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.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
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.
Thanks again to Jim for yet another Sci-Fi'd vehicle posting. May the force be with you on the 101.
One wonders if I actually bought Superman seat covers, what else I would need to do to turn my car into the Supermobile?
For those about to rock New Hampshire, we salute you. See, the League's candidate, the Reverend Al Sharpton, should have gotten the Isley Brothers to do something for his delirious concession speech. Oh, and Charlie Brown...
One wonders if I actually bought Superman seat covers, what else I would need to do to turn my car into the Supermobile?
For those about to rock New Hampshire, we salute you. See, the League's candidate, the Reverend Al Sharpton, should have gotten the Isley Brothers to do something for his delirious concession speech. Oh, and Charlie Brown...
Once again, the President has personally inconvenienced me and those close to me. Jamie cannot go to her doctor's sppointment today because the Secret Service is shutting down the area near her hospital because Bush is speaking at the Community College down the street.
What next, Mr. President? What diabolical scheme will you launch to slightly inconvenience us next time?
What next, Mr. President? What diabolical scheme will you launch to slightly inconvenience us next time?
The semester kicked off for me in two ways yesterday. Yes, I work at a University, so I still think in terms of semesters and summer break and whatnot.
We launched somewhere in the nighborhood of 45 classes yesterday with quite a few students enrolled in our online programs. I am now managing not just my usual team of three full-timers, co-managing a few others, and lording over my my three student programmers, but I have also taken on 8 studio techs and I need to hire one or two more. (if anyone knows anybody who is available from 7:30-1:30, TTh, Arizona time, I'd appreciate a shout).
Wow. I am full of power. And I still do my own photocopying!
I also began the second course of my masters program. Hoo-ahhh... Busy day. Anyway, at least I know two people in my masters class and they're both people I liked from my previous course. Now let's see if I learn anything.
We launched somewhere in the nighborhood of 45 classes yesterday with quite a few students enrolled in our online programs. I am now managing not just my usual team of three full-timers, co-managing a few others, and lording over my my three student programmers, but I have also taken on 8 studio techs and I need to hire one or two more. (if anyone knows anybody who is available from 7:30-1:30, TTh, Arizona time, I'd appreciate a shout).
Wow. I am full of power. And I still do my own photocopying!
I also began the second course of my masters program. Hoo-ahhh... Busy day. Anyway, at least I know two people in my masters class and they're both people I liked from my previous course. Now let's see if I learn anything.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
the crosswalk sign at University and Forest in Tempe says "Walk Light is on." But if you aren't listening closely, you'll think it says "Walk like a dog."
Also, the guy who played Sam in Lord of the Rings is the son of Gomez Addams. We live in a strange, funny world.
Also, the guy who played Sam in Lord of the Rings is the son of Gomez Addams. We live in a strange, funny world.
Randy writes:
Dear Mel,
Is it better to have love and lost than to not have loved at all?
Dear Randy,
Mel have pondered question for long time and now ready to answer. But before Mel answer, Mel consult many around him. Chubby man-boy thing say "Who is a good boy?" to Mel. And Mel say "Mel!" And he ask again "Who is a good boy?" and I say "MEL!!!!!!" and he say, "You are, Mel! You are a good boy! Now have a milkbone." and I know that chubby man-boy thing love me.
And I ask stupid dog next door "what is love?" and dog say "bark bar bark bark I am stupid bark bark bark".
So I ask cat, and cat say "Jeff love many thing. Jeff love blanket, stuffed hippo, cushion on couch and anything Jeff can get paw on." So Mel sleep with one eye open.
So Mel ask white lady "What is love?" and lady say "who is good boy?" and I say "MEL!" and she say "Good boy! Shake!" and Mel give her paw. And that seem okay. So then Mel think, white lady and chubby man-boy thing put Mel in jail not so long ago, and nobody there but many stupid dog who bark bark bark, and that kind of sucked. So no love, Mel think like laying on cement and having to listen to stupid dog bark bark bark all day. And Mel not sure when he escape, but Mel does, and then all better.
For cat, no love mean being chased away from cushion or pillow or blanket, and then maybe no love at all better.
So, Randy, if by love, you mean love blanket and pillow and stuffed hippo, then mel say, better never to love at all.
Dear Mel,
Is it better to have love and lost than to not have loved at all?
Dear Randy,
Mel have pondered question for long time and now ready to answer. But before Mel answer, Mel consult many around him. Chubby man-boy thing say "Who is a good boy?" to Mel. And Mel say "Mel!" And he ask again "Who is a good boy?" and I say "MEL!!!!!!" and he say, "You are, Mel! You are a good boy! Now have a milkbone." and I know that chubby man-boy thing love me.
And I ask stupid dog next door "what is love?" and dog say "bark bar bark bark I am stupid bark bark bark".
So I ask cat, and cat say "Jeff love many thing. Jeff love blanket, stuffed hippo, cushion on couch and anything Jeff can get paw on." So Mel sleep with one eye open.
