2009-08-17 - On Our Next Episode . . .
2009-06-12 - RetroReflectionReaction
2009-04-13 - The Me Decade
2009-03-03 - Super Powered Sounds #3
2009-03-02 - Super Powered Sounds #2QUOTES! V.1QUOTES! V.2QUOTES! V.3QUOTES! V.4
Nobody Likes Dessert Pizza - They Just Pretend
2006-04-10 - 11:34 p.m.
So Fucked Up That I Want To Marry It: Wonder Showzen
Listening To: Jorge Ben, Tom Ze, White Stripes, Sufjan Stevens, Cyndi Lauper
Quote:"I think somebody slipped a mickey into my blueberry compote." - Kate, to Zach
Hi all you cats out there in real life land. I know it's probably fun to visit from time to time, but just know that my brain is in residence in the crazy butterfly sanctuary I call my head 24/7. You can visit and leave. I can't. But that's why I get to wear all this neon lycra and you don't! OR SOMETHING!!!!!!!
So going to the Pizza Hut buffet used to be the fuckin' thing to do. And you'd always go with a huge group. And people would fawn over the dessert pizza. That fucking weird thin pizza covered in blueberry, apple, or strawberry filling with white icing latticed across it. People would always give it kind words and talk about how they'd eat it, "if they had the other kind out" instead of the current selection. But nobody LIKES dessert pizza - they just pretend. Because they know they're SUPPOSED to. But more importantly, when it came time to pay? Hoo boy. What a fucking drama. I don't think I was ever, EVER involved in one of those pizza hut 6 person + lunches where absolutely EVERYONE paid their fair share. And the thing is, not everyone gets a soda. So that throws things off. If EVERYONE got one buffet and one soda, then it should all be even. Or if no one got a soda. You understand me. I know you do. But here's the part where I zag opposed to zig. Pizza Hut Buffet tabs are a lot like friendships. In a perfect friendship, your time and effort is always the same as the other persons. And no one pays more of the tip than anyone else. It's all fair, even and perfect. But navigating the red and white checked tablecloth minefields at Pizza Hut is difficult enough, how can one expect friendships to be any easier? And if it's naive to think Pizza Hut will work out smoothly, it's naive x 47 to think that friendships won't frequently have push when you want pull and give when you're expecting take.
And yet, while I realize this (I just wrote it didn't I?), sometimes it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. I unfairly set a bar FAR too high for my friends and family to ever meet. I set my personal bar even higher. It's in these last few months that I've learned I either need to start lowering these many bars or I'm going to lose my mind and eat glass with the hobos down by the river. Which wouldn't be so bad if I didn't live in an area known for it's Hobo Player Haters. Or something. [ <----- See? There I go again!]
This last weekend marked the 4th anniversary of Stuff & Things. As I write entries this week I will end them all with several looks back to the rarified chunks of protoplasm that has been my keyboarded cortex over the last four years. Enjoy the look back. I know I did when I was coming across a lot of memories I had stored away for the winter(s).
ZQF on . . .
