Monday, June 30, 2014

Facebook meme(s) of the day


HA HA HA HA SQUAT MEMES

I DON'T KNOW WHO THIS GUY IS BUT HE LOOKS MEAN AND MAD

THAT YOU'RE NOT SQUATTING MORE

YOU SHOULD SQUAT MORE

OTHER PEOPLE ARE INVESTED IN HOW OFTEN YOU SQUAT, APPARENTLY

IF SQUATTING IS HURTING YOUR VAGINA FOR REAL, YOU'RE PROBS DOING IT WRONG

JUST SAYING

PLAYING DEVIL'S ADVOCATE

BUT I'M NOT A PHYSICAL THERAPIST LIKE SQUATACUS O'ER THERE

HE IS THE AUTHORITY ON SQUATTING

AND VAGINA INJURIES (?)

(SAFE TO ASSUME WE'RE TALKING LEG EXERCISES HERE AND NOT OCCUPYING ABANDONED HOUSES)

(WHICH, TO MY KNOWLEDGE, DOESN'T ADVERSELY AFFECT VAGINAS)

THIS MEME SEEMS HELLA SPECIFIC

ISOLATED MEME MARKETING

TARGET: MEATHEAD SQUAT DUDES WHO ARE LEGIT OFFENDED AT OTHER DUDES' LACK OF SQUATTAGE

I CAN'T IMAGINE SQUAT MEMES ARE A THING


OH MY BAD THEY'RE A THING

MAURY SQUAT MEMES

GO GET 'EM MAURY

BRINGING DEADBEAT DADS AND LYING-ASS NON-LEG EXERCISERS TO JUSTICE SINCE 1991

YEAH BUT DOES MAURY SQUAT LOL

OH HE BE SQUATTIN'

#MAURY #SQUATMEMES

SERIOUSLY THOUGH YOU SHOULD SQUAT MORE


IMPORTANT UPDATE TO THIS POST:


Thursday, June 26, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Honest Call for you - From Suzzane H M

If nothing else, this seems honest.

Dear friend,

Are you talking to me or info@flippybaby.com?

To: indianspell@yahoo.com, indplsfeis@yahoo.com, info@4garlic.com, info@adoramedia.co.uk, info@arce.org, info@be-a-flirt.com, info@buckeyestatefeis.com, info@calgaryssea.ca, info@carrickfergus.org, info@chinabaroque.com, info@chocolatepizazz.com, info@cnyirishdance.com, info@europeantreasuresonline.com, info@feelgoodframes.com, info@feisinfo.com, info@feisnovascotia.com, info@feisworx.com, info@flf.butlerdancers.com, info@flippybaby.com, info@kcfeis.com, info@kittykeller.com, info@laughoutloudexpressions.com, info@mcmenaminacademy.com, info@minniebeasleys.com, info@nelleandlizzy.com, info@rivington.net.dele.te, info@robinclaytondesigns.com, info@scribblesndoodles.com, info@sextonacademy.com, info@sheajennings.com, info@shelleyirishdance.com, info@sseamtl.org, info@stewartschoolofirishdance.com, info@thechrystalranch.com, info@themastersuite.net, info@thessea.org, info@tucsonfeis.com, info@wimberlyinc.com, info@wineglace.com, infront1970@yahoo.com, inisfada2013@gmail.com, inisfadafeis2013@gmail.com, inishfreee@cs.com, inishfreefeis@aol.com, inishfreeinfo@gmail.com, investments@churckofskatin.com, iowahawk@mail.com, iris@grayschool.com, irish@mcteggartokc.org, irishdance@mindspring.com, irishdance@ryankilcoyneschool.com, irishdancetampa@gmail.com, irocgal@live.com, isaac_manny_johnsons@yahoo.com, isabel.stuenkel@metmuseum.org, it_is_known@yahoo.com, itsallaboutyou2@sbcglobal.net, itzick@netvision.net.il, ivanna2113@yahoo.com, iyfsc@yahoo.com, izettacoungeau@gmail.com, j-johnson@uchicago.edu, j.etheredge@sbcglobal.net, j.hellum@auckland.ac.nz, j_dirt@hotmail.com, ja-larson@uchicago.edu, jackie.jay@eku.edu, jackintheyok@yahoo.com, jacobwoolbright@hotmail.com, jacqueline.holden@fibreline.co.uk.dele.te, jacrod@hotmail.com, jaei@egypt.arizona.edu, jaell@aol.com, jagordon56@hotmail.com, jakebe@webtv.net, james.catterick.novels@xtra.co.nz, james.cleary07@comcast.net, james.dunn4@comcast.net, james.harrell@utoledo.edu, jamesbmanley@jamesbmanley.com, jamescrompton9d1@hotmail.com.dele.te, jameseclark@earthlink.net, jamespallen@brown.edu, jamie.corona@hotmail.com, jaminbellwood@webtv.net, jamklane1@yahoo.com, jandjhanson@talkgas.net.dele.te, janele@tcac.net, janeleoc@aol.com, janettetaylor@onetel.com.dele.te, jangisler@yahoo.com, janice.kamrin@metmuseum.org, janineannt@hotmail.com, janineidream@msn.com, jasonefranks@gmail.com, jasonmch17@hotmail.com, jax2phx@cox.net, jax2phx@gmail.com, jbaker72@crawler.com

