September 30, 2005
How to Make Shopping Fun
If you find yourself at a shopping mall this weekend and want to have a little fun, go to the nicest department store you can find (Neiman Marcus is ideal) and walk around for a few minutes in search of the most prissy looking shopper you can find. When you think you’ve spotted her (it will undoubtedly be a “her”), walk up to the woman and say, “Excuse me, Miss. Will you please tell me where YOUR restrooms are located?” If you are greeted by a friendly individual who tries to help you locate the restrooms, you have failed. Try again. If you are greeted with a scoff that is coupled with words like, “How am I supposed to know; I do NOT work here,” congratulations on a job well done.
Posted by fool at 12:25 AM | Comments (3)September 29, 2005
Don't Support Scumbags: Tell Roman, "NO"
If O.J. Simpson starred in a new film, would you pay to see it? Of course you wouldn’t (I hope). No sane person would choose to contribute to the coffers of a man who brutally murdered his ex-wife and her boyfriend, especially if that man avoided any significant punishment for his horrendous crime. (After Stalin died, the Soviet Union eventually de-Stalinized movies, erasing Uncle Joe’s image from “historical” films that were about as factually accurate about matters involving (or not involving) Stalin as Dan Rather is about matters involving (or not involving) Bush (hey, it’s late and it’s all I could come up with – give me a break!). Why is it that Russia, an interesting, but undeniably inferior country when compared to the United States, has found a way to wipe Stalin out of its films while the United States sits in idle mode and does nothing to erase the memory that was O.J. Simpson’s acting career? Seriously, how hard would it be to just digitally edit all O.J. Simpson scenes and replace Simpson with Ahmad Rashad? I cannot be alone in thinking that The Naked Gun – perhaps the finest comedy ever made – is forever tainted due to the presence of the double homicide-committing, satellite-pirating thug named O.J. (Wouldn’t you love to see Dianne Sawyer or Mike Wallace or any respectable news journalist (i.e. not Katie Couric) interview Simpson’s children (the ones he had with Nicole). What on earth must those two think of the old man these days? Can you imagine Thanksgiving. “Daddy, I know you didn’t kill mommy, but honestly, you killed her, didn’t you?”))
What if a rapist directed a new film? Would you go see his movie? I’m not talking about a Kobe Bryant-style rape, i.e. one that may or may not have happened. I’m talking about a genuine rape. If the thought of supporting such a horrid “human” being disgusts you, may I suggest that you do not see Oliver Twist, Roman Polanski’s latest film. (If you've seen the preview, you know that this isn’t the type of movie that will be difficult to skip.) In case the following flew under your radar, Polanksi raped a 13-year-old American girl in 1977. The little weasel didn’t want to be punished for committing rape, so he fled to Paris where he has resided for the last three decades. (France won’t extradite his sorry ass because Polanski is a French citizen. (Remind me that if I ever want to get away with rape to obtain French citizenship, commit the crime outside of France and then head back to France to sip coffee and smoke cigarettes with the merry folk.)) In addition to directing a film here and there, Polanski has been busy filing libel lawsuits when his good name has been tarnished by magazines. One can only hope that Polanski faces the music one day for raping a young girl. Until that day arrives, we can do our part by not seeing any of his films and by praying that Polanski gets eaten by a Grizzly bear.
Posted by fool at 05:24 AM | Comments (7)September 28, 2005
Golf: The "I want to be like Ev" Edition - Part I
Background: My dad used to be friends (I’m using that word in its most liberal sense) with a man named Ev. Ev thought EVERYTHING in life was a competition. For example, when he saw me at the dog track one night (I was a teenager), Ev immediately approached me and asked, “Fool, how much did you hit your superfecta for when you hit it cold?” When I responded, “Just over $300,” Ev quickly exclaimed, “I beat ya. I hit one for $500.” When my brother made the junior varsity high school basketball team as a freshman, Ev said, “You mean to tell me that he’s only playing on the JV squad? I played on varsity my first year!” A few weeks after my mom had some skin cancer removed from her nose, Ev asked her, “Is your nose ever going to get better?” (A real charmer!) But my all-time favorite comment took place one night when completely out of the blue, Ev told me, a teenager, “Sue (his wife) has had the hardest time keeping her weight down since her hysterectomy.” I should have replied, "Well in that case, I'll start fantasizing about her."
According to my dad, Ev was a real treat on the golf course as well. (By "real treat," I mean total douche bag.) The few times they played together, my dad would return home with some fantastic stories about Ev. There was the time when my dad’s friend, a man more honest than Abe Lincoln, George Washington, and Walter Cronkite combined, accidentally miscalculated his score on one hole. Ev immediately exclaimed, “Boy, there’s nothing I hate more than playing with a CHEATER!” Then there was the time when Ev said, “Everyone is always complimenting Phil on how far he hits the ball even though I usually outdrive him by at least 20 yards.”
To say Ev's personality could get under a person's skin would be akin to saying, "The sun might be hot."
The Idea: The other day, my brother and I came up with a fabulous “what if” question. “What if we went to play golf one day and both of us acted like Ev the entire time?” (For you non-golfers out there, if you are playing as a twosome, unless the course is incredibly void of players, you usually will get paired up with two strangers.) We knew it would be difficult. After all, Ev is a jerk and he also has a very weird voice. In fact, whenever we try to mimic him, we sound like we are from some nonexistent country in Eastern Europe. Nevertheless, on Tuesday, we set out to give it a try.
(To be continued . . .)
Read the rest of the story by clicking here.
Posted by fool at 05:07 AMSeptember 27, 2005
The Random Brain Drain: Catering to those with A.D.D. by Changing Topics Every Paragraph!
The Philosophical Query: Assume God and heaven exist. If you knew you were an awful human being who was going to inflict great harm on the world, but chose to kill yourself instead of inflicting that harm, what do you suppose God would think about your decision? (My belief is reflected in my latest 55 Fiction Entry.)
Linking to Amusement: Remember the golf ranger who openly theorized (in front of a Japanese man) that all Asian golfers are either really fast or really slow? Apparently, he didn’t get the memo.
Be St. Peter for a Day: Maury Povich. Heaven or Hell?
Supermarket Entertainment: If you’ve got time to kill and find yourself in a grocery store, try secretly putting a box of condoms in an elderly woman’s shopping cart. Follow her to the check-out line and, well, trust me! It’s amusing (especially if the condoms are Magnums)!
An Extra Nice Diamond in the Rough: Although you should visit all of the sites linked to from this page, one site deserves an extra amount of praise. I wish I had thought of the concept. Apparently, a book deal is in the works...
There's Room for One More: Yesterday, I watched Lilo and Stitch for the third time in my life. Add it to the list of films that you should see at some point in time.
Not Again: The short-term lease I signed in June will expire in a few days. This has resulted in my battling management...again. Perhaps I really ought to employ the Columbo "trick" this time. (If you're new to the site, I highly recommend reading about the Columbo trick.)
Posted by fool at 06:24 AMSeptember 26, 2005
Reason #219 Not to Get a Tattoo
There are many reasons to get a tattoo. You might be in love. You might be drunk. You might have a 50% off coupon that expires soon. (Please note, I wrote, “There are many reasons to get a tattoo.” I did not write, “There are many GOOD reasons to get a tattoo.”) Although there is an exception to every rule (and I've seen some of the exceptions), getting a tattoo is usually about as brilliant as using a corkscrew to remove wax from your ears.
Exhibit A, a quote from a recent story: “[Kimberly Stewart] reportedly had to have a tattoo on her stomach altered from ‘Daddy’s Little Girl Loves Cisco’ to ‘Daddy’s Little Girl Loves Disco.’”
I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know who Kimberly Stewart is. I also don’t know who Cisco Adler is. However, from context clues, I’ve determined that Ms. Stewart and Mr. Adler are famous and dated each other at some point. I’ve also come to the conclusion that Ms. Stewart decided that it would be a nifty idea to get some moronic phrase tattooed across her stomach in tribute to Mr. Adler. Now that she no longer wants to pay tribute to Mr. Adler, Ms. Stewart finds herself paying tribute to disco. Could be worse, I guess. Instead of dating some joker named Cisco, Ms. Stewart could have fallen for a guy named, “Teces.” (Think about it.)
Posted by fool at 06:53 AM | Comments (2)September 23, 2005
55 Fiction - Volume II
“Welcome to heaven!” St. Peter exclaimed. “Better than you imagined, isn’t it?”
Ted rubbed his eyes and looked around. His fingers probed his forehead, but couldn’t find the hole that they knew was there.
“What about all that stuff about not going to heaven if you kill yourself?”
“God rewards the truly unselfish, Master Bundy.”
September 22, 2005
An Open Letter from Amber Frey’s Daughter to Santa
Dear Santa,
My request is a bit unusual this year, so I wanted to get it in as soon as possible. This year for Christmas I don’t want a new bicycle or a new Barbie doll or even a pony. This year, all I want is for you to somehow transform my mom from the slut that she is into a respectable human being. The other day, my mommy's attorney (a media whore in her own right) said, “Amber, in good faith, always believed that Mr. Flores was her child’s father.” Santa, Anthony Flores had been paying my mommy $175 each month to help care for me. He thought he was my daddy. I thought he was my daddy. My mommy, in good faith, thought he was my daddy. It turns out my actual daddy is Christopher Funch. He owns a restaurant called Porky’s Rib House. Apparently, he was one of at least two men who was porking my mommy when I was being conceived. Santa, kids at school have already started teasing me, telling me that my mommy is just like Mrs. Cartman on South Park. Eric Cartman didn’t know who his daddy was either because like my mommy, his mommy was having sex with multiple men when she conceived her child. I just don't understand. How can a mommy not know for certain who the daddy of her baby is? You shouldn't believe in good faith that a man is the daddy of your baby. That's something you need to know for certain, right?
In case you don’t get CNN at the North Pole, I thought I should tell you that my mommy also had sex with a man who ended up murdering his wife and his unborn child. That man’s on death row now. After having sex with that married man, my mommy started having sex with another man, a doctor. The doctor got her pregnant and that meant I got to have a new baby brother. I love my baby brother a lot. We’re really good friends. He's really young though so he doesn't know how big a slut our mommy is. I'm really scared that my mommy is going to give me another sibling. I'd love to have more siblings, but I have a feeling my mommy's not going to know who the daddy is. I think it's just impossible for her to keep from spreading her legs for more than one man in any given week. I don't want my friends to see her on Maury some day with a bunch of guys taking paternity tests to determine who is my sibling's daddy. I really hate feeling this way.
Santa, can you please make my mommy not be such a slut? I really don't care that she likes to have so many men inside her. I just wish she'd maybe make some of the men wear condoms or maybe even go on the pill. Thus, if you can't keep my mommy from being such a slut, could you at least give her a year's supply of birth control pills? I doubt she'd remember to take one every day, but I'd really appreciate it if you at least gave her the chance. If you do this for me, I'll never ask for another gift again. At least, not until I'm pregnant.
Love,
Amber Frey’s Daughter
P.S. - I'm going to leave you your favorite cookies on Christmas Eve, so don't forget to come to my home! If nothing else, I'm pretty sure my mommy will have sex with you if you want to! And there shouldn't be a lot of risk because she'll probably already be pregnant again by that point in time!
Posted by fool at 04:33 AM | Comments (17)September 21, 2005
From the “This Isn't Really Happening, Is It?" File
My brother, mom, and I recently played golf at a beautiful Southern California course. Because we were a threesome, the club randomly paired us up with a single player who turned out to be an incredibly nice businessman from Japan. (Japan is a country in Asia. Trust me. That detail is important.) My brother, my mom, “Kaz” and I played incredibly fast together, devouring the first nine holes in record time. I shared a cart with Kaz and practiced my two Japanese jokes on him. (He laughed at both. The jokes appear below.) When we arrived at the twelfth hole (a par 3), we had to wait to hit our tee shots because a foursome of Asians was on the green. The golf ranger (the dude with the funny hat who drives around the course to make sure everything is kosher) happened to be passing by and noticed that we were waiting. I suspect that he was in his late 60s.
Golf Ranger: (In a tone that seemed to indicate that he was proud to be able to ask the question) Do you know how many minutes that group of ASIANS started ahead of you guys?
Thinking Fool’s Brother: No. How many?
Golf Ranger: SIXTY!
Thinking Fool’s Brother: Six, Zero?
Golf Ranger: Six, Zero!
Thinking Fool’s Brother: Wow, we’ve played really fast.
Golf Ranger: Well, not only have you guys played fast, these ASIAN people have played really slow. Let me tell you something. ASIANS EITHER PLAY REALLY FAST OR THEY PLAY REALLY SLOW! THERE’S NO IN BETWEEN WITH THESE PEOPLE.
Thinking Fool’s Brother: (Undoubtedly feeling uncomfortable that the Ranger was going off on Asians considering that a very nice Japanese man happened to be in our group and was listening to the entire conversation) “Oh.”
Golf Ranger: In fact, this place was really stupid. It ran a bunch of ads in some Korean newspaper. It was some 2 for 1 thing. So, we’ve ended up with all these damn Koreans out here lately. (I'm surprised he didn't say "Damn dog-eating Koreans!" After all, he seemed to be on such a roll.")
Thinking Fool, Thinking Fool’s Brother, Thinking Fool’s Mom & Kaz: (Pure silence)
Golf Ranger: Oh, well it looks like they’re finally off the green, so I’ll be on my way.
Thinking Fool: (Thinking) Thank God! Is he really that oblivious?
I literally remember wondering if I was on Candid Camera or if the golf ranger was somehow related to Saturday Night Live's "Mr. No-Depth Perception" character.
-----------------------------------------------------
And now, the promised Japanese jokes - guaranteed to make a native Japanese-speaker laugh.
Japanese Joke #1
Q: Nahn-jee?
A: (Say this before the other person can actually answer the question) Or-en-jee!
Japanese Joke #2
Q: Nahn-sigh?
A: (Say this before the other person can actually answer the question) Hawk-oo-sigh!
The literal English translation for those jokes is the following:
Japanese Joke #1
Q: What time is it?
A: Orange!
Japanese Joke #2
Q: How old are you?
