I saw this on The Daily Show- TWICE- and still can’t get enough of it. I think this is some very funny shit.

First it was Rich Hall’s Snigglets and everything funny in the world was attributed to Rich Hall. Xeroxed copies of Snigglets from Not Necessarily The News were passed around school and brought home from the office by parents. Then stories began circulating by Bill Cosby after his Fatherhood book was published. Next came the poor impersonations of Eddie Murphy’s standup and Seinfeld one liners. Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy. Lord help us, the Internet was created and the wisdom of Stephen Wright, and finally George Carlin, was sent to my Inbox at least once a month- for YEARS.

My complaint is that these are the same quotes, the same jokes, that have been going around for two decades, but they get credited to a new comedian every few years. I think all of those guys are funny but I’m convinced that half the jokes came from Heny Youngman or Rich Little or Bob Hope they’re so old. And why are you still forwarding these to me? I’ve read them all. ALL at least 10 times. I can only laugh at a pie in a face so many times and then it just becomes a pie in the face and makes me want a snack.

I once received a forward (imagine that) that instructed me to appreciate forwards because that means someone is thinking of you. Fuck that. A forward is the lowest form of flattery. If you want to think of me, type a three word email that reads, “Thinking of you!” and send that. If you MUST forward me something, try to make sure it’s not 8 years old, try to review the endless thread of forward messages as the text, and try to at least add your own quip. Something like, “This made me think of you. I think you’ll appreciate number 7!” Please don’t continue to send me shit like Larry the Cable Guy Words of Wisdom. Seriously. LARRY THE CABLE GUY WORDS OF WISDOM? Is THAT the joke?

I’ll bet you a dollar that if I changed the title to ‘Jeff Foxworthy’s Pearls of Sanity” and send this exact email back to the sender, it would end up in my Inbox by the end of the week. Where are all these forward happy, ‘thinking of you’ mother fuckers when I’m painting my house?

The Wisdom Of Larry the cable Guy......

1. A day without sunshine is like night.

2. On the other hand, you have different fingers.

3. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.

4. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

5. Remember, half the people you know are below average.

6. He who laughs last, thinks slowest.

7. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

8. The early bird may get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

9. Support bacteria. They’re the only culture some people have.

10. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

11. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

12. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

13. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.

14. OK, so what’s the speed of dark?

15. When everything is coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.

16. Hard work pays off in the future. Laziness pays off now.

17. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

18. Eagles may soar, but weasels don’t get sucked into jet engines.

19. What happens if you get scared half to death, twice?

20. Why do psychics have to ask you your name?

21. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering, ‘What the heck happened?’

22. Just remember—if the world didn’t suck, we would all fall off.

23. Light travels faster than sound.. That’s why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

24. Life isn’t like a box of chocolates; it’s more like a jar of jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow

Jeff seeks perfection in an imperfect world. When he asks an assistant to stock the refrigerator in one of the homes on the market, he nearly implodes if the labels on the water bottle aren’t all turned the same way. It’s comical to watch the assistants’ reactions to these insane demands but what resonates more to me is how right Jeff is. Every home he puts on the market is perfect. The homes are tasteful and spotless, with an immaculate glow that can only be achieved if you’re a tight ass. This overlord mentality is his core. It transcends to how he treats his pets (more important than his assistants), how he likes his meals, and how he hangs his clothes in his closet. And I think that in his manic obsession, he has a humor that bites, scratches, and slaps those around him. He will do things like demand that his assistants write him apology letters so that he can store them in their employee files. He has nanny-cammed his home because he feels unable to trust anyone. He puts 32-year old men on punishment when they do not meet his expectations. I know he’s an asshole, but I can’t help but view him as the hero of the story. In his constant frustration and in a whirl of firing and rehiring staff, we get a glimpse into the workings of a true perfectionist- and it makes me feel blessed that I have, although narrowly, escaped this curse.

Although not perfection, Tropic Thunder is an excellent way to kill a couple of hours. All laughter was genuine and easy. Recognizing that I am far behind the curve on this one, I think I’m deciding that Robert Downey Jr. is a good actor. I guess because of my age, the defining RD Jr. role is his character as Julian in Less Than Zero. It’s not fair to consider that his pinnacle role. He’s done a lot of good work since then- all of which goes unacknowledged by me. I’m tempted to see Iron Man now because I’ve heard he does a fantastic job.