I will assume you are talking to me.

First and foremost, accept my forgiveness for the intruding your privacy with this post without your prior notice.

Normally I prefer an email heads up that I am getting an email, and I am in the middle of a private chat. But, it's okay, I accept your forgiveness. For the ways in which I have wronged you?

I am Her Excellency Lady Suzanne Hosni Mubarak, the wife of President form Egypt.

I feel like I am in the Egyptian version of Downton Abbey, only the script has been written by a 6-year-old. This is fun!

Since February 2011 When My Husband stepped down from Egypt Presidency, we the Mubarak family Have Been Devastated by the Governments and military actions against us, They Have Seized all our accounts and business Both here and overseas and my husband sentenced to jail along with my two children, they forced me to accept plead bargain

Court: How do you plead, Her Excellency Lady Suzanne Hosni Mubarak?

Her Excellency Lady Suzanne Hosni Mubarak: (struggling in handcuffs) I plead ... (crying) ... bargain.

Court: Okay then. How much for this Magic Bullet? (bailiff brings out Magic Bullet)

Her Excellency Lady Suzanne Hosni Mubarak: You traitors! Fine ... $29.95! (breaks down)

Court: Wow. You weren't kidding. Take her away!

and Took away all my trust fund charity foundations.

I hate when that happens.

Now, They Placed me on 24 hrs surveilance monitoring, I have to use a brand new laptop to email this post secured with IP protection.

Militant 1: And what of Her Excellency Lady Suzanne Hosni Mubarak?

Militant 2: I threw her in jail, under 24 hours surveillance monitoring!

Militant 1: "Surveillance monitoring" is redundant. Did I teach you nothing in Egyptian Military School?

Militant 2: Also, I gave her a brand new laptop.

Militant 1: What? Why?

Militant 2: I mean, she has to check her email. I'm not a monster, you know.

Militant 1: If the laptop is secured with IP protection, she may be able to contact the Americans and make arrangements for the trust fund charity foundations we took from her!

Militant 2: Pfffftt. Please. I had to show her how to log in to Yahoo. She still has a Yahoo account! She promised she's only going to use it to check email and watch cat videos. We're good.

I hope You Will not leak out to me the government that are already against us?

This is a first ballot spam email Hall of Fame sentence. And I promise, I will not leak you out. Except for this blog post.

My reason for Contacting a stranger like you is to erase every evidence of insecurity on the funds which I want to entrust to your care on private or corporate capacity. The fund is $ 30million contained in two boxes and securely conveyed to Europe by a trusted official Diplomatic Personnel That I will link up to you, when you've indicated interest to assist me and my family by responding to this urgent call quickly.

This all sounds totes legit and not at all like a terrible movie starring Nicolas Cage and the girl from "Scrubs."

If you are honest and trust-able

Oh I am trust-able. Please accept this profession of my trust-ability as concrete evidence of my trust-ability.

I will hand over the control of the fund's packages collection to you and 30% is yours, Then Remaining 70% You Shall invest in Any profitable business for 2 years on my family Behalf

Me: I would like to invest $21 million in FlippyBaby.com.

Financial Advisor: I just ... what? Where did you get $21 million?

