I Could Be Mrs. Butt Paste

So, I'm dating a guy and I just realized that this is his last name.

Perhaps he is heir to the butt paste fortune? Stay tuned for details.

Hmm? No, No I Didn't Say That.

I spent a lovely evening at the theah-tuh last night taking in a small production called "Lawns," which happens to feature my little sister, the theah-tuh may-juh.

It also happens to feature a disturbing plot development that then madly derails what starts as an otherwise normal play seemingly about youthful angst. Plus, my sister paraded around in her underpants and smoked ersatz pot. But that's beside the point.

Sitting there waiting for the show to begin, I overheard the conversation of the two girls behind me. I did not need to turn around to ascertain their ages, as their inane chatter and cruel nature told me that they were no more than 19, or possibly Republicans. The conversation proceeded thusly:

"Huh, what's this play even about?"

"Dunno. How long do you think it is?"

"Mmmm, maybe an hour or two?"

"TWO HOURS?!"

"Well, I don't know! Maybe!"

... silence ...

"I wonder if anyone would ever, like, you know, come to this if they weren't, like, a student."

"Well, maybe. But I don't know how they would hear about it."

"Yeah. Maybe someone that didn't have any friends."

... looooong silence ...

"Wow, Megan ... that was pretty mean."

"What? What's mean?"

"Well, what did you just say?"

"What do you mean? Say when?"

"Didn't you just say that people who don't go here would only see the show if they didn't have any friends?"

"Oh ... oh, noooo! I didn't say that! I said, 'Someone who HAD friends who were IN THE PLAY!'"

"Oh."

"Yeah! No, I didn't say the first thing! God, Lindsey. I can't believe you think I'd say that."

"Yeah. Well, that's what I thought you said."

"No!! No way. I'd never say that. God, Lindsey. I wondered why you didn't say anything for, like, five minutes!"

At that point the house lights went down, allowing me to shake my head in peace and think about getting my tubes tied.

And I Also Need New Yokes for My Oxen

A coworker of mine called in sick to work today with, and I quote, "a bad case of dysentery."

What is this, a game of Oregon Trail?

I won’t be able to come to work on Monday, as I will contract scarlet fever this weekend after shooting a bear and fording a river in my covered wagon.

Verizon's Covert Ops Force

Upon a morning jaunt the other day, I caught sight of possibly the strangest vehicle I have seen as of late, excluding only, maybe, the Fan's Ugly Truck. I broke many state and national laws as I careened down the hill, eager to capture the curiosity on film (on my Christmas present, a digital camera that I have taken to keeping in my purse in case any hilarity arises that demands to be recorded for all eternity; say, a celebrity sighting, or perhaps a dog in a funny hat).

This particular vehicle was a large, dingy, used-to-be-white shipping truck with no discernible branding, signage, or contact information of any kind. I'm fairly certain that it had to be used for an occupation of some sort, as it was much too large to be a personal mode of transport, unless of course, we're talking about that creepy Christian family from The Discovery Channel.

The two burly men occupying the front seats certainly seemed as though they were headed to a job of some type, except that the truck was utterly devoid of boxes, livestock, watermelons, or anything else that would signify that work was about to be performed. The truck’s back gate flapped open in the wintertide breeze, revealing the stark, grimy emptiness within.

But the real marvel was the message emblazoned on the truck’s side, first in black spray paint, and then outlined in blaze orange, just for that extra oomph of emphasis. I clicked as best as I could, but, like many fledgling paparazzi, I acquired little more than a grainy half shot. (However, I captured neither a Britney cooch pic nor a Paris panty slip, so the image is a success, in my eyes.)



No, it is not, as it somewhat appears to be, a hunk of the Berlin Wall. The message, which none of you can decipher without your secret decoder ring, reads thusly:

“In My Opinion, Don’t Use Cingular”

And that’s when it dawned on me: This truck was being piloted by none other than Verizon’s Can You Hear Me Now? Guy, and he and his compatriot were on their way to pick up The Network, hence the lack of cargo stowed in the rear.

Sadly, the truck pulled away before I could confirm this speculation, so this new mass advertising campaign remains (for now) a mystery.

Your Write - Their Funny, To: Fox SearchLight AGAIN

Oh, the scrolldown. Upon further inspection, Fox SearchLight moved themselves into the repeat offender category by also misspelling the last name of one of their major stars. In an email congratluating him. With a misspelled subject line.

This transgression bumps up their Grammar Offense Level to a 6. I'm keeping my eye on you, Fox ...

Your Write - Their Funny, To: Fox SearchLight

I guess Fox SearchLight is too busy churning out zingers like "Little Miss Sunshine" and "Fast Food Nation," creating clever cultural commentary, and racking up the Golden Globe nods to proofread their emails. I will allow (this time)...

Grammar Offense on a 1-10 Scale: 4

Hello, is this Natural Selection? Hi, this is Kathrin.

Job well done, I say! Darwinian theory is alive and well in China:

“An expedition searching for a rare Yangtze River dolphin ended Wednesday without a single sighting and with the team's leader saying one of the world's oldest species was effectively extinct.

The white dolphin known as baiji, shy and nearly blind, dates back some 20 million years. Its disappearance is believed to be the first time in a half-century, since hunting killed off the Caribbean monk seal, that a large aquatic mammal has been driven to extinction.” [Source]

Boy, what kind of a world do we live in when a timid, visually impaired animal with no instinctive defense mechanisms can’t survive in China’s busy waterways?

And according to experts, next on the chopping block is the finless porpoise, who one can assume lacks dexterity and likely floats in shallow water like a giant air bladder. This hypothesis is made all the more probable by the cuddly nickname locals have given the creature: river pig.

It also bears mentioning that part of the CNN article’s appeal lies in the overabundance of comical names, including August Pfluger, Wang Ding, and Dongting Lake.

I Tawt I Taw a Puddy Tat

I'm just sayin' there's a resemblance.

Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt:



Tweety Bird: