It appears Emily is hopped up on goofballs as she continues in her misguided, yet relentless pursuit to join with the forces of evil.
Apparently Emily rates qualified indifference on part of both pet and owner as a desirable trait in her pet of choice, the house cat. While convenient, it's that same indifference which makes cats the less loyal and less loving of animals. The other qualities Emily describes also fit dogs to a "T", as well.
Prior to Mel, here is a list of animals I've played host to for long enough to describe the animals as pets:
2 dogs (Puffy and Misty)
1 cat (Jeff)
innumerable fish
2 gerbils (Leonard Nimoy and Richard M. Nixon)
1 hamster (Sandy)
2 Guinea Pigs (Speedy and I don't remember)
2 rabbits (Skeeter and Skooter)
1 Boa constrictor (Baby Boa)
2 turtles (Hurdle and Floyd)
1 Python (Perry the Python)
1 Iguana (Flash)
2 hermit crabs
2 fire newts (Zap and I don't remember)
2 other lizards (Exit and I don't know)
1 tarantula (Mr. Crawly)
In short, I've had the pets which you can ignore. Give me 116 pounds of Golden Retriever anyday. Good 'ol Mel. Hope he's not too bored at home.
Hopefully Emily can turn away from the abyss of feline despair before it's too late.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
In response to my query, Emily posts about her lack of desire to allow Randy to become the proud co-habitant of man's best friend.
Randy writes:
Dear Mel,
Are you single? I know a cute golden retriever named "Princess" who I think you would like. She's only two years old, and is very friendly and outgoing. She loves to play and she lives with about 4 cats, so she shares your pain. The only problem is that Princess lives in Franklin, TN. Will that be a problem?
Randy
Dear Randy,
Mel have swinging bachelor lifestyle Mel very content with. Mel not certain Mel can make committment of long term relationship when Mel mostly confined to backyard and house. TN sounds like far off scary place with no vowels. As much as Mel would like to sniff at Princess and possibly steal Princess toys, Mel not sure if Princess would be right for Mel. Mel mostly introverted and like to stay home and get chubby man attention. Just last night Mel refused to leave chubby man alone, so mel got lots of petting. "Leave me alone! Go bother Jamie!" said chubby man, but I know he is just kidding, so mel put paw on him and really lean into him then.
"Fine. You want a milkbone?" said chubby man. And then my tail start wagging, which tell mel that Mel must be excited. So Mel run again to cabinet to show chubby man where milkbone is in case chubby man forgot. Then Mel go outside.
If Princess feel this lifestyle suit Princess, then that okay. Mel not really sure what to do with girlfriend anyway since Mel have "procedure".
Dear Mel,
Are you single? I know a cute golden retriever named "Princess" who I think you would like. She's only two years old, and is very friendly and outgoing. She loves to play and she lives with about 4 cats, so she shares your pain. The only problem is that Princess lives in Franklin, TN. Will that be a problem?
Randy
Dear Randy,
Mel have swinging bachelor lifestyle Mel very content with. Mel not certain Mel can make committment of long term relationship when Mel mostly confined to backyard and house. TN sounds like far off scary place with no vowels. As much as Mel would like to sniff at Princess and possibly steal Princess toys, Mel not sure if Princess would be right for Mel. Mel mostly introverted and like to stay home and get chubby man attention. Just last night Mel refused to leave chubby man alone, so mel got lots of petting. "Leave me alone! Go bother Jamie!" said chubby man, but I know he is just kidding, so mel put paw on him and really lean into him then.
"Fine. You want a milkbone?" said chubby man. And then my tail start wagging, which tell mel that Mel must be excited. So Mel run again to cabinet to show chubby man where milkbone is in case chubby man forgot. Then Mel go outside.
If Princess feel this lifestyle suit Princess, then that okay. Mel not really sure what to do with girlfriend anyway since Mel have "procedure".
Randy writes:
Dear Mel,
After reading some of your responses, I detect a note of resentment against Jeff the cat. Am I correct? And if so, why do you hate Jeff? Is it some deep instinctive thing or does it have something to do with your mother?
Dear Randy,
Mel has thought about Randy questions. Cat is mean bitey thing that bite Mel leg and bottom just because Mel pass by. Cat only nice to Mel when cat is cold. Stupid cat. To do with mother? Mel think that sometime a cat is just a cat.
Dear Mel,
After reading some of your responses, I detect a note of resentment against Jeff the cat. Am I correct? And if so, why do you hate Jeff? Is it some deep instinctive thing or does it have something to do with your mother?
Dear Randy,
Mel has thought about Randy questions. Cat is mean bitey thing that bite Mel leg and bottom just because Mel pass by. Cat only nice to Mel when cat is cold. Stupid cat. To do with mother? Mel think that sometime a cat is just a cat.
Ever a fan of the democratic process, the League trotted off to our local polling place this morning to vote in favor of the Reverend Al Sharpton in the Arizona Democratic Primary. The League is keeping it's collective fingers crossed that The Reverend is able to pull it out in Arizona!
Our polling place was a small Baptist church off the side of a road. Jamie and I pulled in and looked at the church, and while it looked like a light or two might be on, evidence of democracy in action seemed... less than forthcoming.
"Is it open yet?"
Jamie looked at her little flyer we got in the mail. "Six A.M. until-"
"Man, not many democrats out in Chandler..." I whistled.
I think subconsciously Jamie and I had agreed not to tell one another who our candidate of choice was. I turned to her and said "I have no idea who you're voting for."
"Yup." she nodded.
There was a guy leaving as we came in, and there at the table were, I think, 6 volunteers. And somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 "booths". And the two of us.
I needlessly produced my registration card and looked at the huge book of registered voters in our area.
I gave my name and got the shortest ballot I'd seen since elementary school. Just one item to vote on, but holy cow, were there a lot of names on that list. A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized Braun is no longer running, and thusly removing the opportunity to elect a person who seems like the world's best next door neighbor.
Anyway, I put in my vote for the Reverend, and off we went.
But, yeah... I would love to know how many votes total come out of our precinct, because my polling place was a cold and lonely place.
In Austin we got to vote at the elementary school down the street, which was utterly invigorating. it appeared almost everyone walked to the school from the area, and stood in line kind of grinning. No nervous apprehension at our polling place! Kids filed by and hand drawn pictures were tacked to the wall. People didn't talk much, and nobody was shouting about their candidate, but it was fun to just know we were all their to participate together.
Okay, I'm a nerd and I like to vote.
Our polling place was a small Baptist church off the side of a road. Jamie and I pulled in and looked at the church, and while it looked like a light or two might be on, evidence of democracy in action seemed... less than forthcoming.
"Is it open yet?"
Jamie looked at her little flyer we got in the mail. "Six A.M. until-"
"Man, not many democrats out in Chandler..." I whistled.
I think subconsciously Jamie and I had agreed not to tell one another who our candidate of choice was. I turned to her and said "I have no idea who you're voting for."
"Yup." she nodded.
There was a guy leaving as we came in, and there at the table were, I think, 6 volunteers. And somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 "booths". And the two of us.
I needlessly produced my registration card and looked at the huge book of registered voters in our area.
I gave my name and got the shortest ballot I'd seen since elementary school. Just one item to vote on, but holy cow, were there a lot of names on that list. A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized Braun is no longer running, and thusly removing the opportunity to elect a person who seems like the world's best next door neighbor.
Anyway, I put in my vote for the Reverend, and off we went.
But, yeah... I would love to know how many votes total come out of our precinct, because my polling place was a cold and lonely place.
In Austin we got to vote at the elementary school down the street, which was utterly invigorating. it appeared almost everyone walked to the school from the area, and stood in line kind of grinning. No nervous apprehension at our polling place! Kids filed by and hand drawn pictures were tacked to the wall. People didn't talk much, and nobody was shouting about their candidate, but it was fun to just know we were all their to participate together.
Okay, I'm a nerd and I like to vote.
Monday, February 02, 2004
Meant to thank Jeff via e-mail for this link, but my mail keeps getting returned to me.
Love this stuff.
Love this stuff.
The potential for FCC violation was enough for me to believe that the whole "janet shows her boob" thing didn't go down as planned.