Me: Uh, nowhere. I mean, I cannot leak me out on that. Also, this will be on behalf of the Mubarak family. From Egypt. Can you write that down somewhere?

and we can negotiate further on sharing profit on investment terms later on.

HERE IS $21 MILLION TO INVEST WE'LL WORRY ABOUT THE DETAILS LATER

1) Your Full Name: Hank Farthead

2) Your Address: 123 Fart Street, Fart City, USA

3) Your Telephone Number: 1-800-my30mil

4) Your Fax Number: LOL

5) Your Mobile Number: in between phones, pm me on facebook

6) The Name of the Closest Airport to your City of Residence: Papa John's Airport Station

Please I need all Requested information to forward to the Diplomat and Authorize him to begin communication with you for the collection.

Please tell the diplomat some of that info is to keep the government off our scent LOL (with the farts).

My position is tensed and I expect you to keep this message and all our communications about the fund at your topmost secret / privacy.

(prints out email correspondence)

(places it in box inscripted "topmost secret / privacy box")

(locks box, swallows key)

(places box in basement of abandoned warehouse)

(burns down warehouse)

(walks away whistling)

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Great moments in rap history - the worst verses

Group Home was a two-man rap group backed by Gang Starr that consisted of 'Lil Dap, who was OK, and The Nutcracker, who was not a great rapper. Thankfully, their debut album was produced entirely by DJ Premier, so it was pretty dang good. It also includes the worst two rap verses I have heard in my life, courtesy of Nutcracker. Think Nas' verse in "Verbal Intercourse," and then think the opposite, and you have Nutcracker's verses in "Up Against the Wall."

(By the way, this song came out in 1995, so the lack of timeliness here on my part is not lost on me. I have no explanation of from where this came.)

VERSE 1

Yo the world is falling
Death is calling
I don't know


We are literally two lines into his first verse on the song and Nutcracker has already dropped an "I don't know" to keep the flow moving. (The flow is NOT moving, btw. It never moves. Seriously, give it a listen - it is so choppy and awkward, it sounds like a 10-year-old trying to freestyle.)

MCs be brawling

The world will be falling. Death will be calling. I don't know ... uh ... MCs will be brawling or something. - Book of Revelations?

On the mic, when I get hyped
Whenever you want yo whatever you like


(raises hand) I would like you to stop, please. Immediately.

I can't emphasize this enough - these verses are just words that rhyme, and some of them don't rhyme. We're barely into this verse and we've abandon the apocalyptic intro to talk about nonsense. What is this song about? It is about nonsense.

Bite on my style, I like that
Yo here is your feedback, with one smack


So you DON'T like that?

Also, trust me, Nutcracker - nobody is biting your style*, unless you find yourself in a second grade Phonics class, in which case, smack away.


*there is no greater enemy to rap than when a bad rapper makes haphazard claims of other rappers biting his/her style. As if.

Yeah, you know what I'm saying?

No. That is why I am writing this.

No time to be playing cause these n***** be delaying

Then there WOULD be time for playing, no? (h/t math)

Word yo when I get busy
Here and over there to New York City


If I had the time, I would make a world map of Nutcracker getting busy (sex?) here, there, and in New York City. On the map, Nutcracker will be wearing a red and white-striped sweater and knit cap.

Nevertheless, I'll indulge you - what, Nutcracker, happens when you get busy here and over there to New York City?

One for one, one for all

Oh OK nothing happens. You're just going to misquote "The Three Muskateers." Got it.

I'm on the wall, my back is on the wall

You're on the wall AND your back is on the wall? That is cray. Here is a new rap song I just made up:

Yo, I'm the wall
Also I'm on the wall
I don't know
Wall


VERSE 2

Yo it's a wonderful world, a world of wonder

Redundant







And I guess the world isn't falling anymore? Whew!

I thunder and thunder

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????

I won't go under

NUTCRACKER'S LIST OF WORDS THAT RHYME WITH WONDER; PLEASE CHECK OFF AFTER USE:

wonder
thunder
thunder
under


END OF LIST

Won't get in the trap, I'm passed all that

Nutcracker, 3 years old: (trapped)

Nutcracker, 12: (still trapped)

Nutcracker, 20: (out of trap, leaves area where trap is indefinitely)

You stupid mother*****

Whoa, Nutcracker, slow your roll, son, dang.

my rhyme is phat

It is not.

