Shoemaker writes:
What time is love?
Sincerely,
Jeff
Dear Jeff,
Mel not exactly certain of concept of space or time. Mel confused by coming and going of people, but Mel use this to determine when things happen. For example. When radio come on all of a sudden when house is dark, is time for chubby man to let Mel go out to pee-pee. Then chubby man put on pants and go away. Lady come home at night and then she love me. Then man come home and play with Mel and toy.
What time is love?
Mel say you must leave that to Ancients of Mu Mu, but he suspect it around 3:00am.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Buffy writes:
Dear Melbotis,
i am writing to you as a last resort. i just don't know what to do anymore. everyday, i tell myself things are going to be different. i tell myself i can be good. but then i innocently wander into the laundry room and catch a glimps of black, white, or, especially, red satin. i turn my head away. i try desperately to pull myself out but then i figure one little sniff won't hurt. will it? just one little sniff of that precious piece just spilling over the top of the hamper. next thing i know i wake up four hours later, passed out, with my nose through the crotch of my mommy's underwear. when i realize what i've done, i panic. i hide it. underneath my bed, underneath her bed, underneath the couch. anywhere. and i tell myself it was only a momentary lapse. tomorrow i'll be good. oh! melbotis, what should i do? I can't take it anymore! i want to be a good girl, i really do. I just can't stop myself that from eating underwear crotches.
desperate to change,
buffy
Dear buffy,
Mel think Mel should preface response with assumption that buffy is a dog. If buffy is, say... a person... buffy beyond Mel's realm of experience. Mel has come to understand many publication can cater to your particular issue, but Mel probably not much help. Look for red, glowing sign reading "XXX". Mel thinks you stand to make good deal of money publishing in these magazines.
If buffy is dog, mel at least can try to help.
buffy, mel not particularly interested in much outside of ball, toy, towel, stupid dog next door, treat and two silly people with whom mel cohabitates. mel not have clothes aside from collar, but often see how people take them off and then go in shower place. In shower place, the people often begin to howl and yowl. When chubby man go in shower, often I hear him saying:
I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have
Been any clearer
If you wanna make the world
A better place
(if you wanna make the
World a better place)
Take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change
(take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change)
(na na na, na na na, na na, na nah)
Then man dry off with towel (but not fun chew towel), and rub his teeth with stick. He put on pants and say "goodbye, Mel. Be a good boy, today!" and Mel say "Okay" and then chubby man go away. Then white lady scream "Holy Christ! I'm late!" and run out door. And clothes smell like people, but so do everything else in smelly house, so mel don't much care. But he notice cat often sit in pants or hat. Es muy mysterioso.
So mel decide cat is formost expert on pants and chewing and ask cat "why for do you sit in the chubby man blue pant?" and cat say "Heeba weeba blah blah blue." So I try again. "Hey stupid cat-" but cat is rude and say "Wubba wubba woop woop wooooooo". Then cat try to bit me.
So mystery of panty must remain a mystery to Mel. how sad. but maybe your owner lady buy hamper and put clothes in drawer instead of leaving underwear out all over place. That mel suggestion.
Dear Melbotis,
i am writing to you as a last resort. i just don't know what to do anymore. everyday, i tell myself things are going to be different. i tell myself i can be good. but then i innocently wander into the laundry room and catch a glimps of black, white, or, especially, red satin. i turn my head away. i try desperately to pull myself out but then i figure one little sniff won't hurt. will it? just one little sniff of that precious piece just spilling over the top of the hamper. next thing i know i wake up four hours later, passed out, with my nose through the crotch of my mommy's underwear. when i realize what i've done, i panic. i hide it. underneath my bed, underneath her bed, underneath the couch. anywhere. and i tell myself it was only a momentary lapse. tomorrow i'll be good. oh! melbotis, what should i do? I can't take it anymore! i want to be a good girl, i really do. I just can't stop myself that from eating underwear crotches.
desperate to change,
buffy
Dear buffy,
Mel think Mel should preface response with assumption that buffy is a dog. If buffy is, say... a person... buffy beyond Mel's realm of experience. Mel has come to understand many publication can cater to your particular issue, but Mel probably not much help. Look for red, glowing sign reading "XXX". Mel thinks you stand to make good deal of money publishing in these magazines.
If buffy is dog, mel at least can try to help.
buffy, mel not particularly interested in much outside of ball, toy, towel, stupid dog next door, treat and two silly people with whom mel cohabitates. mel not have clothes aside from collar, but often see how people take them off and then go in shower place. In shower place, the people often begin to howl and yowl. When chubby man go in shower, often I hear him saying:
I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have
Been any clearer
If you wanna make the world
A better place
(if you wanna make the
World a better place)
Take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change
(take a look at yourself, and
Then make a change)
(na na na, na na na, na na, na nah)
Then man dry off with towel (but not fun chew towel), and rub his teeth with stick. He put on pants and say "goodbye, Mel. Be a good boy, today!" and Mel say "Okay" and then chubby man go away. Then white lady scream "Holy Christ! I'm late!" and run out door. And clothes smell like people, but so do everything else in smelly house, so mel don't much care. But he notice cat often sit in pants or hat. Es muy mysterioso.
So mel decide cat is formost expert on pants and chewing and ask cat "why for do you sit in the chubby man blue pant?" and cat say "Heeba weeba blah blah blue." So I try again. "Hey stupid cat-" but cat is rude and say "Wubba wubba woop woop wooooooo". Then cat try to bit me.
So mystery of panty must remain a mystery to Mel. how sad. but maybe your owner lady buy hamper and put clothes in drawer instead of leaving underwear out all over place. That mel suggestion.
Jamie woke up like a shot this morning and immediately declared "they're announcing the Oscar nominees!"
So we turned on the TV and dutifully watched Sigourney Weaver announce a few categories (they curiously didn't go into anything like "Best footwear in a Brazilan Industrial Video" or anything good).
Man, all I know is that on the eve of February 29th, I will be watching anything BUT the Oscars. I haven't seen, nor do I plan to see, any but three of the movies even mentioned.
I realize, I just don't care anymore. Let these maroons go pat themselves on the back and take up 8 hours of network time. I simply, absolutely, do not care who wins, or how pretty somebody's dress is. Thank god they aren't dragging it out for two months this year. Ugh.
Ask people "who won the Nobel Prize in Literature this year? Who won it for physics?" and they mock you. Ask them what dress Nicole Kidman had and they can tell you the color and designer.
I weep for the human species.
So we turned on the TV and dutifully watched Sigourney Weaver announce a few categories (they curiously didn't go into anything like "Best footwear in a Brazilan Industrial Video" or anything good).
Man, all I know is that on the eve of February 29th, I will be watching anything BUT the Oscars. I haven't seen, nor do I plan to see, any but three of the movies even mentioned.
I realize, I just don't care anymore. Let these maroons go pat themselves on the back and take up 8 hours of network time. I simply, absolutely, do not care who wins, or how pretty somebody's dress is. Thank god they aren't dragging it out for two months this year. Ugh.
Ask people "who won the Nobel Prize in Literature this year? Who won it for physics?" and they mock you. Ask them what dress Nicole Kidman had and they can tell you the color and designer.
I weep for the human species.
Monday, January 26, 2004
The Old Man kicks ass...
He's waiting for my mom to come out of the recovery room, and he's ansty but bored so he starts telling me about this book he's reading. The Old Man is reading Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon.
He's waiting for my mom to come out of the recovery room, and he's ansty but bored so he starts telling me about this book he's reading. The Old Man is reading Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon.
My Mom (The Kare Bear) is having back surgery this morning. I'm feeling a little stressed. She has really bad scoliosis, and they need to straighten her out so that when she's a little old lady, she's not shaped like a "v".
Anyhoo, they say she will take like a month to recover enough to even be mobile. Given the Kare Bear's usually hyper kinetic demeanor, this should be fun for The Old Man. The Old Man is taking time off from work to tend to the Kare bear, which should be interesting, because The Old Man finally merged with his job and became the Voltron of Finances for an oil company a few years ago. He may be a bit defenseless without his laptop and stat sheets.
I hope to get to Houston soon. In fact, I should probably buy tickets today. I need to be there, but my folks basically told me to not come, but it took me a long time to realize it was not a passive-aggressive attempt to get me to be there.
Brother Jason will go, then Cousin Sue. Then last but not least, shall be me. So hopefully I will be able to entertain The Old Man and put a smile on Recoverin' Kare Bear's face.
Anyone willing to wish my mum a "get well soon" may send her a message via Mel, and Mel will compile them for her.
Anyhoo, they say she will take like a month to recover enough to even be mobile. Given the Kare Bear's usually hyper kinetic demeanor, this should be fun for The Old Man. The Old Man is taking time off from work to tend to the Kare bear, which should be interesting, because The Old Man finally merged with his job and became the Voltron of Finances for an oil company a few years ago. He may be a bit defenseless without his laptop and stat sheets.
I hope to get to Houston soon. In fact, I should probably buy tickets today. I need to be there, but my folks basically told me to not come, but it took me a long time to realize it was not a passive-aggressive attempt to get me to be there.
Brother Jason will go, then Cousin Sue. Then last but not least, shall be me. So hopefully I will be able to entertain The Old Man and put a smile on Recoverin' Kare Bear's face.
Anyone willing to wish my mum a "get well soon" may send her a message via Mel, and Mel will compile them for her.
It's reasons like this that I'm almost embarassed to live in a democracy...
You never saw Stalin feeling he had to claim the Joementum.
You never saw Stalin feeling he had to claim the Joementum.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Friday, January 23, 2004
Popeye turns 75.
Popeye cartoons don't run like they did years ago on TV. I used to watch a lot of Popeye, and several months ago I remember talking to Jamie about Popeye, and she was utterly baffled.
"The Jeep. You know, the Jeep?"
"The car?"
"No, the Jeep! I think they actually named the car AFTER the Jeep. I loved the Jeep when i was a kid."
"No idea."
"And the Sea Hag and that weird thing which ran around after Popeye..."
"Wasn't he just a sailor?"
"Popeye? Well, he was that and so much more..."
"I remember Bluto and Olive Oyl."
"Well, sure."
"I don't remember any Sea Witch."
"It was a weird show. i think that thing was called 'a Goon'."
So let's all wish Popeye a happy birthday, and thank him for letting us know that when we're down, all you need to do is look yourself in the eye and remember "I yam what I yam."
Now go eat some spinach for Popeye.
Popeye cartoons don't run like they did years ago on TV. I used to watch a lot of Popeye, and several months ago I remember talking to Jamie about Popeye, and she was utterly baffled.
"The Jeep. You know, the Jeep?"
"The car?"
"No, the Jeep! I think they actually named the car AFTER the Jeep. I loved the Jeep when i was a kid."
"No idea."
"And the Sea Hag and that weird thing which ran around after Popeye..."
"Wasn't he just a sailor?"
"Popeye? Well, he was that and so much more..."
"I remember Bluto and Olive Oyl."
"Well, sure."
"I don't remember any Sea Witch."
"It was a weird show. i think that thing was called 'a Goon'."
So let's all wish Popeye a happy birthday, and thank him for letting us know that when we're down, all you need to do is look yourself in the eye and remember "I yam what I yam."
Now go eat some spinach for Popeye.
CNN is running a banner ad telling people they can get 3D glasses and see 3D images of Mars (which looks suspiciously like Southern Arizona). But when you go to their site, it leads to a kiddy craft site which REALLY tells you the secret is to have blue and red cellophane.
Bullsh**t!
I don't have blue and red cellophane! Who the hell has blue and red cellophane? Aaron Brown can stick his blue and red cellophane up his blow-dried (censored due to the League's Mom Friendly content rule)!!!!!!
Bullsh**t!
I don't have blue and red cellophane! Who the hell has blue and red cellophane? Aaron Brown can stick his blue and red cellophane up his blow-dried (censored due to the League's Mom Friendly content rule)!!!!!!
Jim writes:
Dear Melbotis,
Are we just subject to the whims of the fates, or is there free will?
Dear Jim
Mel think about question and he puzzle over for many hour. But Mel think that Mel wake up when radio come on in bedroom, and Mel cannot go potty until alarm go off in bedroom. And Mel not able to open glass door to backyard. So mel must wait for chubby boy-man to open back door. Once in yard, Mel may go pee pee, or Mel may lay in grass and chew on foot. And sometime Mel allowed into house all day where mel sleep on couch, and other time, Mel not allowed on couch. And still other time, Mel stuck outside. But never Mel decision. mel suspects correlation between rain and sunshine, but not quite figure out yet.
Sometime chubby man say "get your fat ass outside!", but Mel just stand and stare at him until chubby man say "Oh, screw it. Now you're stuck inside."
But inside and outside, mel know he have rule to follow. But sometime Mel cannot help Melself, like when Mel inside too long and must pee. mel must pee on carpet. othertime, mel outside and stupid neighbor dog bark at fence, so Mel bark bark bark bark bark until neighbor dog go away. Then cubby man stick head out door and say "Mel! Knock it off, man!" But then stupid neighbor dog coem jump up fence and bark bark bark so Mel bark bark bark... stupid neighbor dog. THen chubby man stick head out door and say "All right, smart guy... get in here!" and Mel must go inside.
Stupid cat does whatever cat want and nobody seem to care.
Jim also writes:
Dear Melbotis,
Is this as good as it gets?
Dear Jim,
Sometime after Mel been dirty for long time, chubby man comes around and says "Get in the tub." And then he point at tub, so I get in tub, and then it kind of wet and cold and slippery, but when Mel come out, Mel is wet. So then white lady is screaming "get outside! get outside!" and chubby man laughs and laughs and laughs. And then Mel wet for a while. But then warmsunshine dry mel off, and man shows up with brushy thing, gives Mel treat and brush Mel, and that as good as it gets.
Dear Melbotis,
Are we just subject to the whims of the fates, or is there free will?
Dear Jim
Mel think about question and he puzzle over for many hour. But Mel think that Mel wake up when radio come on in bedroom, and Mel cannot go potty until alarm go off in bedroom. And Mel not able to open glass door to backyard. So mel must wait for chubby boy-man to open back door. Once in yard, Mel may go pee pee, or Mel may lay in grass and chew on foot. And sometime Mel allowed into house all day where mel sleep on couch, and other time, Mel not allowed on couch. And still other time, Mel stuck outside. But never Mel decision. mel suspects correlation between rain and sunshine, but not quite figure out yet.
Sometime chubby man say "get your fat ass outside!", but Mel just stand and stare at him until chubby man say "Oh, screw it. Now you're stuck inside."
But inside and outside, mel know he have rule to follow. But sometime Mel cannot help Melself, like when Mel inside too long and must pee. mel must pee on carpet. othertime, mel outside and stupid neighbor dog bark at fence, so Mel bark bark bark bark bark until neighbor dog go away. Then cubby man stick head out door and say "Mel! Knock it off, man!" But then stupid neighbor dog coem jump up fence and bark bark bark so Mel bark bark bark... stupid neighbor dog. THen chubby man stick head out door and say "All right, smart guy... get in here!" and Mel must go inside.
Stupid cat does whatever cat want and nobody seem to care.
Jim also writes:
Dear Melbotis,
Is this as good as it gets?
Dear Jim,
Sometime after Mel been dirty for long time, chubby man comes around and says "Get in the tub." And then he point at tub, so I get in tub, and then it kind of wet and cold and slippery, but when Mel come out, Mel is wet. So then white lady is screaming "get outside! get outside!" and chubby man laughs and laughs and laughs. And then Mel wet for a while. But then warmsunshine dry mel off, and man shows up with brushy thing, gives Mel treat and brush Mel, and that as good as it gets.
Okay, confession time, Leaguers. I collect action figures. I know. It's totally nerdy, but it's my obsession and it falls in with me being an even bigger nerd than just a comic collector.
Sigh. Okay. Everyone cool? No.? Shut up.
because I need your help.
I can't find frikkin' Killer Croc anywhere. He's a Batman villain, and Mattel recently released a toy of Killer Croc, but due to the way the toy industry works, Croc has been "short packed". This means that if a store gets a crate of Batman toys, it will have, like, 5 "Fightin' Ninja" Batmans, 5 "Neon Pantsuit" Batmans, 4 "Undersea Clambake" Batmans, and then one "Killer Croc". Apparently only collectors buy the villains, so toy companies short change the stores in every box. This sounds like hogwash to me. I had every Imperial Trooper I could get my hands on when i was a kid. I think they're mistaking dumb, lame villains not selling for villains not selling. Anyhow, end rant...
Here's what Killer Croc looks like. If you see him, let me know. Finding Mr. Freeze was next to impossible, but I did it. I know if we work together, Killer Croc is mine!!!!!
Sigh. Okay. Everyone cool? No.? Shut up.
because I need your help.
I can't find frikkin' Killer Croc anywhere. He's a Batman villain, and Mattel recently released a toy of Killer Croc, but due to the way the toy industry works, Croc has been "short packed". This means that if a store gets a crate of Batman toys, it will have, like, 5 "Fightin' Ninja" Batmans, 5 "Neon Pantsuit" Batmans, 4 "Undersea Clambake" Batmans, and then one "Killer Croc". Apparently only collectors buy the villains, so toy companies short change the stores in every box. This sounds like hogwash to me. I had every Imperial Trooper I could get my hands on when i was a kid. I think they're mistaking dumb, lame villains not selling for villains not selling. Anyhow, end rant...
Here's what Killer Croc looks like. If you see him, let me know. Finding Mr. Freeze was next to impossible, but I did it. I know if we work together, Killer Croc is mine!!!!!
Thursday, January 22, 2004
You know, sometimes it's just easier to just put down the crackpipe than get taken in by things like this...
An attorney i know tells me two of his clients were busted using this self-same device.
An attorney i know tells me two of his clients were busted using this self-same device.
Powell's admission here is something which makes him all the more human, and we must love him for it.
I, too, once hated the French. But then along came my own personal Frenchman. His name was Abtine, and he was a very confused Frenchman newly arrived to the United States. I hired him as a student worker (despite the fact he had shown up at my office by mistake while looking for a job at a completely different university office).
"I like the cut of your jib, Frenchy!" I told him. "And you don't smell as bad as advertised!"
Abtine had no idea what i was talking about, just smiled politely and took the job.
"Your people are a smelly, diagreeable people!" I told him.
"Oh?" he would say.
"Yes! Smelly and disagreeable. Yet they make a nice Statue of Liberty, and I enjoy croissants! Explain!"
"I do not know!"
"We'll figure it out together, Frog-man!"
And so we did.
And I came to love my little Frenchman, so full of the joie de vivre was he!
When he went home, he brought me back a nifty snowglobe of the Eiffel Tower. I had provided him with a portrait of him that he could show to his mother.
"Notice the baguette in one hand, Frenchy! And the glass of wine in the other! I've also added a curly mustache, although you do not have one."
"Perhaps I should grow one."
"I think we'd all like that. Get to it."
We gave Abtine a new nickname as "Frenchy" only partly covered who he really was, and so he became "Titine (Tee-Teen), the Frenchman."
Titine came to love this wonderful country of ours, and I came to understand not all Frenchman are smelly ingrates. Especially not my Titine. I miss him so.
I, too, once hated the French. But then along came my own personal Frenchman. His name was Abtine, and he was a very confused Frenchman newly arrived to the United States. I hired him as a student worker (despite the fact he had shown up at my office by mistake while looking for a job at a completely different university office).
"I like the cut of your jib, Frenchy!" I told him. "And you don't smell as bad as advertised!"
Abtine had no idea what i was talking about, just smiled politely and took the job.
"Your people are a smelly, diagreeable people!" I told him.
"Oh?" he would say.
"Yes! Smelly and disagreeable. Yet they make a nice Statue of Liberty, and I enjoy croissants! Explain!"
"I do not know!"
"We'll figure it out together, Frog-man!"
And so we did.
And I came to love my little Frenchman, so full of the joie de vivre was he!
When he went home, he brought me back a nifty snowglobe of the Eiffel Tower. I had provided him with a portrait of him that he could show to his mother.
"Notice the baguette in one hand, Frenchy! And the glass of wine in the other! I've also added a curly mustache, although you do not have one."
"Perhaps I should grow one."
"I think we'd all like that. Get to it."
We gave Abtine a new nickname as "Frenchy" only partly covered who he really was, and so he became "Titine (Tee-Teen), the Frenchman."
Titine came to love this wonderful country of ours, and I came to understand not all Frenchman are smelly ingrates. Especially not my Titine. I miss him so.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Randy Writes:
Why would Superman need a supermobile? Isn't he already super without a car? I can understand Batman's need for a batmobile and a batplane, but Superman? Isn't a Supermobile just plain redundant?
-Randy
Why, yes Randy. I actually had a toy of the Supermobile when I was a wee tot, and I asked myself these very same questions... And I remember my brother saying "Dummy..." (He always started with "Dummy"). "Dummy," he said, "What if he has to fly into an asteroid field full of Kryptonite?"
Ahhhhh...., I thought. Bullshit.
Anyway, it seems Corgi toys wanted to make a Superman themed toy, but they did pretty much just vehicles. So they thought up something Superman could use, because a car seemed REALLY impratical for the Man of Steel. What I remember about the tiny toy is that it had little chormed fists that shot out with the push of a button. Ah, the Supermobile.
Why would Superman need a supermobile? Isn't he already super without a car? I can understand Batman's need for a batmobile and a batplane, but Superman? Isn't a Supermobile just plain redundant?
-Randy
Why, yes Randy. I actually had a toy of the Supermobile when I was a wee tot, and I asked myself these very same questions... And I remember my brother saying "Dummy..." (He always started with "Dummy"). "Dummy," he said, "What if he has to fly into an asteroid field full of Kryptonite?"
Ahhhhh...., I thought. Bullshit.
Anyway, it seems Corgi toys wanted to make a Superman themed toy, but they did pretty much just vehicles. So they thought up something Superman could use, because a car seemed REALLY impratical for the Man of Steel. What I remember about the tiny toy is that it had little chormed fists that shot out with the push of a button. Ah, the Supermobile.
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