year for lifesaving leg transfusions.

I do what I can. Some people give blood, some people give cash; I use International Word Verification, and I’m not sorry.

Cowboy Movie

I just dusted the plant. Don't you hate cowboy movies? I do. The only cowboy movie I'd watch is a cowboy movie where the cowboys are actually domestic cats trained to use a human toilet. This movie would feature approx. 70 minutes of cowboy cats and their toilet theatrics; suddenly a human toddler shows up and spies a small cowboy cat using the toilet. He laughs and laughs and laughs! Hilarious! Then he runs out of the bathroom, trips over his Elmo, falls heavily and emits a piercing shriek that lasts anywhere from four to seven minutes. All this noise scares the cowboy cats, so they hide under the sofa until someone opens a can of Fancy Feast.

When Hollywood starts making the movies I want to see, I will go to the theater. Until then, stalemate.

Japanese Japan Candies from Japan Chicago Americaland

I'm feeling a little under the weather. My tongue feels wrong and my throat, it's not right. Fortunately, Bee gave me some Japan candies from Japan. She didn't go all the way to Japan for them, she only went as far as Chicago. The candies are tan cola taffy with interior chunks of effervescent white powder and cola-flavored gummy material. They have all the Americaland cola candy beat. You wait here - I'll take a picture.


Delicious! Note the white speck - that's a fizzy part. And the darker speck, that's a cola gummy speck. You may wish to print out this photo and keep it in your wallet.



You get the idea. Cola Head puts on his nicest denim overalls and dusts the candy brick.

The candy website has a silent cartoon about an anthropomorphic strawberry who lives in an enormous strawberry and goes into hysterics when another strawberry pets a pear. I don't know how the cartoon ends because it was too tedious to sit through.

Overheard

Today I heard someone approach the office fax machine and say "Big money! No whammys!"

Disgusting.

They Shut Us Down

Doreen and I wrote so many comments so quickly on my last post that Blogger disabled my comments – right as I was about to tell Doreen where to go. Go to hell, Doreen.

Confidential to Doreen: I’ll be over at 6 for the salmon aspic dinner.

Spring Rolls

I had vegetable spring rolls for lunch. They were delicious, and they didn’t have any of those stupid noodles inside.

Disgraceful Enthusiasm in the Heartland

Word has it that in some parts of America, a salutatory “How are you?” doesn’t really mean “How are you?” but simply “Hello,” or “Hey,” - and that in Minnesota when you greet people with an innocuous “How are you?” they will fling wide the gates of dignity with a hearty “SAY! I’M doing just FINE! HOW ARE YOU?”

So… how do I proceed when someone from, I don’t know, let’s say Jersey City, asks, “How are you?” Hmm. It’s a risky enterprise. I don’t want to look foolish in front of Jersey City citizenry– that much is certain. I don’t want Jersey City Man to think I’ve never set foot outside of the tri-state area. In fact, I’ve been to Canada on two occasions. Doesn’t matter, though. I guess I want what everyone wants: I want the citizens of New Jersey to believe that I am just as sophisticated as they are. And I want it in writing.

Will let you know when this happens.

What Really Happened at City Hall, or My Emotional Emotional Mayor

The tears rolled down his cheeks as the mayor gingerly placed the burrito in my open hands. "The values that laid the groundwork for an ambitious agenda will allow Minneapolis to rightfully claim its place as the Great American City of our time. And we should settle for nothing less. Also, we offer chili sauce in Mild, Extra-Mild, and Clear." With that he collapsed on the countertop, sobbing and wretching and clutching his chest. I wanted to leave quickly and quietly but I tripped over a mop and dropped my burrito. A replacement burrito seemed out of the question, given the inevitable bureaucratic hassle and the mayor's fragile mental state.

Consecutive Days without sun in Minneapolis: 13

URGENT HUMAN RIGHTS PETITION PLEASE SIGN IMMEDIATELY

The Veronicas should be disowned by Australia.

Pupilometrics

I would have blogged sooner, but I've been studying pupilometrics. Pupilometrics: the study of the black eye dot. Not everyone has a black eye dot - you have to have eyeballs first. If you are without eyeballs, you are likely without pupils. What I'm saying is this: pupilometrics is a very complex area of study. Pupilometrics is what happens when pupils "puporate" in the presence of visuals. I have reached an advanced state of knowledge of pupilometrics in a matter of minutes by utilizing a specialized "soak strategy" wherein I actually puporate the pupilometrics textbook. It's like speed reading, but faster. I would like to tell you more about this exciting science, but I have to be at city hall in five minutes; the mayor is microwaving me a burrito.

January

The sun hasn't shown on Minneapolis in 11 days. I just ate some raisins though, so things are looking up.

Also, it's only 9:40 and I've already remembered the Alamo twice.