Now, having reviewed The Drudge Report today, I fully believe the thing was pre-planned in some way or other, but it just seems like such an ill-conceived publicity stunt, and that SURELY those involved had to know it would end badly... Or, at least, how this was going to play in living rooms in middle-America.
But reviewing the footage leads to the almost inescapable conclusion that Timberlake was intentionally tearing at the outfit. Whether Jackson herslef is involved is almost impossible to determine.
Again, one would wonder, if the boob's appearance were, in fact, intentional, were they really aware of how sad and boring their half-time show was that to make it exciting, they had to add a boob? Are Jackson's sales slumping so badly and her managers so uncreative that they've resorted to "shock" tactics?
I'm not sure it's the boob which is so surprising. It was the unnecessary addition which was the surprise. I mean, had Timberlake yelled "F**k Wisconsin!" at the end, I'd probably be just as obsessed with finding an anwer.
What was going on there? Did they think the FCC takes a nap on Superbowl Sunday? Did they not care? Is Jackson's career that bad? Does CBS really believe grown adults listen to Justin Timberlake and P. Diddy? Why do all Janet Jackson songs after Rythm Nation sound exactly alike? Was Nelly on fire? Was that a real flag Kid Rock cut up to wear as a poncho?
I dunno. I hate to break this to all of you marching band nerds and drill team pixies, but half-time is not actually meant to entertain you. Half-time is meant for going to the can and getting another hotdog. Let's keep it that way.
Now, having reviewed The Drudge Report today, I fully believe the thing was pre-planned in some way or other, but it just seems like such an ill-conceived publicity stunt, and that SURELY those involved had to know it would end badly... Or, at least, how this was going to play in living rooms in middle-America.
But reviewing the footage leads to the almost inescapable conclusion that Timberlake was intentionally tearing at the outfit. Whether Jackson herslef is involved is almost impossible to determine.
Again, one would wonder, if the boob's appearance were, in fact, intentional, were they really aware of how sad and boring their half-time show was that to make it exciting, they had to add a boob? Are Jackson's sales slumping so badly and her managers so uncreative that they've resorted to "shock" tactics?
I'm not sure it's the boob which is so surprising. It was the unnecessary addition which was the surprise. I mean, had Timberlake yelled "F**k Wisconsin!" at the end, I'd probably be just as obsessed with finding an anwer.
What was going on there? Did they think the FCC takes a nap on Superbowl Sunday? Did they not care? Is Jackson's career that bad? Does CBS really believe grown adults listen to Justin Timberlake and P. Diddy? Why do all Janet Jackson songs after Rythm Nation sound exactly alike? Was Nelly on fire? Was that a real flag Kid Rock cut up to wear as a poncho?
I dunno. I hate to break this to all of you marching band nerds and drill team pixies, but half-time is not actually meant to entertain you. Half-time is meant for going to the can and getting another hotdog. Let's keep it that way.
I keep telling myself I'm going to be famous for being the guy who has the kick-ass Groundhog Day party. But I've never had one. Groundhog Day, Arbor Day or President's Day. I mean, really give people something to look forward to.
Anyway, for those of us in the desert, an extended winter sounds great. Sorry, people who live in wintery, inhospitable climates. Us in the desert are totally excited about the prospect of a lengthier winter.
Happy Groundhog Day, Leaguers.
Anyway, for those of us in the desert, an extended winter sounds great. Sorry, people who live in wintery, inhospitable climates. Us in the desert are totally excited about the prospect of a lengthier winter.
Happy Groundhog Day, Leaguers.
Would it be cruelty, evil or sheer bad temperament which would cause one person to prevent another from getting a dog? Dogs are good. Dogs poop in the yard instead of the litter box. Dogs protect your house and valuables. Dogs are sweet and pay attention to you. Dogs like to lay on the floor with you when you're tired. Dogs can make you happy. So what kind of twisted evil would prevent you from wanting to share your home with a dog? I cannot imagine. But it would make you a bad, bad person.
Randy continues to refuse to go to his reunion. Is he cowering in cowardly cowardice? I refuse to believe Randy cannot face his past. indeed. Randy should look at this as the opportunity to embrace that which he once loathed and dreaded. It is time for Randy to return to Houston and share the wisdom he has gained upon his journeys.
Okay, yes, it's a bit silly to get that pumped up about a boob. I do, after all, have cable.
Let me make clear here that what I was squealing like a drunk otter about had a lot more to do with some screwing up that badly on national TV. Scratch that. International TV.
Look, like the Oscars, I have a love/ hate relationship with the Superbowl. Most of the time, the game is deadly dull and the best part about it is that I've called in sick in advance, so I can nurse my hangover on Monday. The adage that "you watch it for the commercials" isn't very realistic anymore. Ad agencies got wise, and nobody blows money on these ads the way they used to. Or, at least, the new or interesting commercials get used up in the first 45 minutes (how about that Ford GT?).
And I hateses, I hateses the half-time show. Ever since David Copperfield lamed it up back around '89, I've been pretty wary of the whole enterprise. Jamie claims last year's half-time show was okay, but I'm still fixated on how abso-ludicrous the Britney Spears/ Aerosmith half-time show was two years ago. Seriously. It was awful.
The pre-show entertainment this year was cheesy and smarmy enough, but what was up with the Astronaut thing? I mean, really. It was great to see a shuttle crew, but two minutes before kick-off, nobody needs to be serenaded by Josh Groban (except my mum, who loves Groban). In fact, the Panthers may have cause to sue if they can prove it was Groban's serenade which made them lose the will to live, and thereby, the will to win the game. I wasn't sure what the angelic children's choir, Groban, NASA, some Apache helicopters and a stretching Tom Brady all had to do with each other, but the directors made sure I saw all of these things in a beautiful montage.
(***UPDATE *** okay, yes. I feel bad. It was, in fact, nice to remember the anniversary of the tragedy of the Space Shuttle Columbia's destruction over Texas. But... the astronaut guy... in the suit... on the elevator... then waving the flag while the flag kids ran around... and the kiddy choir... and Tom Brady stretching... c'mon. Work with me here.)
Anyway, this is the context of the Superbowl. Cheesy. Wholesome. Over-hyped. Uber-patriotic and fun for the whole family.
So if I find Janet Jackson's boob suddenly springing forth to somehow create some cognitive dissonance, you will have to forgive me. We are not the French. Yes, we Americans should all be more desensitized to the naked female form and not feel inclined to gouge out our own eyes for the sin of seeing the naked female flesh. But we are not desensitized. Especially when the form belongs to Janet Jackson. Performing with the heinous excuse for entertainment which is Justin Timberlake. At half-time. Of the Superbowl. Sigh. What do you want? It's MTV.
Let me make clear here that what I was squealing like a drunk otter about had a lot more to do with some screwing up that badly on national TV. Scratch that. International TV.
Look, like the Oscars, I have a love/ hate relationship with the Superbowl. Most of the time, the game is deadly dull and the best part about it is that I've called in sick in advance, so I can nurse my hangover on Monday. The adage that "you watch it for the commercials" isn't very realistic anymore. Ad agencies got wise, and nobody blows money on these ads the way they used to. Or, at least, the new or interesting commercials get used up in the first 45 minutes (how about that Ford GT?).
And I hateses, I hateses the half-time show. Ever since David Copperfield lamed it up back around '89, I've been pretty wary of the whole enterprise. Jamie claims last year's half-time show was okay, but I'm still fixated on how abso-ludicrous the Britney Spears/ Aerosmith half-time show was two years ago. Seriously. It was awful.
The pre-show entertainment this year was cheesy and smarmy enough, but what was up with the Astronaut thing? I mean, really. It was great to see a shuttle crew, but two minutes before kick-off, nobody needs to be serenaded by Josh Groban (except my mum, who loves Groban). In fact, the Panthers may have cause to sue if they can prove it was Groban's serenade which made them lose the will to live, and thereby, the will to win the game. I wasn't sure what the angelic children's choir, Groban, NASA, some Apache helicopters and a stretching Tom Brady all had to do with each other, but the directors made sure I saw all of these things in a beautiful montage.
(***UPDATE *** okay, yes. I feel bad. It was, in fact, nice to remember the anniversary of the tragedy of the Space Shuttle Columbia's destruction over Texas. But... the astronaut guy... in the suit... on the elevator... then waving the flag while the flag kids ran around... and the kiddy choir... and Tom Brady stretching... c'mon. Work with me here.)