So Mel ask white lady "What is love?" and lady say "who is good boy?" and I say "MEL!" and she say "Good boy! Shake!" and Mel give her paw. And that seem okay. So then Mel think, white lady and chubby man-boy thing put Mel in jail not so long ago, and nobody there but many stupid dog who bark bark bark, and that kind of sucked. So no love, Mel think like laying on cement and having to listen to stupid dog bark bark bark all day. And Mel not sure when he escape, but Mel does, and then all better.
For cat, no love mean being chased away from cushion or pillow or blanket, and then maybe no love at all better.
So, Randy, if by love, you mean love blanket and pillow and stuffed hippo, then mel say, better never to love at all.
Jim Lee takes over art chores on Superman with issue #204 beginning in April. Lee is responsible for the greatest selling issues of X-Men ever, as well as the tremendous "Hush" storyline in Batman from last year.
Supergirl's introduction continues in Superman/ Batman #9 in April. I love Turner's art. I need to figure out what else the guy has done. (and, as my pal Erik "Zoomy" Zumalt pointed out, you can tell how crazy batman is by the length of his ears. Adam West... not so crazy...)
Supergirl's introduction continues in Superman/ Batman #9 in April. I love Turner's art. I need to figure out what else the guy has done. (and, as my pal Erik "Zoomy" Zumalt pointed out, you can tell how crazy batman is by the length of his ears. Adam West... not so crazy...)
Maxwell writes:
Dear Melbotis,
My mother in law also writes an advice column. However, unlike your advice column, she has decided to let her other schizophrenic personalities join her in answering questions. I have noticed that your advice column is very successful, in some ways even more successful than my crazy mother in law's (and I mean "crazy" in the most endearing of ways. She does have three or four personalities, evidently.) own column. For instance, nobody writes to ask my mother in law for advice anymore, just one guy named Ryan who has been kind enough to send several questions. How does Melbotis manage to get so many questions? Also, can dogs be schizophrenic?
Thanks,
Maxwell
Dear Maxwell,
How to get so many question? Mel think that many people not have fulfilling life like Mel and need guidance. And Dr. Phil much more difficult to get hold of.
But how answer so many question tricky part. Mel have very busy schedule! First, Mel go outside and poo and then lay down in grass. Then Mel lay there all day until white lady come home and pet me on head. THen I bark bark bark at stupid neighbor dog. Later, Mel eat and wag tail. Then chubby man come home and pet Mel on head. Then chubby man goes into closet and change pants which is sight to behold. Then Mel follow man around house until man find Mel toy and shake it at Mel face and say "Here's your damn toy. Now will you piss off so I can sit down for two minutes?" So Mel try to play with toy and drop it on chubby man until he play with Mel. This consist of Mel trying to remove teeth by gripping tightly to toy while chubby man lean backward.
Then Mel go outside and bark bark bark at stupid neighbor dog. Then white lady go to bed and Mel get milkbone and go outside.
How to keep schedule of answer question? Mel not sure, but it real pleasure. Also, cat is ghost writer.
Is dog schizophrenic? We not know.
Dear Melbotis,
My mother in law also writes an advice column. However, unlike your advice column, she has decided to let her other schizophrenic personalities join her in answering questions. I have noticed that your advice column is very successful, in some ways even more successful than my crazy mother in law's (and I mean "crazy" in the most endearing of ways. She does have three or four personalities, evidently.) own column. For instance, nobody writes to ask my mother in law for advice anymore, just one guy named Ryan who has been kind enough to send several questions. How does Melbotis manage to get so many questions? Also, can dogs be schizophrenic?
Thanks,
Maxwell
Dear Maxwell,
How to get so many question? Mel think that many people not have fulfilling life like Mel and need guidance. And Dr. Phil much more difficult to get hold of.
But how answer so many question tricky part. Mel have very busy schedule! First, Mel go outside and poo and then lay down in grass. Then Mel lay there all day until white lady come home and pet me on head. THen I bark bark bark at stupid neighbor dog. Later, Mel eat and wag tail. Then chubby man come home and pet Mel on head. Then chubby man goes into closet and change pants which is sight to behold. Then Mel follow man around house until man find Mel toy and shake it at Mel face and say "Here's your damn toy. Now will you piss off so I can sit down for two minutes?" So Mel try to play with toy and drop it on chubby man until he play with Mel. This consist of Mel trying to remove teeth by gripping tightly to toy while chubby man lean backward.
Then Mel go outside and bark bark bark at stupid neighbor dog. Then white lady go to bed and Mel get milkbone and go outside.
How to keep schedule of answer question? Mel not sure, but it real pleasure. Also, cat is ghost writer.
Is dog schizophrenic? We not know.
Monday, January 19, 2004
It's not looking good for The League's candidate of choice, the Reverend Al Sharpton. We sincerely hope that the good Reverend is able to pull ahead in the late hours of voting/ caucusing (or whatever the hell those Iowans are doing). However, should the good Reverend flop in the primaries, we are also excited about the notion of the good Reverend appearing in a future installment of The Surreal Life, possibly with Carrot Top, Cameo and Jenny McCarthy. I can dream, can't I?
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Two new blogs we're linking to here at the League.
Big salute to Emily for her colorful entry into the mind-boggling world of public journaling. And also to Distorted Veracity, which Jim pointed me to, and who has more faith in Rick Barnes and Co then myself.
Big salute to Emily for her colorful entry into the mind-boggling world of public journaling. And also to Distorted Veracity, which Jim pointed me to, and who has more faith in Rick Barnes and Co then myself.
The League is feeling oddly uninspired as of late.
There is a cloud of professional doom hanging over The league's head which may be part of the consternation. Also, the fact that "Ask Melbotis" was lifted directly from "Ask Zelda" over on Maxwell's page seems more than a little disingenuous.
I went to sleep at 7:30pm on Friday after a very, very busy work week. 7:30! I haven't done that in years. Somehow on the way home it hit me that I was insanely tired. I came home, ate a sandwich (I don't even know where the sandwich came from) and sat on the couch looking at the TV, feeling awful "it's been thirty minutes, and I feel no less awful" I told myself. I looked at the clock. It had been 3 minutes.
"I'm butt-assed tired," I said to Jamie. "I am going to bed."
And then I slept for 12 long hours. Which was terrific, because I got up at 7:30 and felt totally great.
The weekend went okay. I saw a good movie. Jamie even watched Conan with me on DVD, and we took Mel out to the pseudo-park in our neighborhood.
All in all, very quiet. Very nice.
But tomorrow I am going into work even though the Federal holiday says I don't have to. Too much to do. The professional hammer threatens to drop.
I need to go to the dry cleaner, and I need to buy a black ink cartridge for my printer. And I need to clean my bathroom, which is just gross enough I don't even want to touch it with cleaning agents.
Oh, and I ordered a jacket from an online store for fat guys. Yeah, I'm 6'5" and fat. The Gap does not accomodate me, which I tell them every time I am waiting while Jamie selects jeans. And then the sales guy says "oh, we have big sizes!" and then tells me a size I wore last when I was 19. Then I threaten to eat the stupid sales guy's head. I measured myself today. I am just at 6'5"+ in Nikes and something like 27 inches from elbow to elbow when my arms hang comfortably. Which means I don't fit in airplane seats and must order from this dumb online company if I want so much as a windbreaker because the retail store doesn't carry winter accesories in Arizona. Which is dumb. Anyway, the jacket is marked as "delivered" according to the company's website, but I don't have the jacket, so it's totally ridiculous. We'll see how it pans out, but dollars to donuts, I end up getting screwed on this one.
There is a cloud of professional doom hanging over The league's head which may be part of the consternation. Also, the fact that "Ask Melbotis" was lifted directly from "Ask Zelda" over on Maxwell's page seems more than a little disingenuous.
I went to sleep at 7:30pm on Friday after a very, very busy work week. 7:30! I haven't done that in years. Somehow on the way home it hit me that I was insanely tired. I came home, ate a sandwich (I don't even know where the sandwich came from) and sat on the couch looking at the TV, feeling awful "it's been thirty minutes, and I feel no less awful" I told myself. I looked at the clock. It had been 3 minutes.
"I'm butt-assed tired," I said to Jamie. "I am going to bed."
And then I slept for 12 long hours. Which was terrific, because I got up at 7:30 and felt totally great.
The weekend went okay. I saw a good movie. Jamie even watched Conan with me on DVD, and we took Mel out to the pseudo-park in our neighborhood.
All in all, very quiet. Very nice.
But tomorrow I am going into work even though the Federal holiday says I don't have to. Too much to do. The professional hammer threatens to drop.
I need to go to the dry cleaner, and I need to buy a black ink cartridge for my printer. And I need to clean my bathroom, which is just gross enough I don't even want to touch it with cleaning agents.
Oh, and I ordered a jacket from an online store for fat guys. Yeah, I'm 6'5" and fat. The Gap does not accomodate me, which I tell them every time I am waiting while Jamie selects jeans. And then the sales guy says "oh, we have big sizes!" and then tells me a size I wore last when I was 19. Then I threaten to eat the stupid sales guy's head. I measured myself today. I am just at 6'5"+ in Nikes and something like 27 inches from elbow to elbow when my arms hang comfortably. Which means I don't fit in airplane seats and must order from this dumb online company if I want so much as a windbreaker because the retail store doesn't carry winter accesories in Arizona. Which is dumb. Anyway, the jacket is marked as "delivered" according to the company's website, but I don't have the jacket, so it's totally ridiculous. We'll see how it pans out, but dollars to donuts, I end up getting screwed on this one.
Friday, January 16, 2004
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