A: Cabbage!
All I can tell you is that most Japanese people find these jokes funny. Perhaps the golf ranger could learn one or both. That way, he might have something to talk about with the "fast" Asians (assuming they speak Japanese) while they wait for the "slow" Asians to play golf.
Posted by fool at 04:55 AM | Comments (3)September 20, 2005
How to Handle Little League Parents: A Case Study
When my dad coached Little League, he always made the players’ parents attend a meeting after the first practice. Although this gave the parents an opportunity to ask my dad questions (such as, "You're not going to touch our kids, right?"), the meeting’s essential purpose was to put parents on notice that the only comments my dad wanted to hear come from their mouths were positive ones.
One year, the worst player on the team had a particularly negative father (why does that always seem to happen?). After watching his son strike out for the third time one game, the father yelled from the stands, “Why did you strike out?” My dad screamed back, “SO HE COULD EMBARRASS YOU!” That particular father never said another negative word. (He probably beat his son at home instead.)
Posted by fool at 05:23 AM | Comments (3)September 19, 2005
How to Get Rid of the New Co-Worker When that New Co-Worker is a Coffee-Throwing Jerk!
Is a new co-worker ruining your life? When you try to talk to this new co-worker, does he throw hot coffee in your face? Has this new co-worker ever tried to have you killed? If you, like millions of working men and women, answered yes to all of these questions, the Thinking Fool may be able to help. Although you could talk to your boss or even the police, why on earth would you handle things in a mature, dignified manner when you have the opportunity to explore an alternative source of problem-solving? My solution is simple and easy to implement (especially if there is a Mexican restaurant nearby). Your job is easy. Start taking frequent, yet random dumps in the bathroom that is closest to your co-worker's office. Never flush. Even if you've left a tsunami of waste in the toilet that would make a mortician, janitor, and proctologist vomit, NEVER FLUSH. If you must, get a specialty magnet made for your fridge which states, "Never Ever Ever Ever Flush." (This might not be good to leave up if you expect to be doing any dating.) Soon - very soon - people will start complaining about the employee who isn't flushing the toilet. Let people talk for a few days. Let the office buzz. Then when you sense that the time is right (and you will sense that it is right) say to the queen of office gossip, "Don't tell anyone, but I heard the non-flusher is the New Guy." Bye-bye co-worker, hello promotion (or termination). If nothing else, at least you'll have an excuse to eat a lot of Mexican food.
Posted by fool at 03:59 AM | Comments (1)September 16, 2005
55 Fiction, Here I Come - Volume 1
After being inspired by Neel Mehta's blog, I plan to give the world of 55 Fiction a try from time to time. In a nutshell, 55 Fiction requires writers to pen fictional tales using no more than 55 words. Sounds fun, yes?
“How much does it cost?”
“Normally, 15,000. But, seeing hows I can’t take advantage of a widow, I’m going to give it to yous for 12.”
He knew he had the sale when he saw her reach into her purse.
“You shouldn’t take advantage of people.”
Before he could say a word, he was gone.Posted by fool at 03:39 AM | Comments (5)
September 15, 2005
Excuse me, is that a Grizzly Bear Growing in your Ear?
Is there a tactful way of telling a person that he has too much ear hair?
Last weekend, I played poker with a man who didn't have just a little bit of hair protruding from his ears. Instead, his ears looked like they had been hijacked by a high school biology instructor-gone-crazy and used in some crazy science experiment to make a person's ears look as unattractive as humanly possible. (The experiment succeeded!) It goes without saying that the man is not married (unless his wife hates his guts and wants him to look like some creature from the Ice Age while he roams around Southern California). It was hard not to stare at the man's ears - I felt like a rubbernecker driving by a horrific traffic accident - I wanted to look away, but simply couldn't despite my best efforts. Needless to say, I hope this man hasn't fathered any children. However, what concerns me more is thinking about what I should say to the man if I see him again. I'm leaning towards saying, "Sir, you have the ugliest ears I have ever seen in my life. Please trim your ear hair immediately. You disgust me. You are a disgusting human being." That gets to the point while still being respectful, right?
September 14, 2005
Brian Williams - An Anchor Maturing Before Our Eyes
Isn't it hard to think back to the time when Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw were just starting out as the evening news anchors on ABC and NBC? It's particularly difficult for me considering the fact that I was still well entrenched in the single digit years and spent my time being far more concerned over matters such as whether King Friday was going to order the beheading of one of the puppets in Mr. Rogers' "Neighborhood of Make Believe" than I was in watching the evening news programs. (For the record, no puppets were ever beheaded to the best of my knowledge). In fact, I distinctly remember turning on PBS during the evenings and being quite displeased with its programming (not much has changed). (Don't you think it would be an awesome April Fools joke on children if one day all of their favorite television characters went postal on the other characters? Needless to say, the children's television programmers are knocking at my door on a very frequent basis. And by "frequent," I mean there has been no contact whatsoever.)