Anyway, this is the context of the Superbowl. Cheesy. Wholesome. Over-hyped. Uber-patriotic and fun for the whole family.
So if I find Janet Jackson's boob suddenly springing forth to somehow create some cognitive dissonance, you will have to forgive me. We are not the French. Yes, we Americans should all be more desensitized to the naked female form and not feel inclined to gouge out our own eyes for the sin of seeing the naked female flesh. But we are not desensitized. Especially when the form belongs to Janet Jackson. Performing with the heinous excuse for entertainment which is Justin Timberlake. At half-time. Of the Superbowl. Sigh. What do you want? It's MTV.
Sunday, February 01, 2004
I was originally going to hop online just to say "there's nothing like a Superbowl half-time show to make you weep for humanity", when the whole Justin/ Janet thing happened. And while it's only been about ten minutes, I understand that I was the second person to call my buddy in Austin who was TIVOing the show. My buddy also promised to have the footage online by tomorrow morning, so hopefully I'll know more then.
Sadly, Jamie was looking at the mustard she was putting on her hotdog and missed the whole thing. So, yeah, it was just me hopping up and down alone on the couch.
UPDATE: Jim sent me this link. Photos. PG-13 rated.
UPDATE 2: This just gets weirder and weirder.
Sadly, Jamie was looking at the mustard she was putting on her hotdog and missed the whole thing. So, yeah, it was just me hopping up and down alone on the couch.
UPDATE: Jim sent me this link. Photos. PG-13 rated.
UPDATE 2: This just gets weirder and weirder.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Randy seems to be struggling with his demons from the past. He is refusing to go to his high-school reunion. And while I can empathize, I will still needle him endlessly until he joins our own Jim "Jimeroo" Dedman at their joint 10-year high-school reunion.
The League has been following pre-production and development rumors on a proposed WB produced Superman movie for the past few years. I've learned to quit listening, but yesterday I was rolling when I heard the rumor that Beyonce Knowles might be picked up to play Lois Lane. It's not that she could or couldn't do it.. it's just funny. Anyone who is labeled as "hot" is always mentioned for these things, and things get out of control. Unfortunately, from the movie "Batman Forever", we can see that these things can and do happen, and the result ain't that fantastic.
I've heard sets were being constructed at least five times, that studios were locked down for production to begin "anyday" for over a year, and nothing has yet happened.
What keeps creeping me out is the persistent rumor that uber-dork Ashton Kutscher (sp?) keeps getting mentioned for the role of Superman. I don't think I need to draw you a chart to point out the problems with this.
it is based upon this evidence that I am led to believe the Warner Bros. movie studio is largely run by horny chimpnazees.
Anyhoo...
For an actually pretty GOOD Superman movie, keep your eyes peeled at Target, etc... for the Superman: Last Son of Krypton video coming to DVD next Tuesday. It's the 3-part pilot from the animated series which ran while I was in college, and kind of continues to integrate into the current Justice League cartoon. THe parts on Krypton and Smallville are fantastic, and the story with the robot... ah, well, it's Superman. It's also a pilot for a TV show, so it doesn't exactly have a huge climax. But it's cool. Because it's SUPERMAN.
The League has been following pre-production and development rumors on a proposed WB produced Superman movie for the past few years. I've learned to quit listening, but yesterday I was rolling when I heard the rumor that Beyonce Knowles might be picked up to play Lois Lane. It's not that she could or couldn't do it.. it's just funny. Anyone who is labeled as "hot" is always mentioned for these things, and things get out of control. Unfortunately, from the movie "Batman Forever", we can see that these things can and do happen, and the result ain't that fantastic.
I've heard sets were being constructed at least five times, that studios were locked down for production to begin "anyday" for over a year, and nothing has yet happened.
What keeps creeping me out is the persistent rumor that uber-dork Ashton Kutscher (sp?) keeps getting mentioned for the role of Superman. I don't think I need to draw you a chart to point out the problems with this.
it is based upon this evidence that I am led to believe the Warner Bros. movie studio is largely run by horny chimpnazees.
