Category Archives: Humor
This is a story about soccer. First off, I am NOT a soccer mom. I just happen to have a kid that
plays soccer (ok, well, plays might be too strong a term) is on a soccer team. Now, I never really liked soccer, if only because I grew up a white kid in the rural Midwest in the 80s. We played baseball and softball. In the middle of the day, the middle of the summer, all summer long. Flashback to 1984: we play a game or two of soccer in PE, and that’s the extent of my soccer playing career. Flashback to 1996: the US women’s soccer team takes the Olympic gold medal. A huge day in woman’s sports! These women really made an impression on millions of young (and old) girls and totally strengthened the visibility and viability of female sports in this country. Flashback to 2002: I watch Bend It Like Beckham. Hey! Soccer looks kinda cool. Present day: soccer is everywhere. Our formerly soccerless community kinda likes soccer around here. We have our own county league, and the high school has a soccer team! Girls and boys compete on the same teams. Girls kicking boys’ asses! Seriously, if this had been available when I was a kid, you better believe I would have been all over kicking boys’ asses!
In our county league, a kid can play soccer at the tender age of 3…and therein lies the problem. Three-year-olds are not, in general, very interested in, or very good at, competitive sports. Neither is my 4-year-old. You see, I am what you might call old school when it comes to sports. Winners are winners and losers are losers. You don’t get a trophy for last place. You play to win. You don’t stand around, twirl your hair, and look at the ground. You don’t play a sport UNLESS YOU WANT TO. I cannot bear to watch my kid stand around, twirl her hair, and look at the ground. What have I done? Three is too young. Four is too young. Five? Probably too young. So, chalk this one up to lesson learned. Next year, we’re playing T-ball!!
I’m still here. Really. It’s been so nice out. And I come home and drink, and sit on the porch. And its nice, really nice. We walk around the yard, and pick flowers. Damn. My mind is a numb nothing. My inspiration is a squat in the yard, but saved for the ‘ol iPhone (that time-killing bastard Instagram again). But seriously, its a stellar year for flowers. So far, I’ve got some things to look up. At least one wildflower I haven’t seen before. I found the bloodwart again. But I’m leaving that for another post….
Hungry? How about a Great Northern Chicken (Gallus Giganticus) wiener?
A little something I found in my draft folder, written prior to Christmas. Applicable to Valentine’s Day. How convenient, cause I’m pretty much void of any comprehensible thought, wit, or wisdom today. Here we go:
Instructions for shopping at a bookstore when you don’t read to begin with (and I’m assuming you are trying to be cool and buy your bookish friends/family something for the holidays [uh, Valentine's Day that is]; a noble cause but just get a damn gift card):
1. Just get a damn gift card.
2. Get the fuck out of my way. This is a bookstore, dammit, not Wal Mart.
3. Look! Over there, it’s the magazines. At the end of the Romance aisle. You belong there. And there.
4. Uh, seriously, no one likes “coffee table” books. No one.
5. Coffee. Is that coffee? Go over there and sit. Don’t talk. Just sit. Maybe read a magazine. Or a Romance.
6. Now, exit the store. Go to Wal Mart. Go on, you deserve it. (But please don’t buy the shitty chocolates there for your reader friend/spouse/lover. You should have a least bought Godiva at the B&N. God, what a loser you are.)
Don’t hate me. It’s just that I’m too nice in real life. I have to get the sarcasm out somehow. And why am I capitalizing Romance?
So Valentine’s Day is just a week away. Valentine’s Day is interesting, very interesting. Let’s see, it was created to honor certain Christian martyrs, and according to Wikipedia, there were several early Christian martyrs named Valentine. Yes, I know, Wikipedia: the end all of knowledge. But whatever, I’m sure there’s some truth in this.
So tell me, how many of our holidays are NOT based on Christian martyrs? Thanks to Chaucer, the Valentinian martyrs (of which there appear to have been more than one) eventually became associated with romantic love (somehow, I’m not really prepared to go into that type of detail).
Anyway, as we all know, Valentine’s Day is just another commercialized non-holiday holiday featuring a bunch of red hearts and shitty chocolates. The Wal-Marts of the world love it. Another chance to sell cheap crap for, well, cheap. I noted an entry in our old friend Wikipedia referring to Antivalentinism, which is just fucking awesome, particularly in this post-Seinfeld world.
