I take that back. I may or may not be an idiot, but someone else may or may not be.

I think I am an idiot.

Sarcastic: I chose the word sarcastic as it can mean “something of a smart-aleck.”
A major part of the dictionary definition of sarcastic involves the word “bitter”. However, frequently I do not consider myself to be overly bitter. In fact, I find myself to be more sweet than bitter. If a cannibal were to come across me one day and on a random whim attempt to eat me, he may find that I am indeed bitter upon first taste, but however, he would eventually find me to be quite sweet tasting. Unfortunately, he could not recommend me to his cannibal friends, seeing that I would be eaten, unless he saved a part of me for leftovers. Then again, not much would be left to eat, as I contain little meat on my little bone.
-a rejected paragraph from a school assignment

WARNING: The links in the following post are not for those currently sitting in work or school, and definitely not for those who are offended by certain four letter words.

I realized I am dreadfully immature. A man named Bodhi Oser started printing stickers with a certain four-letter word and plastering them in the most inappropriate moments. The result? The book "F*** This Book", full of pictures such as this, this, and this. I'm not sure if I totally agree with vandalizing signs with offensive graffiti, but the end result is still entertaining.

All of us Valley students know what happened recently. Nope, not gonna talk about that. There's nothing more to say.

I heard on the news that the people who can't leave the area in which Hurricane Rita will be approaching are being asked to write their social security numbers on their arms with indelible ink. May I simply say "wow?"
I can't think of a better idea to identify the dead myself, but there just might be something wrong with this plan. If the people are either:
1) unable to leave or
2) unwilling to leave
then the chances of them having a spare indelible ink pen are kind of unlikely.

Description of a Mime Show 2005

Opening: Yarr. The mimes take the role of pirates. Just as the opposing pirates are about to take over, we cut to...
It's Never Going to Happen: Mr. Lemonator hit the nail on the head. Yes, we're high schoolers, so a "girl wants guy but can't get him but then they flip" skit is obligatory. Regardless, it was well done.
Evil iPod: The iPod possesses him and changes his mood regarding the song. The moment the mime onstage hits "play", the sound starts. Brilliant timing by the sound crew.
Sausage Fest: A common theme of this year's mime show: short and sweet skits. Simple pun, however, the buildup was a bit extended.

A Progressive Mime (Pt. 1): One mime onstage, pulling something and making faces. You can tell who hasn't seen the mime show before; cries of "I don't get it!" come from the audience. That's because you're not supposed to yet, darlings. And oh yeah, maybe next time don't yell if you're sitting right behind me into my ear.

Fly Away: Ben Folds's "Landed" was used to perfect effect here. One of the few serious skits this year, as Mr. Lemonator mentioned. A bit unclear, but well done.
Hangin' Out: Another Steven Wright-esque moment. Essentially a one liner skit, but with no words. Cleverly done.

Comic Book Quickies: Somewhat disappointing. The extended buildup to nothing during the last quicky ("Wonder Woman") was entertaining.

The American Dream: This skit was not a knee slapper, however, it was not a somber skit like Fly Away. Honest commentary on what the American dream means now. You can even pretend they were all outsourced at the end.
Hell On Earth: Not only did it look impressive (thanks to creative lighting by the techies), but was a total surprise when you realized this was a funny skit. This may have been one of the best skits of the night.

A Progressive Mime (Pt. 2): Same as Part 1. Yes, even the cries of "I don't get it!", except this time it was followed with "shut up!"

Tough as Nails: Music was well used to set the mood here. Football players, one breaks a nail, "ohmygawd!"

Books: Another short and sweet skit. Simple, well done.

Mentos: Part Deux: One of the best skits of the show. Like a Mentos commercial, except with affairs and domestic violence dripping with optimism, creating a huge laugh from the audience. Excellent performances from all in this skit.

A Progressive Mime (Pt. 3): Yeah, he's delivering a baby. Sorry, this year's progressive mime was a bit of a letdown. Girl sitting behind me screaming into my ear: do you get it now? Jolly.

Mime-o-ries: Some old skits redone.
I'm Pregnant Quickies: Entertaining at first, got kind of tired to me. Man, am I pessimistic about the quickies this year. Apologies.
The Bodyguard: Another great one. Bodyguard guards young pop star, and allows her to take the bullet(s) for him. Very funny.

Storybook: Ah yes, storybook. What would the Baker's Dozen be without it? Very nicely done. Sure, there was no plot, but it made fun of everything in the school, so really, does it need a plot if it's hilarious?
(Note: I was told by a reliable source that the moral of the story this year was intended to be "boner", but unfortunately, that didn't fly with a few adults. Why not? If I were to write a kids story, I know what the moral would be. Boner, but of course.)

Closing: A nicely done, semi-artsy and well choreographed skit. Great sense of conclusion.
Overall, consistently funny show. The Baker's Dozen got the laughs across, and did it well.

So, over in Boone, Iowa, kids are getting a chance to ride and meet Thomas the Tank Engine. My aunt misinterpreted this in her own special way. By the way, this is the first thing I heard when I got up around 9:30 today.

