Thursday, March 29, 2012

KIDZ CHURCH.

Who sent this to me?

It's an invitation to the grand opening of The Rising church's (or maybe it's not capitalized, and "rising" is just employed as an adjective to describe the church? I don't know) Jonestown-style complex on Easter Sunday. I shouldn't have made that Jonestown reference. It was kind of funny though. But The Rising is probably not a cult. They do seem to like the rock and roll, though. What is most interesting about this is the handwriting on the envelope the invitation came in:

It looks kind of like grandma handwriting to me. But not that of either of my grandmas. So out there somewhere is someone else's grandma who cares enough about me to invite me to a new church. And also she goes to a rock and roll church, that puts an emphasis on avoiding "boredom, irrelevancy and judgment" (the rock music ought to help with that - also, isn't the concept of judgment at the core of Christianity? Isn't that why we're all being so good? I may be taking this out of context). Kidz church, indeed.


Thursday, March 15, 2012

Holding a chicken.

There are a few things about holding a chicken that I want to address in this weblog post. These are by no means pointers - there are lots of places online where you can get more pointers on chickens than you could ever hope to put to practical use (unless you were a chicken scientist, in which case the more information the better, I suppose) - these are just observations.

Someone who has never held a chicken before, and is facing the opportunity, might be pretty excited about it, because for many people a chicken is something that you know is out there making the eggs you buy at the store, but is part of a simpler, rustic world far removed from our own. Of course, for most people on Earth, chickens are pest-pets who exist as a tangible part of daily life to make food and to be food. But the following set of thoughts is more pertinent to the ideologue who looks forward to holding a chicken as a way to grasp another life far past, a time when people were called folks and the only thing to fear was fear itself and twisters. Here is the truth about holding a chicken, darling ideologue:

- First of all, many chickens don't want to be held. In fact, many of them don't want hands laid on them at all. The ones who are okay with it usually do this cowering, submissive crouch as you reach for them, giving the impression that you can hold them, but it's going to make them terribly uncomfortable.

- If you manage to wrangle yourself a chicken who does not want to be held, you're in for a lot of frantic wing-flapping right in your face as she struggles to get free, and if you've ever heard any horror stories about the public health implications of pigeons, it will be hard not to imagine millions of lice zooming in every direction as the bird you're presently grappling with thrashes in your arms. Not that chickens commonly have lice (maybe they do, I don't know), but that image will probably be present in your mind. Especially after reading this.

- If you are lucky enough to have seized (or been handed) a bird who allows you to hold her, then what? There's not very much you can do with a chicken. I mean, it's not like you're holding a baby. So then you're just standing there holding a chicken.

So there you go. Food for thought.

Friday, March 9, 2012

Don't know what that means.

An email I recently received, interspersed with my own initial thoughts as I read it:


Thanks for the information. I'm a retired high school English teacher with thirty year's (years') experience working with adolescents. Actually, I was awarded Teacher of the Year by Betelgeuse School District in 1992... a while ago. Divorced seven year's ago, (Multiple ellipsis and "divorced seven year's ago"? I think this gentleman taught English to many of the other people I've received emails from.) I have three adult sons that are basically on their own (one lives in Russia) ("Basically" on his own - maybe this son lives in Russia with his mom. A lot of adults in Russia do that.) so I've had that experience as well... meaning the dynamic of single parenthood etc. I have a lot of spare time so I am curious about your program. I think I have three traffic tickets over about the last five years.... don't know what that means. (That means, sir, that you are not a perfect driver, nor are you very good at avoiding detection by law enforcement. Neither am I.) I'm an artist and would enjoy working with kids with art. (Does he mean kids that own art? I hope not, because those are hard to come by.) Do you have volunteers who teach classes? I'm not sure about the full year's commitment as I've planned on maybe traveling (He should go to Russia.) but I'm not sure about that either. Actually, I would like to maybe visit your facility and speak with someone in person. Thanks

-Supreme Vogon Prostetnic Jeltz.


This guy seems like a good guy, right? I'm going to give him a call. And I am being serious about that. We've had some fun with a few jokes, but now seriously I am going to call him.





Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Message clipped.

I just received this email from a guy who's trying to partner with our agency, but doesn't really seem to grasp the process of...anything...


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[Message clipped] View entire message


So, just to be thorough, I did click on the link to view the entire message. The entire message consisted of exactly 254,904 characters of the same stuff. My favorite part was the bit that said "QUAFAB" over and over again; that was riveting. I found myself really rooting for QUAFAB to stay consistent, but, alas, it eventually succumbed to "Boatow8j0", etc. Here's a screenshot of my email inbox. As you can see, he sent me this email more than once.



Thursday, January 26, 2012

OMG?!

OMG. It means "Oh my gosh", as you are likely aware. But isn't it getting a little stale? Isn't it SO two thousand-ten? Aren't we ready for a fresh acronym to express our delight, surprise, shock and even indignation? And so, in this moment of dire need, here am I with the answer. I just thought of it a moment ago, and it only took me three minutes to polish it for presentation to a waiting world. The new interjection acronym is "OBGYN".



OBGYN! Try it! Let it roll off your tongue with the attitude of a fourteen year-old who has just experienced her first twinge of jealous, hormonal anger! It stands for "Oh boy... Golly! Yikes! NO!" I think it's going to catch on. It's more fun than OMG because it has more letters. And the more letters you have in the acronym you spout forth as your best friend (BFF) tells you how hard he laughed (ROFL, or LMAO) when the middle school janitor accidentally tripped the science teacher with a mop bucket (ATWAMB), the more amplified your reaction will seem. "OBGYN, did you see her skirt?!" We're well on our way to a brighter tomorrow.


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

All aboard! part 2

Why is it that so many religious and political extremists in the Middle East and elsewhere want to blow Americans up, or chop their heads off with swords? I'm sure the answer is very nuanced and complicated. But I can't help but look at this ad and think that the face he is making is probably not helping the situation.


All aboard!

America! All aboard!




Japan! All aboard!



Who wants to go on a cruise with Glenn Beck? It promises to be liberty at sea! Nobody? Really? Now who wants to be crammed into a Tokyo metro car with about 400 other people by some uniformed metro butlers? No one? Well, what if I told you that you had to choose between the Japanese metro and the Glenn Beck boat? Aha, I knew we'd have more metro takers.