The real star of Tropic Thunder is Tom Cruise. I would never care to meet Tom Cruise. I think he and that troll of a wife he has are creepy beyond comprehension. But he does an OUTSTANDING job in this movie. Maverick is all grown up now and, as much as it pains me to admit it, has real acting chops. The chest hair alone should earn him an ocsar nomination. 

6 other kids and I were ready to load into the back of a camper pickup and head to the skating rink when Paul’s mom came running out of the house, hysterical. It was Paul’s birthday and the party was at Fun Time Skateland. I remember being excited; going skating was HUGE. I remember that I had to wear long pants, even though it was August, to protect myself from the many falls that were sure to come. I remember that this was my first skating party and that after this day, that rite of passage would be complete.
The crappy ketchup pizza sauce, the dank smell of a dark room, the hot, un-air conditioned bathrooms with lockers at the entrance, the loud thumping music, the carpeted mushrooms… with great anticipation for these Earthly delights, I waited to load into the camper.

And that damn Elvis ruined it all.

I don’t know if you remember 1977, but Elvis fans were rabid. He was like a god to them and the rest of the world accepted his worship. In the 70’s “E” did a concert that my family watched. Paul’s mom sent him to our house so that she could REALLY watch it. I can’t think of a performer today who has clout on the same level that Presley did. I can’t think of a single actor, singer, or even politician whose death would rock the world and cause time to stand still for so many. There is no celebrity alive today whose passing would cause me to cancel a party. But it’s not 1977, and I’m not Paul’s mom.

Janice was prone to freak-outs anyway. She drank Tab constantly, bought peanut butter and jelly that was already swirled together, and was an alcoholic. I didn’t know at the time how unstable she was but I do recall her siding with her 7-year old son once when he told me that he had 100 grandparents. We argued, standing beneath a framed painting of a rose. Supposedly this painting was a family heirloom and the lineage of the painting had started the whole gaggle of grandparents debate. I don’t even think it was a painting. I think it was a crappy dollar-store print of a painting, but Paul insisted that this had been passed down through his family for years and had finally rested on his living room wall- gold frame and all. He swore to me that because his father was actually his step father, he had a slew of grandparents- 100 to be exact. Even with my poor computation skills, I knew 100 grandparents was unlikely. Paul called for his mother to confirm the sum of grandparents. Janice told me that if her son said it, it was true and that I was never to question him. I remember thinking then that this woman was an idiot. It’s the first time I realized adults could be stupid.

So the day of Elvis’ death we were to go to the skating rink. Instead, I was sent back home with the promise that the party would be rescheduled. It never was. I had never seen a grown up sob so intensely. I had never had the promise of a party yanked right out from under me either.

John Lennon’s assassination, the Challenger explosion, Elvis dying at a very young 42 on the toilet- these things share that same space in my brain where Muppets lurk and Pop Rocks still rule. It’s funny what we do and do not remember. I remember that Paul also had an aquarium that housed a huge Coy. He told me that the fish was 100 years old.

I knew better than to question him. 

Supposedly, there was to be a meteor shower this morning at 2. Being a sucker for celestial events, I decided to realize my 15-year goal and wake up at a ridiculous hour to watch the show. I went to bed extra early, set the alarm and double checked it, and fell asleep dreaming of the forthcoming awesomness. At 1:40, I started hitting snooze- finally talking myself into rousing. “Liz. This is your pep talk. GET OUT OF BED. It’s a meteor shower! Nature’s own fireworks show! You must rise. Make coffee. Fulfil your dreams!” So I get up, make coffee, and go outside.

It’s fucking cloudy. And now I think it’s even raining. Either that or it’s the sound of my tears hitting the keyboard. Tears streaming for sleep lost.

I know what you’re thinking, “A simple check of the local forecast would have prevented this.” I thought of that, but was too busy making preparations for my early rise to actually watch the local news. And by 10, I was asleep with a warm smile on my face, dreaming of the firey beauty to come. This SUCKS. And now I am awake. And that is definitely rain.

In other news, I thought I had quit smoking. It was quite a feeling of accomplishment. I hadn’t yet reached the point where I chastised those who did smoke, but I was getting close. That is, apparently, how you really know that you have quit. You see, until you become a raging asshole about smoking and smokers, you’re still on the edge of returning to your sinful ways. I was getting close to using quips like, “Look at Joe Cool over there with his smoke dangling from his lips,” and “God. This bar is SOOOOO smokey. I wish they would ban smoking in public places! (disgusted grunt).” But then I started drinking and there is no road to hell as well paved as the road littered with beer cans. I could turn it around right now if I set my mind to it. I could just not smoke before the nicotine totally grabbed my system again and took hold. But I do love it so.