Anyhoo...
For an actually pretty GOOD Superman movie, keep your eyes peeled at Target, etc... for the Superman: Last Son of Krypton video coming to DVD next Tuesday. It's the 3-part pilot from the animated series which ran while I was in college, and kind of continues to integrate into the current Justice League cartoon. THe parts on Krypton and Smallville are fantastic, and the story with the robot... ah, well, it's Superman. It's also a pilot for a TV show, so it doesn't exactly have a huge climax. But it's cool. Because it's SUPERMAN.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
And just because my ADD popped this into my head in the middle of class last night and almost made me start laughing out loud:
From Conan the Barbarian:
Mongol General: We have won again. That is good! But what is best in life?
Mongol Warrior: The open steppe, fleet horse, falcon on your wrist, wind in your hair!
Mongol General: Wrong! Conan, what is best in life?
Conan: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of the woman!
From Conan the Barbarian:
Mongol General: We have won again. That is good! But what is best in life?
Mongol Warrior: The open steppe, fleet horse, falcon on your wrist, wind in your hair!
Mongol General: Wrong! Conan, what is best in life?
Conan: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of the woman!
So yesterday I'm in a meeting with my director, who is a good guy, but busy enough that getting time with him can be like nailing jell-o to the wall. I'm not feeling well at all. I haven't been sleeping much lately and the pita I ate for lunch is strongly disagreeing with me. The topic of our conversation is not one which makes me particularly happy. And then one of my office-mates steps in and says the words I dread to hear:
"Ryan, there's a guy here to see you. He says his name is (oh, let's call him Steve Christmas). He says you don't know he's coming."
Leaguers, we are not on campus. We are off campus. We are in an office suite so difficult to find that we've lost client contracts due to the fact that the clients couldn't locate us. But Steve Christmas found me. And interrupted me in my very important meeting.
"Does he have a gun...?"
Rachel let out a weak laugh.
"Is he carrying a violin case?"
Nothing
So I stepped out of my meeting (which was very important) to meet Steve Christmas, who looked wild-eyed and pissed off.
Steve Christmas was upset. Very upset. So I sat him down in an unused office (but not mine) and looked him in the eye.
"So how can I help you?"
Leaguers, our business is based upon the notion that people pay a fee for their online courses. Yes, yes... terribly evil. And if you believe that, I have a gentleman name of Steve Christmas who would like to be your friend.
"Why can't I see the online lectures?"
"We have a differential fee--"
"I don't like the fact that my tuition pays for these online classes to go up and I can't take them!"
"No, the fees you just said you didn't want to pay for covers our expenses."
"Oh. Well, those fees are expensive!"
"They sure are."
"I think I should have access to the online classes!"
"Aren't you already in the on-campus section?"
"Yes, but I want to see the online lectures!"
"but aren't you usually in on-campus classes?"
"Yes, but the cost is too high. I don't understand why you would make me a second class student!"
"THe President of the University and the Dean--"
"right. They want to make money. I understand. But the faculty goes too fast!"
"Tell him to slow down."
"I will! It'll slow down the video! Your online students will hate it!"
"Well, you know if he's going too fast, everybody would-"
"They're not going to like it when I keep interrupting the video to slow him down!"
"okay..."
Anyway, Steve tore into me for only about ten minutes, as I tried to explain that I am, in fact, a government schill, and that if he didn't like the fees or being in a studio classroom, that maybe he should take it up with the Dean as my livelihood depended upon these fees and these studios.
"You know, you're making a commodity out of education!"
"...okay..."
"And just like all these tech jobs, somebody overseas is going to do this better than you, and cheaper!"
"...okay..."
"And you're going to be out of a job, just like all the tech people!"
"...okay..."
"I just hope, you know, you can live with that!"
"... okay... I'll try..."
"Because this isn't going to last."
"...okay..."
By now Steve Christmas was either naturally one twitchy guy, or he was shaking angry at me for just saying "...okay.." to every one of his dire visions of doom. And I wasn't feeling well, and I had a lot of other stuff to do.
"You should probably talk to the dean of academic affairs. i don't set policy."
"Oh, right. Like he'll see me."
"Well, I don't know. But I don't really make any of these decisions."