Happy Antivalentinesday folks!
Who wants an all-blue Super Bowl? Not me. I don’t even want to watch the damn thing. I do, however, look forward to the food. I’m making St. Louis-style pizza (Think Imo’s for those of you who don’t know what St. Louis-style is, although if you don’t know what St. Louis-style is then you probably don’t know what the hell Imo’s is. Uh, never mind).
Our Superbowl halftime entertainment: who needs Madonna. (Click the link; I’m not ready to invest in the $60 WordPress video player yet.)
It’s not a sports thing. I’m jaded on many levels. In fact I will post about it at some point. In the meantime, go blue.
I wasn’t even going to post today. Didn’t have anything to say, really. But then I read about this group, One Million Moms (OMM), that has started a campaign against JC Penney because they recently hired Ellen DeGeneres as spokeswoman. Ok, so I was initially revolted by this. I went to their website, then I was not only revolted but insulted. What I learned was that it’s not just Pennies (it’s Pennies around here, people) that this group is targeting, but also Macys (two grooms on a wedding cake ad); Jenny Craig (a sensually clad Mariah Carey ad); Ben and Jerrys (you guessed it: the SCHWEDDY BALLS ice cream flavor); Rite Aid, Walgreens, and CVS (oh yes, adult toys [gasp!]); and I could go on and on. Actually that was fun. I might visit them again. Then shop at all those stores completely out of spite and fill out customer courtesy cards at each letting them know OMM referred me.
But I digress, OMM wants you to place a call to Pennies in order to:
Ask JC Penny to replace Ellen Degeneres as their new spokesperson immediately and remain neutral in the culture war.
Really? Remain neutral in the culture war? This is soooo moronic! Do they mean the culture war that’s initiated and propogated by groups like OMM? What the hell is going on here?
Anyway, aside from the obvious, one of the main problems here is with OMM’s ill-conceived, poorly worded statement of campaign purpose, entitled JC Penny is Now Insulting Its Customers that reads, in part:
Funny that JC Penney thinks hiring an open homosexual spokesperson will help their business when most of its customers are traditional families.
The small percentage of customers they are attempting to satisfy will not offset their loss in sales by offending the majority.
Now, oh, why do they think that many people really care that Ellen is gay? Because this so-called majority, of which I am included, is supposed to be offended that Ellen does not represent a “traditional family”? Uh, get over yourselves, OMM. Go live your life. Don’t shop at Pennies, please. I don’t want to see you in there, ok?
Guess what? One MILLION Moms are currently searching for moms (and guess what else? singles are even welcome [!]) to make up their million. Try and find out just how many of them there are right now. I couldn’t. Who the hell knows, but I’ll be John Brown if there are more than a couple thousand, and some of them are probably men. After all, this is a ministry of the ultra-conservative American Family Association, an organization that is, among other things, a strong anti-gay hate group. Wonderful.
Hey, OMM bitches, go back to 1953, will ya?
You know, sometimes I really just don’t like people. But then again, I like more people than I think because in researching this I found this awesome blog post about the hypocrisy of OMM. No doubt there are hundreds, if not thousands more.
Ever had a product that you loved so much you could, completely off-the-cuff, give a three-hour presentation about, followed by an hour of Q&A? Well let me tell you: I do. And I’ll spare you the details. Because, after all, this is about time. My time; your time. Considering a vacuum? Look no further.
Meet Roomba. Meet Little Roomba (actually it’s a Scooba but we lovingly refer to this little doll as LR). These are my best friends. Especially Roomba, although I’ve got to hand it to Little Roomba because she gets BEHIND THE TOILET. Hell yeah.
I completely, unfailingly, 100 percent love the shit out of them. Period. Obviously I’m not the only one. Have a look at the Georgia Institute of Technology’s Pimp My Roomba study. And then there’s ROOMBA ART! Seriously, check it out.
Yeah, I’ve had to replace a wheel and the motor, but hey, it sure as hell beats manual vacuuming. Manual vacuuming? Blech. Questions? Ask iRobot. They make ‘em. Interestingly, Roomba is an American invention (by MIT robiticists, to be exact), and from what I can tell, the robots aren’t all made in China. Uh, I think.
I would wear a dress for you, Roomba. And that’s saying something.