Phat as can be on the M-I-C
In the place to be, if you can see


Here Nutcracker tries to take the verse into Sugarhill Gang territory, a nice break from his usual complex, vocabulary-filled flow. If you can see?

You don't know then go ask your momma

Me: Mom, I don't know. Can you tell me?

Mom: About what?

Me: (shrugs shoulders) Nutcracker?

Mom: The ballet?

Me: No, the rapper.

Mom: Oh, honey - he is not a good lyricist.

Eatin' MCs live like Jeffery Dahmer

What you've really murdered here is a simile because "eatin'" is NOT SLANG for defeating an MC in battle. Therefore, I must take you literally, and you should be arrested on felony charges of eating other MCs. You are gross.

One for one, one for all

Let's follow up this claim of cannibalism with a psuedo motivational quote, shall we?

I'm on the wall, I'm on the wall

Only now, as I've reached the conclusion of this verse, do I realize that Nutcracker has been trolling me for the past 19 years. Touché, Nutcracker. Touché
.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

‘What about Bob?’ – the story of my life

I received your typical dad-like gifts for Father’s Day—a few shirts, some sentimental stuff the girls made at school, and a bottle of Jay-Z’s “Gold” cologne, obviously. I also, however, received a paper titled “All About Dad” that was signed by our oldest but was, as I understand, a collaborative effort between both girls during their joint occupational therapy session. Please indulge me while I break it down because it was … interesting.

My Dad’s name is: Mike.

So far, so good.

My Dad is 6 years old.

It’s all downhill from here. I should probably be more concerned about their utter inability to comprehend ages. I mean, they know how old they are, so the fact that they think I am one grade up is disconcerting. Plus, we’ve been over this. Mom is 20 and I am 25. They don’t listen.

My dad weighs: 118 pounds.

This is the most fascinating response. I have no idea where they came up with that number. Although, considering they believe 100 is the world’s highest number—“I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU FOR 100 YEARS!”—I believe this was intended to be an insult.

Dad likes to eat: veggies.

According to my daughters, I am an emaciated vegetable lover. They obviously think I am manly and look to me for protection. Happy Father’s Day?

Dad likes to wear: pants and shirts.

Also I am a yuppie. I would say they nailed this one except they answered what I am forced by society to wear as opposed to what I would truly like to wear. What I would truly like to wear everyday is two fig leafs over my nipples and a pair of Oakland Raiders Zubaz, for what it’s worth.

Dad’s best friend is: ?

This one hurt. This one hurt real bad. My wife was present during this collaborative session, but tried to remain uninvolved. Until this point, that is, not wanting me to feel ashamed and alone on a day intended to celebrate my efforts. Still, her intervening proved fruitless, and the girls couldn’t name one fellow man I hang out with, despite the fact I have at least one or two friends. According to my wife, our oldest daughter, under pressure to name someone, anyone, responded, “Bobby-Bob? … Bob?” My wife sighed and nodded her head dejectedly to the occupational therapist, that familiar body language that translates to “He doesn’t know a Bob.” Hence, the big ol’ question mark. I am sad all over again just writing about this.

Dad is really good at: paperwork.

I am the most boring, albeit practical dad ever, I guess. Maybe I’m not even practical, considering paperwork is so 1993, and everything is online now. And I suppose this answer is better than "writing about spam email on his free blog." The point is, I need to make some changes in my life.

My Dad really loves: his kids.

Despite all of the above answers, this somehow remains true.

Dad always tells me: stories.

Stories about how I grabbed a handful of veggies, threw on some pants and a shirt and a spritz of Jay-Z’s “Gold,” and headed to the office to file some TPS reports. That may not sound like a big deal, but remember—I am only 6.




Note: This column appears in the 6/26 issue of The Glendale Star and the 6/27 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: B2B Decision makers/Influencers Database 2014

Do people have actual jobs doing things like business-to-business marketing and data compiling and optimal targeting? It seems like this is not real, and only exists in some alternate universe that somehow has means to online communication. I have never met an actual person who boasts such a vague mode of employment, nor do I know anyone who has every utilized such services. Then again, I am not in the business world, and I make like $8,000 a year. Actually, let me hear them out …

Hi,
Would you be interested to reach Decision makers and Influencers from Healthcare, K-12, Information Technology, Food and Beverage, Pharmaceutical, Insurance, Finance/Banking, Telecom, Retail, Construction, Computer Software/Hardware, Hospitality, HR, Energy and Utilities, Manufacturing, Automotive, Marketing/Advertising, Publishing, Event, meeting or trade show planners and many more?