"So you're just here to get yelled at." (it was not a question.)
"Mostly."
"Well, i just want you to know, this isn't going to stand!"
"...okay..."
And the whole time I'm calculating the likelihood of this guy having a knife under his coat, because he's getting twitchier and twitchier. But at this point, twitchy Steve Christmas kind of left in a rush.
I guess my office mates heard the whole thing. I went back to the meeting and sat down.
"You did the right thing," my director said, nodding sagely.
"Oh yeah, what's that?"
"You didn't let him talk to me."
Ah, government.
And the best part is, now I have to keep one eye open in case Steve Christmas shows up again. Last semester it was just a petition to have me sacked. I can't wait to see how Crazy Steve Christmas takes it to the next level.
"Ryan, there's a guy here to see you. He says his name is (oh, let's call him Steve Christmas). He says you don't know he's coming."
Leaguers, we are not on campus. We are off campus. We are in an office suite so difficult to find that we've lost client contracts due to the fact that the clients couldn't locate us. But Steve Christmas found me. And interrupted me in my very important meeting.
"Does he have a gun...?"
Rachel let out a weak laugh.
"Is he carrying a violin case?"
Nothing
So I stepped out of my meeting (which was very important) to meet Steve Christmas, who looked wild-eyed and pissed off.
Steve Christmas was upset. Very upset. So I sat him down in an unused office (but not mine) and looked him in the eye.
"So how can I help you?"
Leaguers, our business is based upon the notion that people pay a fee for their online courses. Yes, yes... terribly evil. And if you believe that, I have a gentleman name of Steve Christmas who would like to be your friend.
"Why can't I see the online lectures?"
"We have a differential fee--"
"I don't like the fact that my tuition pays for these online classes to go up and I can't take them!"
"No, the fees you just said you didn't want to pay for covers our expenses."
"Oh. Well, those fees are expensive!"
"They sure are."
"I think I should have access to the online classes!"
"Aren't you already in the on-campus section?"
"Yes, but I want to see the online lectures!"
"but aren't you usually in on-campus classes?"
"Yes, but the cost is too high. I don't understand why you would make me a second class student!"
"THe President of the University and the Dean--"
"right. They want to make money. I understand. But the faculty goes too fast!"
"Tell him to slow down."
"I will! It'll slow down the video! Your online students will hate it!"
"Well, you know if he's going too fast, everybody would-"
"They're not going to like it when I keep interrupting the video to slow him down!"
"okay..."
Anyway, Steve tore into me for only about ten minutes, as I tried to explain that I am, in fact, a government schill, and that if he didn't like the fees or being in a studio classroom, that maybe he should take it up with the Dean as my livelihood depended upon these fees and these studios.
"You know, you're making a commodity out of education!"
"...okay..."
"And just like all these tech jobs, somebody overseas is going to do this better than you, and cheaper!"
"...okay..."
"And you're going to be out of a job, just like all the tech people!"
"...okay..."
"I just hope, you know, you can live with that!"
"... okay... I'll try..."
"Because this isn't going to last."
"...okay..."
By now Steve Christmas was either naturally one twitchy guy, or he was shaking angry at me for just saying "...okay.." to every one of his dire visions of doom. And I wasn't feeling well, and I had a lot of other stuff to do.
"You should probably talk to the dean of academic affairs. i don't set policy."
"Oh, right. Like he'll see me."
"Well, I don't know. But I don't really make any of these decisions."
"So you're just here to get yelled at." (it was not a question.)
"Mostly."
"Well, i just want you to know, this isn't going to stand!"
"...okay..."
And the whole time I'm calculating the likelihood of this guy having a knife under his coat, because he's getting twitchier and twitchier. But at this point, twitchy Steve Christmas kind of left in a rush.
I guess my office mates heard the whole thing. I went back to the meeting and sat down.
"You did the right thing," my director said, nodding sagely.
"Oh yeah, what's that?"
"You didn't let him talk to me."
Ah, government.
And the best part is, now I have to keep one eye open in case Steve Christmas shows up again. Last semester it was just a petition to have me sacked. I can't wait to see how Crazy Steve Christmas takes it to the next level.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
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.
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.
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.
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