Even though I can't recall the time when Jennings and Brokaw were anything but veteran anchors, I have no doubt that the two were quite green when they permanently took over the anchor chairs on ABC and NBC. That leads me to wonder if there was a defining moment in the two men's careers when they experienced a metamorphosis, transitioning from the new kids on the block - trying to live up to the standards of Huntley, Brinkley, and Cronkite - into the respected anchors that we all knew towards the end of their tenures on the evening news programs.
If there are defining moments for network anchors, Brian Williams had his a few days into the Hurricane Katrina coverage. Williams has been the anchor of the NBC Nightly News for less than a year (and with Dan Rather's overdue ouster and Jennings' unexpected death, Williams is actually the dean of nightly news anchors at this point in time). Williams is a genuinely likeable human being with a wickedly wonderful (how's that for alliteration) sense of humor (anybody who has seen or heard him interviewed will undoubtedly share my view). However, despite being incredibly talented, he's still quite young (at least by television standards). With that stated, Brian Williams has done a remarkable job covering Hurricane Katrina, especially in the days following the storm's fury. Like Ted Koppel, Williams has asked tough questions at the right times. He has also expressed outrage when outrage has needed to be expressed. He has just done one heck of a job. He truly is an anchor maturing before our very eyes. It's an interesting process to watch.
There's no doubt that I'd still like to have the option of watching Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw cover a breaking news story. However, if Brian Williams continues to turn in Katrina-esque performances, we've got another legend on our hands.
Posted by fool at 02:12 AM | Comments (3)September 13, 2005
Because Hollywood Won't Make any Good Movies, We Might have to start traveling to Blockbuster! Two Reviews Followed by "THE LIST!"
While I was studying for the bar exam, I remember being upset that I couldn't spend more time seeing movies. After viewing just about every film Hollywood has thrown our way over the last month and a half, I'm starting to think that my lack of movie-watching availability pre-bar exam was a blessing rather than a curse! The Constant Gardener is the latest dud to grace the silver screen.
Haunted by remorse and jarred by rumors of his late wife's infidelities, Quayle (not Dan) surprises everyone by embarking on a personal odyssey that will take him across three continents. Using his privileged access to diplomatic secrets, he will risk his own life, stopping at nothing to uncover and expose the truth - a conspiracy more far-reaching and deadly than Quayle (still not Dan) could ever have imagined.
The description makes the film sound like a thrilling mystery, doesn't it? Well, trust me, the only thing thrilling about this "mystery" is when the screen fades to black and the credits start to roll. Don't misunderstand; the movie isn't horrible. Unfortunately, it's just not very good. Ralph Fiennes does an excellent job as usual (though how he and Edward Norton were chosen to play the roles of the "Tooth Fairy" and Special Agent Will Graham in Red Dragon is still something I cannot comprehend). The weird looking lady who plays Fiennes' wife, Rachel Weisz, also turns in a nice performance. In the end, however, I just didn't care. I didn't care that she ended up in a body bag. I didn't care that her friend ended up in a body bag. Hell, I didn't care about anyone who ended up in a bodybag. Apparently the book is quite good. Thus, if you have nothing better to do and plan to see this film, you might pony up a couple extra dollars and buy the paperback instead of the paper movie ticket. Thinking Fool's Final Grade: C.
Last weekend's big box office winner was The Exorcism of Emily Rose. In the words of Mr. Burns, I know what I hate, and I didn't hate this. Of course, it's the summer of 2005 which means the bar has been set so low that we've resorted to being happy when we leave a theater not hating a movie as opposed to withholding happiness for times when we leave a theater actually liking the film! Tom Wilkinson is no Max von Sydow (the main priest in The Exorcist), but then again nobody is! There was some courtroom stuff, and it appears that everyone tried real hard, so if you must, you must. Thinking Fool's Final Grade: C-.
The movies this summer have been absolutely horrendous. There's no reason to think things are going to improve anytime soon. That's why I've compiled a list of films which you should see before you die (try not to cram them all into the last week - word on the street is that Uday and Qusay tried to do that and they never got around to watching Titanic. That's right, Titanic!). In no particular order...
Fletch (Chevy Chase's best film)
Fletch Lives (Chevy Chase's second greatest film)
The Naked Gun (Funniest movie ever made)
Silence of the Lambs (A perfect storm)
Pleasantville (Amazing!)
Beverly Hills Cop (It was my favorite movie when I saw it in the theater when I was 6 and it remains my favorite movie to this day! (At least my parents weren't taking me to porns!))
Beverly Hills Cop 2 (Actually a tremendous sequel. Part III spoiled the franchise.)
Halloween and Halloween 2 (These are worth seeing simply because of Donald Pleasance's performances....so are parts 4 and 5 for that matter!)