Hi,
Would you like to reach people in the following fields: every field?

Yes, is my answer. Healthcare companies totes need to buy this book. Also: telecom. What do I do now?

We can customize the list for you,

What list? Am I supposed to have a list? Who makes th-

based on your target audience from BtoB Industry.


Am I ... what? Are these words?

Do let me know who you target, so that I can send you counts and pricing for your review.

You are being very aggressive and I do not know what is happening.

Please let me know your target criteria (Business Vertical / Job Titles)

#BusinessVertical

so that we can send you counts

"I need the counts on this business vertical, stat!" - from the business drama, BtoB: The Decision-Makers, starring Russell Crowe as Business Bob and Mark Wahlberg as Johnny Industry

and cost along with the document.

Tell the world my story - I was trying to compile data ... (takes shot from glass marked with skull and crossbones, passes out)

Regards,

Sarah Adams sarah.adams@data-compilers.com


Everyone, please email Sarah for all of your data processing needs. She is a sweetheart!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

I wear your sunglasses at daytime

I was at a pool party recently because I am a hip dude who does neato things like that. It was the type of pool party you see in commercials—everybody was laughing continuously for no particular reason and my wife was on my shoulders in the pool playfully trying to knock over my friend’s wife, who was on his shoulders. The party was DJ’d by Ryan Gosling, who I didn’t even know was a DJ. The Coors Light beer train showed up at one point when it got too hot. All ethnicities were represented.

Also, none of that is true. Most of the afternoon was spent frantically taking care of kids in the pool while being sprayed with water guns from unknown locations and trying in vain to have adult conversations while being interrupted with information like, “The pizza fell on the ground but I ate it” and “That girl (points to boy) said I can’t swing as high as her did. I have to pee.”


That said, I did manage to get in some adult time. Some GUY TIME no less. At one point, a group of us fellas stood around a table discussing things like how we are no longer men and pretending to care about what school each other’s kids are going to next year. “Oh, your kid is going there? Cool. I hear they have good teachers. (never heard that) My oldest is going to … BABE? Where is she going next year? Whatever, she can’t hear me. You need a beer?”


I was summoned from my GUY TIME to go indoors and, before I did, grabbed my sunglasses off the table. This amused me because there were several pairs of sunglasses to choose from that each looked exactly the same. Apparently I wasn’t the only white man at the party who wears the style of sunglasses that make him feel like Ryan Gosling emerging from an L.A. coffee shop.


Sure enough, when I put on my sunglasses the following day, I wasn’t exactly sure they were mine. Unsure what to do, I just kept wearing them.


The next day, after looking at myself in the rearview mirror at red lights several times, I was more certain they were not mine. I finally decided to take a closer look and, lo and behold, they were name-brand sunglasses. Definitely not mine.


I texted my friend. Yes, they were his. He asked what brand mine were. I told him whatever brand Marshalls carries because mine are from Marshalls. (For what it’s worth, I buy cheap sunglasses exactly because of these situations, and because I break them a lot.)


Turned out a third dude from our GUY TIME session had straight left his sunglasses at the party. Ha, ha … classic Joe. And now the wives were involved.


I came home from work and right away my wife was like, “Did you take Nolan’s sunglasses? Because Kelly can’t find them and Donna messaged me on Facebook that Tonya messaged her and Joe is missing his! SEE WHAT YOU DID! Who just picks up sunglasses he doesn’t even know are his? Ugh, this is so embarrassing! Donna is coming over to drop off Joe’s before she goes to the gym, and she might see Kelly there so … are you even listening?”


The truth is that the three of us men were well on our way to casually resolving this situation before the wives became involved. Suddenly I was holding a small yellow gift bag with sunglasses and I didn’t know what was happening. Whose are these? Back at square one.


Anyway, my point is … (puts on name-brand sunglasses) … I have no point.



Nolan, is that you?


Note: This column appears in the 6/19 issue of The Glendale Star and the 6/20 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Find girls today

I think I am good. But okay.

Greetings, mighty mister! Whats up?

Not much. Just hanging out, trying to process being called mighty mister for the first time ever. You?