Transcript:
"Karen, I just wanted to let you know to keep an eye on Thomas today, because I just heard on the news that kids are going to be riding him today. So, um, in Boone. So if he wants to go to Boone, you probably shouldn't let him. Uh, "Kids Day out with Thomas." They're gonna have "fun", or something...about riding him. So, keep an eye on 'em. Bye...maybe he's trying to be another Michael Jackson." (click)

My mom called back and left her a message, too. I didn't get to record it, but I remember word for word what she said:
"You pervert." (click)

Television confuses and slightly angers me. How is it that Animal Planet can make a TV special about animals who have been rescued from Katrina when there are already bunches dead and not rescued?

So, as something of a geek, I help out at a particular radio station every now and then when our high school is playing a football game. No, I don't do the talking part. If I had to do that, I think my commentary wouldn't get any deeper than "Alright, that guy has the ball...and he's running. Ooh, ouch, he got hit. I'm glad I'm up here."

Anyway, radio station. Some friends of mine and I (but mostly the friends of mine) are helping run the soundboard at the station. This consists of pressing a red button here and there and turning up and down volume. Meanwhile, we listen to the sports announcer narrate the game from the stadium. Typically, commentary consists of people running to 30 yard lines and tackling each other. However, this time it was a bit different.

As my friends and I discuss something along the lines of lumberjacks, we note something odd going on through the speakers. It's the commentator, and he sounds far more excited and entertained than usual.

"...and it looks like...yes! Ladies and gentlemen, there is a streaker running through the field of Valley Stadium!
Our conversation by now has totally ceased. We all spin around in our chairs to look at the speakers as our announcer, Tony narrates. (Why we all spun around to look at the speakers I don't know, though. It isn't like the speakers were going to change or anything.)
"Oh, he's running...he's running! HAHA! He's trying to jump over the fence! Here he goes...and OHHH! He's just been caught by the police! HA HA! This is great!"

At this point, the four of us back in the studio managing the soundboard are cracking up. Not only because there's an apparent streaker, but also because Tony is announcing this as if it is a juicy play in which our rival team nearly makes a touchdown but is hindered by doing so thanks to us.
The other announcer takes the mic. "Tony, I think this is the best play-by-play you've ever done."
Tony laughs. "Yeah, people will be talking about this shirtless man for some time to come."

We pause slightly back in the studio. Wait. Shirtless? As in, only lacking a shirt? As in, wearing pants but lacking a shirt? We contemplate this. This is not a streaker. Just because a construction worker isn't wearing a shirt, does it mean he's naked? I think not.

This is some breaking news, so on my way to the vending machines I make an effort to stop by the person-in-charge's office, Mary Anne. She's there with her friend Ryan, whom I have never met before.
"Hey, apparently there was a streaker at the game," I say. She looks at me slightly confused, as does Ryan, whom I have never seen or spoken to before. "Hello," I say, semi-awkwardly acknowledging him, realizing that discussing a streaker is not a good way to meet someone.
"Hi," he says politely anyway.
Mary Anne starts talking. "So, wait," she says, like we're discussing the opening of a new restaurant, "a streaker, like, totally nude?"
"No, unfortunately," I say, realizing I probably mean "fortunately". "Just shirtless."
Ryan begins speaking. "A guy or a girl?"
"A guy," I say.
"That's not streaking," Mary Anne says. "If it were a topless girl, yeah, that'd be abnormal. But a topless guy? That's a waste of effort."
It appears everyone agrees with this. My phone begins to vibrate in my pocket.
I interrupt the conversation. "Sorry, my pants are buzzing," I say, wishing I hadn't said it.

I walk away and answer the phone. "Hello?"
It's my mom.
"There was a streaker?!" she loudly inquires. Apparently, she listens to the radio station too.
"No, no," I say.
"But they said he was streaking."
"Yes, but he was just not wearing a shirt."
"He was wearing only a shirt?"
"No, no," I say. Our dialogue is moving faster than a conversation on Gilmore Girls (yeah, my sister watches it).
"Oh, so he was shirtless," my mom says.
"Yeah, pretty much. Kind of dull, isn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah. A waste of attention. Hey, want a ride to the game?"
"Okay, sure. Bye."
"Bye."

I go to the game. That was fun. But maybe we can talk about that later.

tomamama29: this almost makes less sense than when the 4 year old neighbor promptly informed me I was fired, needed to go downstairs and go count some pillows
imokwiththat44: lol
tomamama29: thus I did
tomamama29: but if for some reason by some fluke I am in a "boss" position and need to fire someone
tomamama29: they will most certainly go downstairs and count pillows

Does anyone remember Floam from the early 90s? It was basically the end product if Styrofoam was made into clay. But most importantly, it smelled bad. And now, they're reselling it, touting it as a miracle product. They say you can mold it into anything. You can make a ball. You can make a castle. You can even make a full size skateboard. Yes, all with one pack of Floam! I personally won't be impressed until Floam houses are built.