A Man for All Seasons (Hard not to admire Thomas More after seeing this film)
Scent of a Woman (Hooah!)
And Justice for All (One of Pacino's finest performances. Rent it just to see Pacino's final courtroom scene if nothing else.)
The Game (A thrill ride)
Porky's (An absolute must if you liked American Pie)
Citizen X (Even the Soviet Union had serial killers...imagine that in the Evil Empire!)
Narrow Margin (Hackman is superb and it's on a train. What more can you want?)
The Shawshank Redemption (If you haven't seen this, you must not have TNT. You also must be an absolute jerk. Who hasn't seen The Shawshank Redemption? Even Terry Schiavo probably found a way to watch this film.)
Midnight Run (DeNiro and Grodin are amazing)
Meet the Parents (A must)
Rounders (You too can be inspired to lose money after watching this!)
Good Will Hunting (Too bad Affleck was in it)
Titanic (I don't care if everyone denies liking this movie. I loved it and paid to see it TWICE!)
The American President (One of the best romantic comedies out there)
Pretty Woman (Hooking doesn't sound so bad, does it?)
Meet Joe Black (Only saw it once, but loved it)
Copycat (Scary)
Se7en (Scary and nasty)
Casino (Beats Goodfellas every day of the week and twice on Tuesdays)
The Elephant Man (Not too cheery, but very worth seeing)
Die Hard
The Sixth Sense
Patriot Games (I mastered my Irish accent by watching this film. And by "master," I mean "try real hard, but don't sound anything like an Irish man.")
And the Band Played On (HBO's finest effort. If you only see one movie on this list, make it this one)
These ought to keep you busy. If not, we'll just have to think of something else.
Posted by fool at 01:03 AM | Comments (12)September 12, 2005
"Oh, I know How We Can Get People to Choose Us to Bail Them Out of Jail! We Can Offer Them a Free Shirt!"
If you ever find yourself in San Diego in need of a bail bonds agency, may I suggest going with Aloha Bail Bonds. Over the weekend, I saw a commercial for Aloha Bail Bonds and although I was not in a position to actually hear the audio portion of the television ad, apparently if you let Aloha bail you out of jail, the agency will give you a free T-shirt! I can just imagine it now...
Aloha Bail Bonds Employee: “Aloha Bail Bonds, may I help you?”
Criminal: “Are you the bail bonds agency that’ll give me a free shirt if I let you bail me out of jail?”
Aloha Bail Bonds Employee: “We sure are.”
Criminal: “What color is the shirt?”
Aloha Bail Bonds Employee: “You can choose from one of four colors, red, black, white, or navy.”
Criminal: “Is there any way I can get all four?”
Aloha Bail Bonds Employee: “If you get arrested two more times and have us post your bail for you on both occasions, we give you two shirts on your third arrest! So in actuality, when it should take you four arrests to obtain all four colors, you can do it in just three! It might sound difficult, but it’s actually far simpler than you’d think.”
Criminal: “Damn, I wish I had heard about you guys two years ago. I kept going with these other bastards that didn’t give me crap.”
Here’s my question. Do you really think there is any person alive who would choose a bail bonds company because the bail bonds company was offering a free T-shirt? Unfortunately, I bet there are dozens of people out there who have chosen Aloha for this very reason. (I say this after having taught a Street Law class!) Needless to say, I strongly urge Congress or the California State Legislature to consider passing legislation making it a crime for people who wear “Aloha Bail Bonds Agency” shirts to procreate (the law would obviously not apply to Aloha employees). While they’re at it, our esteemed legislators might also consider passing a similar law for people who wear Marlboro shirts! Whenever I see folks sporting those, I always think, "Now there's a person I definitely want to meet!"
Posted by fool at 05:54 AM | Comments (8)September 09, 2005
Ted Koppel is a Stud
ABC execs should do everything in their power to keep Ted Koppel from leaving the network at the end of the year (he didn't renew his contract and Nightline's future is in jeopardy). We need men like Koppel on network television. Watch him cut through the bull during an interview with FEMA Director Michael Brown.
Posted by fool at 05:05 AM | Comments (2)September 06, 2005
The Former Teacher Becomes a Book Hawker... and I'm NOT Pleased!
Don’t you love randomly hearing from someone whom you haven’t heard from in awhile? Even the Cigarette Peddler, the person who told me that he would be okay with a large knife going through my heart, recently admitted that he enjoys receiving random postcards from me. (By the way, if you would like to be added to the random postcard list, email me your name and address at ThinkingFool at gmail dot com and I will be certain to get one out to you at some point before the second Bush administration comes to an end. (FYI, if you’re certain that I have your address, but you’ve never received a postcard from me, I probably don't have your address (or I just might not like you at all).))
The other day, I received the following completely random email message from a woman who used to teach at my elementary school.