It feels like I need a company of a real man!

Oh, okay. You've ... come to the right place? I am currently listening to Sharon Van Etten and eating organic blue corn chips at my desk.

I am sure you are as hot as you page!

I believe you might be browsing the page of British paralympian Mike Kenny, but I'll take it.

Online dating sounds thrilling!

I guess.

Lets try it!

Okay. But promise me we can take it slow. I've never done this bef-

I have just uploaded two dozens of nude photos to my page .


Alright, well, I was going to say that I grew up in a small town and love reading mystery novels. But I suppose staring at your boobs for a while online could help get this relationship off the ground.

Please, search for me at the dating resource.

Not to be rude, but this subject header promised girls plural.

Join me in a private chat , baby !

No doubt ... babycakes sweet ... butt. Yikes. I am new at this. Anyway, my username is (edits username from "birdloverforworldpeace" to "mightymisterbigschlonger") mightymisterbigschlonger. I will find you.

With kisses,
Zoe


I am blushing. And it takes a lot to make mightymisterbigschlonger blush. (eats handful of blue corn chips) (crumbs fall on pants)

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Facebook meme of the day






YOU TELL 'EM PLUTO

DON'T YOU GO CHANGIN' ON ME

Mickey Mouse: You know, Pluto, while I appreciate your independence and stubborn refusal to change and progress as a canine, I just want to gently point out that "your" is possessive and-

Pluto: STOP TRYIN' TO BEND ME TO YOUR WILL YOU DANG RAT

FEEL LIKE MAYBE YA'LL AIN'T FOLLOWING WHAT PLUTO IS TRYING TO SAY HERE

TOO MANY WORDS FOR YA'LL HATERS

LEMME BREAK IT DOWN, PLUTO STYLE





*FIXED*

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Crossing over into true maturity

I can cross my legs. I’m not bragging; I’m just saying.

Of course, being an extremely manly man, by “cross my legs” I mean rest my right ankle/calf/shin on my left knee. This is a typical masculine pose for a man who is holding court in his corner office—hands behind head—regaling hilarious stories of debauchery and excess or, in my case, waiting at Great Clips for a $6.99 haircut because I have a coupon my wife clipped out of a mailer.

So yeah, I can cross my legs … for like three or four minutes, until my leg starts to get numb. I have long legs. This is how I have lived my life—crossing my legs like a man during moments of idleness until my leg goes numb.

Well, not anymore.

All of a sudden—seriously, this happened overnight—I am crossing my legs the real way. Like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, before that thing happened that put me through puberty. Like, you know, a woman, OR, in my case, a mature man oozing comfort in his own skin.

Like most men (?), I occasionally experimented with true leg crossing in my youth. It just never felt right, and even if it had I would never risk such an act in public. Yet, there I was a couple weeks ago at work, having just finished penning a wonderful email and, basking in the satisfaction, sitting in my chair with a genuine leg cross.

It struck me just how right it felt. Physically, certainly, with no leg numbness or scrunching in the, uh, man area. But also emotionally. I felt like a seasoned college professor, or a psychologist listening intently to some wacko, or just a wise council people go to for advice like, “Mike, there’s a 98-year-old man up front who wants to place a classified ad for a boat,” which is exactly what a coworker did say to me that snapped me out of my indulgent fantasy.

I’ve been crossing my legs ever since. During meetings. At church. During elaborate pre-school graduation ceremonies, which are a thing now. And you know what? Nobody makes a comment. Not even my wife, who always notices when I venture out of my comfort zone by saying things like, “No. Nope. You can’t pull that off. Put that back on the rack. No. Uh uh. Who do you think you are, Zac Effron?”

It’s like there was an unspoken agreement between me and society that it is now OK for me to cross my legs like a mature, manly adult. I’ve earned it. When this was all revealed to me, I had just turned 36, so I’ve pinpointed that as the exact age when it’s acceptable for a man to cross his legs the right way. Not that you, fellow man, will require a definitive age. Trust me, you’ll know. In your heart. (And your pants.)

So if you see me out there, at a coffee shop or a bus stop or something, legs crossed like a woman but straight pulling it off like a man, don’t be surprised. Actually, if it’s a bus stop, please be surprised and please help me. Something must have went wrong.


He may dress hipper than me, but he's not ready to cross his legs.