I once had a guy say to me, “You’d better put those cigarettes down before you’re not so good of a catch anymore.” WOW. That statement will really make you stop and reflect on what’s important. He thought I was a good catch!

I’ll smoke to that…

The sense of obligation to post has been overtaken by my lack of interest in writing. I don’t expect you to bear with me. I hope you’re disappointed. Hell, be angry! You deserve it. But it doesn’t change the fact that pecking at keys does not appeal to me at the moment. I hope I’ll be back. Blogging has always been a lot of fun. Just, lately, Meh.

I went to see Momma Mia tonight. I wanted to gouge my eyes out and pierce my ear drums. I don’t think any amount of alcohol or any drug would have made this movie bearable. The two friends I went with (one guy, one girl) both loved it. I found it repulsive and would have walked out had I not been waiting for the reveal of the ‘father’. It was a waste of my life, even though had I not gone I would have only been home watching The Office reruns on TBS. I will say that I now crave an ABBA CD and went to Overstock.com to check out prices. SOLD OUT. You know those 4 bandmates are stunned at this resurgence. Good for them! I’ve always liked the light cheese of ABBA. This revival almost justifies the filming of Momma Mia.

ALMOST.

I also saw Batman a few weeks ago, which I liked. Killer said it got too long. I do not agree. I, however, was on pain pills when I watched it, so my sense of time was distorted. I think we both thought, however, that although Heath Ledger did a good job playing the Joker it wasn’t any Oscar-worthy performance.

Although I’ve done more than watch movies since we last met here, that’s about all I can muster for now. Fuck! There’s the spell check button. Excellent. I know I spelled resurgence incorrectly!

Until next time, be well. 

There is also a large number of people offering stock tips through my blog comments.  I’m not exactly Warren Buffet.  It would probably better benefit them to pick someone who actually knew how to buy a stock.  If I was to buy even a single share in a company, let’s say in McDonald’s, I would be a total jack ass about it.  I would laminate my stock, I guess they give you some sheet of paper proclaiming your owner ship, take it to the nearest McDonald’s and demand my Apple Pie be made fresh...immediately...and smile damn it!  Don’t you see I own your ass. Then I will probably laugh like some mad man while waving my laminated single share.  If I bought a couple of thousand shares...man, I would probably just move in and sleep in that giant, e-coli infested, pit of balls in the playland.

At least the plethora of Viagra, Cialis, and penis enlargement medications seem to be a valuable product and make me think the spammers are targeting me properly.  All I am asking for is a little thought in my spamming.  Don’t just throw a bunch of shit against the wall to see what sticks.  However, if I was interested in purchasing some penile enhancing or virility inducing medications, I would not be ashamed and try to get it online.  I would proudly walk into my doctor’s office and loudly proclaim, “Doc, I’m getting some action...a lot of action...so much action that I can’t get enough erectile satisfaction to keep up with it.  You had better give me some sort of magic pill to better enable me to pound out all this sweet va-jay-jay that is being tossed at me like cheap beads at Mardi Gras.” I would then take said prescription to the biggest, busiest pharmacy around, grab a 36 pack of condoms (in assorted colors), the biggest bottle of tingling lubrication available and carry it all up to the counter to fill my prescription by puffing out my chest and saying, “Guess what I’ll be doing tonight....TWICE!”

Until I left the salon and got into my car and realized the button across my chest was undone!

I’m not kidding. This is TWICE- the only two times I’ve been to this place- that I have exposed my unmentionables to this Vietnamese guy.

Valerie says the guy is going to think I’m after him and that next time I leave the salon I’ll find a note on my car.

I said that I agreed and that the note would read “Whore, leave my husband alone”.

Killer Rants w/Liz is down, but not out.

I hope to be back in the blogging mood soon, and might still post sporadically for the time being.

Plus, there is always Liz.  She is known for taking long stretches off inexplicably, so keep she might be posting regularly and it just seems to be a big break.

Please keep us in your feed reader, and if you don’t use a feed reader...how the hell do you keep up with the blogs you read?  Do you just click on them randomly everyday?  That seems very inefficient.  You should work on that.

Right now many of you have seen that I posted and came here from your feed reader to see what I deemed worthy to crawl out of my hole to blog about, only to find out I am telling you I am not going to post.  I don’t blame you for being pissed off about that.