Dear, [Thinking Fool],
I am always interested in what friends from [my elementary school] are doing, and I want you to know my book,[Title], has been published. The book, based on my life and 39 years teaching, is now available from my web site, < http:// > and from the usual sources, Amazon, Barnes&Noble, the publisher, < www.publishamerica.com>, etc.
Regards to your family,
[Woman’s Name]
I was tempted to reply to this random email, but decided that in the interest of being a nice person, I would refrain from sending what I wanted to send. I wonder if I made the right decision.
"Dear Mrs. C.,
I was stunned to see your name appear in my inbox. After all, I haven’t been an elementary school student for more than thirteen years. If my memory serves me correctly, you taught English at my elementary school. I always liked when English teachers offered comments on papers; so I thought I would offer some comments on your email to me. I will write comments in ALL CAPS within the text of your message in order to clearly differentiate my words from yours. While most people would tell you that you should not interpret my use of ALL CAPS as screaming at you, I am not most people. Accordingly, please interpret my use of ALL CAPS as screaming at you. Feel free to give me your phone number if you'd like me to scream at you over the phone.
Dear, [Fool],
IT’S BEEN AWHILE SINCE I STUDIED GRAMMAR AND PUNCTUATION. BECAUSE YOU WERE AN ENGLISH TEACHER AND PRESUMABLY AN EXPERT IN GRAMMAR AND PUNCTUATION, YOU’LL HAVE TO TELL ME ABOUT THE NEW PUNCTUATION RULE THAT INSTRUCTS THE AUTHOR OF A LETTER TO INSERT A COMMA BETWEEN “DEAR” AND A PERSON’S NAME IN THE LETTER’S GREETING. ASSUMING THERE IS NOT A NEW RULE, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT YOU’VE ALREADY MADE A PUNCTUATION ERROR (OR AT LEAST A TYPO) WITHIN THE FIRST TWO WORDS OF YOUR FIRST COMMUNICATION TO ME (EVER!!!!!!!), I FEEL COMFORTABLE DIAGNOSING YOUR EDITING SKILLS AS NOTHING SHORT OF BRILLIANT (THAT’S HOLDEN CAULFIELD-SARCASM COMING THROUGH) AND CONFESS THAT I AM NOW OFFICIALLY OVERJOYED THAT I NEVER HAD YOU AS A TEACHER!
I am always interested in what friends from [my elementary school] are doing,
WELL, THEN YOU CERTAINLY WILL NOT BE INTERESTED IN WHAT I AM DOING BECAUSE EVEN UNDER THE MOST LIBERAL CONSTRUCTION OF WHAT THE WORD “FRIEND” MEANS, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT WE’VE NEVER EVEN SPOKE TO EACH OTHER, THERE IS NO POSSIBLE WAY WE CAN BE CONSIDERED FRIENDS.
and I want you to know my book,[Title], has been published.
NOW THAT CERTAINLY WAS SUBTLE. I’VE NEVER RECEIVED A SPAM MESSAGE FROM SOMEONE WHOSE NAME I ACTUALLY RECOGNIZE! SINCE IT IS CLEAR THAT YOU ARE CONTACTING EVERY PERSON FROM THE ALUMNI DIRECTORY REGARDLESS OF WHETHER YOU EVER TAUGHT THAT PERSON, IN FUTURE DRAFTS OF YOUR EMAIL, MAY I SUGGEST CHANGING THIS SENTENCE TO: “I AM VERY INTERESTED IN GETTING PEOPLE TO BUY MY BOOK, AND I AM USING ANY POSSIBLE CONNECTION I HAVE WITH PEOPLE AS AN EXCUSE TO CONTACT THEM TO INFORM THEM THAT I’VE WRITTEN A BOOK. I DON’T REALLY GIVE A CRAP ABOUT YOUR LIFE, BUT IF YOU PROMISE TO BUY MY BOOK, THEN FEEL FREE TO SEND ME A FEW WORDS ABOUT YOURSELF IF YOU MUST. AND BY “FEW,” I LITERALLY MEAN NO MORE THAN THREE.
The book, based on my life and 39 years teaching, is now available from my web site, < http:// > and from the usual sources, Amazon, Barnes&Noble, the publisher, < www.publishamerica.com>, etc.
CONGRATULATIONS ON HAVING THE BOOK AVAILABLE AT SO MANY DIFFERENT PLACES! I CAN’T WAIT TO READ IT. PLEASE SEND ME MY COURTESY COPY AT (MY ADDRESS). (I ASSUME ALL OF YOUR "FRIENDS" RECEIVE FREE COPIES OF THE BOOK.) I WILL CERTAINLY SEND YOU A COURTESY COPY OF MY FIRST BOOK WHICH IS DUE IN STORES EVERYWHERE BY 2022. HEAVENS TO MERGATROID, YOU'LL PROBABLY BE DEAD BY THEN, FRIEND.