Note: This column appears in the 6/12 issue of The Glendale Star and the 6/13 issue of the Peoria Times.

Thursday, June 05, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: FOR.  Mrs. Jane Donald.

Despite your ALL CAPS emphasis, I believe you mean "from." Also, seriously with the periods. Also, stating who the email is from as a subject header is weird and a dead giveway that this is a load of crap. Also, please, go on.

Beloved Friend,

I don't know you.

Greetings,I am Mrs.Jane Donald.

OK now we are friends. As a beloved friend, I can say with sincerity that I hope your husband is not dead and also that you are young and healthy.

an aging widow suffering from long time illness.

Oh snap.

i am currently admitted in a private hospital here in Abidjan cote d' Ivory,

Say word. That is dope (?) and very relevant to my everyday life. Tell me, Mrs. Jane Donald, about your funds.

I have some funds I inherited from my late loving husband Mr.Frank Donald.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bring together in love Mr. Frank Donald and Mrs. Jane Donald, with me, Father Donald Donald - no relation - as supreme witness to their love and also to their funds. If any fake person should object to this union, please reply via email with the note, "FOR. Father Donald Donald." Now, let us read the famous words of Paul Donald: "Love is patient. Love is kind. Love will find you in a private hospital in Abidjan cote d' Ivory, sending emails to random people about funds."

The amount of US$6.800.000 which he deposited in one of the Bank Here

Do you have six dollars and eighty cents burning a hole in your pocket? Well, come on by to Bank Here. With a simple proof of residence, we can get you set up with a new account in no time. And yes - that would be a free checking account. No fees, just funds. Swing by today! After all, why bank somewhere else when you can Bank Here? Bank Here is a non-member FDIC; free checking includes $25 monthly fee.

and I need a honest and God fearing person who have the feelings of human

I Tarzan Mike, you Jane. Me have human feelings. Me sometime feel sad. Me sometime feel glad. Me get butterflies in tummy when handsome human approaches. Me no have emotions of rabbit. Me no do everything for carrots, but for human fulfillment.

that can use this funds for God's work and 30% out of the total funds will be for your compasation for doing this work of God.

"When you give alms using the money of dead or dying people, keep like 30 percent or whatever for yourself. For the effort. Treat yo self." - Not Jesus

Please if you would be able to use these funds for the Lord's work kindly reply to me at (janedonald2014@hotmail.com)

Please reply to that address and not the address I sent this email from: janedonald@talktalk.net. That is my talktalk.net account, which I only use to send emails, not receive emails, so really it should be called talk.net LOL. But seriously, please use my janedonald2014@hotmail.com email address. I set up a hotmail account in 2014, which is normal, and my name is Jane Donald. It's all there in the email address. If you have any questions though, please reply to Jane.Donald@q.blerg. This is all legit.

Oh, Jane Donald was kind enough to send a picture with this email. The picture is titled "I with my late love husband..JPG" and it is attached twice because: of course it is.


I have a few things to mention:

  • If anybody knows who these people really are, please tell them that Mrs. Jane Donald is using their likeness for spam purposes.
  • Guy in the orange shirt on the left is Father Donald Donald, probs.
  • RIP Mr. Frank Donald. He loved his couch and his picture of an industrial complex. When he wasn't killing deer for sport, he was a great love husband. Please leave all condolence bouquets on the coffee table. Thank you.

Wednesday, June 04, 2014

Spam email of the week

Subject: Brazilian Singer Priscilla Brings WorldCup2014 to Hollywood!!!

FINALLY, HOLLYWOOD IS INVOLVED

Brazilian singer Priscilla released today on Vevo Her Exclusive Music Video
for The WorldCup2014 Brazil


EXCLUSIVE TO WHO EXACTLY IF I - MIKE - AM RECEIVING THIS INFO?

and Has Already listeners saying Her Music is Way better than Pitbull and Shakira.

WHY YOU GOTTA BRING PITBULL INTO THIS

ALSO: THAT'S NOT SAYING MUCH LOL

SORRY, PITBULL J/K YOU ARE GOOD AT MUSIC

/NOT SORRY/

The Music Video was Directed by Britney Spears Circus Tour Choreographer ( Andre Fuentes)

AIR OF LEGITIMACY: NAILED

and The Song VAI (Go!) been produced in Hollywood.