Regards to your family,
[Woman’s Name]
REGARDS TO YOUR FAMILY TOO! I’VE NEVER MET ANY OF THEM, NOR HAVE I EVER MET YOU! NEVERTHELESS, I’VE ALWAYS CONSIDERED YOU TO BE ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE CLOSEST FRIENDS. I FEEL LIKE I AM TO YOU WHAT GLENN CLOSE WAS TO MICHAEL DOUGLAS IN FATAL ATTRACTION AND TO THINK, WE HAVEN’T EVEN MET! IMAGINE HOW CLOSE WE’D BE IF WE ACTUALLY GOT TOGETHER IN PERSON. :-) :-) :-) :-)
ETERNALLY YOURS FOREVER, MY LOVE,
THINKING FOOL (XOXOXOXOXOXO)
P.S. I WON'T TELL YOUR HUSBAND ABOUT US UNLESS YOU STOP WRITING ME SUCH HEARTFELT, TOUCHING EMAILS!
P.P.S. IF YOU STOP WRITING ME, I'D KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR RABBIT IF YOU HAVE ONE.
P.P.P.S. I LOVE YOU!
P.P.P.P.S. WAIT, DO YOU LOVE ME?
P.P.P.P.P.S. WHY HAVEN'T YOU EMAILED ME BACK YET? I'VE BEEN WRITING THIS MESSAGE FOR HOURS AND HAVEN'T RECEIVED A MESSAGE FROM YOU.
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. IF YOU DON'T WRITE ME BACK, I SWEAR I'M COMING OVER THERE TO TALK ABOUT THIS."
Do you want to know the sad part about all of this (aside from the fact that I got this worked up over an email)? I'm probably going to buy this woman's book, and I bet it's pretty good. (I've heard she was an amazing teacher. She happened to leave my school for a better one a few years before I would have had her.) Indeed, it's people like me who encourage spammers to keep sending spam. Clearly I should not be allowed to procreate.
Posted by fool at 06:09 AM | Comments (1)September 02, 2005
Random Story #213: You're Supposed to Feel Good During and After a Massage, Right? I guess One out of Three Ain't Bad.
I have had three professional massages in my life. The first was so painful that I refused to get a second for a few years. I remember leaving the massage parlor on that hot afternoon thinking, "This lady can't possibly have any repeat customers." My mom had purchased me the massage as a gift; so I called her on my drive home and asked if she was mad at me. Why else would a mother subject her youngest child to an hour of sheer pain? It turns out that my mom didn’t realize that the masseuse was going to massage me in a way that would have made medieval torture chamber personnel quite proud. It is true that I could have told the masseuse that she was hurting me while she was hurting me, but I was under the impression that because she did this for a living, she probably knew what she was doing. Color me a fool. (At least I am a thinking fool!) Needless to say, when the masseuse ended our session by saying, “I hope to see you again,” I wanted to reply, “I’d go to prison before getting another massage from you, lady.”
Fast forward a few years to the winter of 2004. I decided to redeem a gift certificate for a massage right after my last final exam for the semester. When masseuse number two asked me what kind of massage I wanted, I replied, “Just make me feel good. The only other time I’ve had this done, I was in pain for two days.” The masseuse seemed somewhat baffled by my response, but clearly got the message because for half an hour, she made my body feel amazing (and no, there was no special finish involved). “Now that’s what a massage should feel like,” I thought. “I need to do this more often.”
“More often” took place at a mall in Australia.
“Would you like massage?” the Chinese woman asked after she saw me loitering around the front of her store staring at the menu of massage options. “Our prices are roughly equal to one dolla per minute. So, for thirty dolla, you get thirty minute massage."
“Oh what the hell,” I thought. “If nothing else, it will be an experience.”
I was right. It was an experience.
For about ten of the twenty-five minutes (apparently the dollar per minute pricing plan was more like one dollar for every fifty seconds), the woman massaged me with one hand while she paid her employees with the other hand. That certainly wasn’t distracting. And, I am certainly not being sarcastic right now.
Towards the end of the massage, when I was actually feeling somewhat relaxed despite only getting a one-handed rubdown for much of the time, the woman took both of her hands and opened them so that her palms were exposed. Then the woman started slapping my head repeatedly for a few minutes. She didn't lightly touch my head with her open hands; she slapped me like she was trying to rid my head of evil spirits. Why not just take a dumbbell and knock me upside the head with that?
I didn't tip the third masseuse. Not only was I a bit miffed that my massage was five minutes shorter than it was supposed to be (though I probably should have been thankful for that), I needed to spend that extra money on Advil. After all, the head can only get slapped so many times before it starts hurting on the inside and outside.
Needless to say, I'm quite curious as to how massage number four will go.
Posted by fool at 04:05 PM | Comments (1)