WELL I'M CONVINCED, PLEASE WAIT HERE WHILE I VAI NOT LISTEN TO IT

Priscilla wrote the new Song VAI (Go) in tribute to the World CupBrazil2014.

HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS THAT INSPIRE THE BEST SINGER-SONGWRITERS

LOVE

INJUSTICE

HEARTBREAK

HUMONGOUS SOCCER TOURNAMENTS THAT REQUIRE TRIBUTE VIDEOS DIRECTED BY PEOPLE WHO DID THINGS CALLED A BRITNEY SPEARS CIRCUS

PRISCILLA > DYLAN

Vai is a very energetic, unique and never heard before Sound created
to inspire people from everywhere around the World.


WHAT IS THIS SOUND I HAVE NEVER HEARD BEFORE? HAVE I DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN AND THIS IS THE ANGELIC HUM OF ECSTASY I HAVE ONLY READ ABOUT? OR MAYBE IT IS PITBULL?

No, it's "Vai," by Priscilla.

OH. I AM SO INSPIRED.

To what?

PLAY SOCCER? LET'S VAI DO THAT. DO YOU HAVE A SOCCER BALL?

No. But I know someone who does.




Tuesday, June 03, 2014

Parents’, in-laws’ eating habits drive us bananas

As you may have been able to discern from recent columns, my parents and in-laws were visiting from back east. They left a couple weeks ago. We are still recovering.

Namely, as it pertains to the refrigerator.

To open our refrigerator of late is to be immediately greeted with the reminder that, on one hand, we are loved, and on the other, what the heck?

I’ll start with my own parents who, when they were here, went out to lunch every day and who, because my mom has literally never finished a food item or drink to completion in 60-plus years, brought us home the leftovers:

“I couldn’t finish my chicken wrap, so I brought you guys home the rest. Mike, maybe you can take it to work for lunch? I know you don’t eat meat, but you can pick out the chicken. Just be careful, because it gave me a little diarrhea, but I’m not sure if it was that or the breakfast burrito.* Anyway, it was really good!”

*also in the fridge

THANKS MOM.

It should be mentioned that my parents refuse to condense their leftover food gifts in a container that would utilize space, but instead squeeze it into the fridge in its squeaky, Styrofoam container that in itself is in a big plastic bag, pushing back further into the dark fridge abyss the Styrofoam contained leftovers they brought back the previous day.

This is in addition to the day-to-day items they purchased just to get by, physically. For example, the chocolate milk my mom needs to recover from her intense running workouts, and yogurt-based digestive aids to help both of their stomachs recover from the after-effects of supposedly delicious chicken wraps. To be more specific, they need their Danimals, which are yogurt drinks that are intended for small children. My dad will say, shaking his head condescendingly, “You know Mom, with her chocolate milk,” as he takes a shot from his Danimals container that features a cartoon bear riding a skateboard over a yogurt waterfall.

My in-laws are no better. Now believe me, I am not complaining, since I do not have to go grocery shopping, make my lunch, or perform any food-related task sans eating while they are visiting. Still, I cannot keep up:

“Did you take the fish for lunch?”

“No—I brought the pasta from the other day.”

“OK, OK, the fish should still be good for tomorrah. Here, take these zucchini patties for lunch. We’re making fish tonight.”

I’m pretty sure my mother-in-law believes she is absolved from the sin of wasting food if the responsibility to finish it is bestowed on me, but it would be helpful if my father-in-law were not so averse to heating up leftovers as a means of preparing dinner. It is not an option. You have never seen someone so disgusted by the thought of heating up something he himself had made less than 24 hours prior which he, when he was consuming it, claimed was the most delicious thing he had ever created.

My wife and I spent the better part of last weekend throwing out weeks-old fish and humongous Styrofoam containers with indistinguishable contents. And Danimals, which we refuse to give our children because of the artificial ingredients. Oh, and the half a banana my father-in-law left in our fruit basket that was now covered in fruit flies. Apparently, an entire banana is just too much to consume in one sitting, and surely someone else will find the remainder of this rapidly browning banana appetizing enough to eat, especially when placed on top of its ripe, yellow, inviting brethren. Sheesh.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, we miss them.


Note: This column appears in the 6/5 issue of The Glendale Star and the 6/6 issue of the Peoria Times.