~ ’03 Red Sox ~
What do I even say? This series with the hated A's (I still hate them from '90, and never learned to forgive Canseco - even when he played for us) has been one of the kookiest, wackiest, head slappingest, bizzaro baseball series I've ever had the fortune of witnessing. Whether it was rules dredged up not seen since the days of Ruth and No, No, Nanette (rule 706 B is it?) involving obstruction, runners just deciding to STOP running, automatic doubles, slumps that molt into game winning homers, tape on the back of your jacket, cowboy hats, crazy haircuts, handlebars, V-Tek and Trot "You'll still have me to kick around" Nixon, Mr. Mia Hamm, Pedro's heroics, David "You wouldn't like me when I'm bigger than you" Ortiz, the President of the Springsteen Fan Club, Manny Manny Coco Pop, and of course, my boy Johnny Damon. Oh Johnny. So scary. So so scary. Seriously. I just knew he was dead. I knew that me doing something - like not drinking enough, or wearing my glasses wrong, or not having enough fingers crossed, or not smearing a sufficient amount of lamb's blood on the doorway caused Johnny's injury. Apparently, in Rand McNallyland Damien Jackson runs backwards and hamburgers eat people. Blech. Oh well, at least Johnny isn't dead dead. Now, as our good pal Justin would say, ON TO THE ORPHAN RAPERS!!! (a.k.a. - The Yankees)
Taken from For The Love Of Johnny Damon - COWBOY UP! on 10/06/03
Ok - so anyway. I have had it up to here, no - HERE, with this "to leave a call back number, press 5" bullshit. What the fuck does that even MEAN?!? I don't know what cell phone carrier does this, but whichever one it is, 75% of my "friends" have it. #1 - Your phone is already going to show that you've missed my call, and with it - my number. #2 - And I can only assume that a "call back number" is the same as "my number". And if there's something that I really desperately need to talk to you about, I'm PROBABLY JUST GOING TO LEAVE A VOICEMAIL MESSAGE. The only merit I see in "pressing 5" and leaving a fucking "call back number" would be if I could leave a fradulent # on Rick's (or some such easy mark's) phone that would result in them accidentally calling Bonnie Ashworth. Or someone else of equal or more comedic value. (But I mean, come on? More comedic value than that??) All that said, I'll still take that insipid "to leave a fuckback fucker, press fuck" nonsense over the shit I get when my parents are out of range on their cell phones. Unlike NORMAL phones, which just go to voicemail if they aren't in reception, my parent's phones (which I want to say are U.S. Cellular) always say, "Message M.A.N. - The customer you are trying to reach is out of service." What? Hello? Did that automated fucker just call me MessageMan? I know they spell out M-A-N, but what does that stand for? "Machines Are Nothing But Cock Eating Fuckwads?" Ok, so I added too many letters. Whatever.
Taken from To Leave A Call Back Number, Press "Bite Me" on 07/16/04
~ Spam and National Monuments ~
So we finally got to the Spam Museum in Austin, Minnesota yesterday around 1:30. I tried to call Fred, Monique, and Brad to gloat at all the spamminess I was enjoying but all three of them super suck and weren’t home. (We just drove under a natural rock bridge and I think Ben pissed himself). The Spam Museum was everything I hoped for and more – believe the hype!! Ben, Tim, and I could not possibly know more about Spam at this point. I was even crowned Spam Exam champion in a game show we played. It was very cool. And we bought lots of Spam Merchandise. Spam shirts, Spam cups, Spam magnets, Spam pens, Spam beer coolers, and Spam tattoos. These are not a sampling of what they carried. That is a list of things we bought. We are such suckers. We are at the base of Mt. Rushmore now and so far so good, no fire blocking our path. We just passed an Alpine Slide that had a Dairy Queen. I started to cry. People, it doesn’t get any better than that. Oh sweet – I can see Mt. Rushmore now. Ok, now I can’t – trees. But what I saw was really fucking cool. It’s hard to think that it’s really that cool – like it’s just 4 Old Men in the Mountain right? If you can think it possible – it’s much cooler that the Old Man in the Mountain. Much. Ok – we’re parking. Later.
Taken from Shenani-goats! on 08/20/02
~ Breakfast and Bike Week Prep ~
Saturday morning saw Ben dragging Jimbo and I "down the street" to try this breakfast place he had heard of. Here's some friendly advice. If Ben Walden ever offers to take you "down the street" for ANYTHING - don't do it (and while you're at it, you might as well just RUN, and TELL someone you TRUST). We might have well just had breakfast at Barnacle Billy's. Since he drove us so far into MAINE that I could almost see Winslow ["Yo yo yo, old skool shout-out dawwwg! That Winslow shit is tight yo! Ok. Back to the lab. Please don't tell people how I live." - Fred] Breakfast (or should I call it lunch, since Fogerty's doesn't SERVE breakfast) was ok. Of course Ben had to order a Turkey Rueben because he had "never had one, and what a perfect opportunity to try one". That is so Ben. Jimbo and I took 3 points away from his total score for the Turkey Rueben. We also a saw a patio chair skid down the sidewalk due to the strong wind and rain while we were in Maine. It was EXTREMELY FUNNY at the time, and I cried and laughed and cried some more and even said at the time "That is *so* going in the journal". But it's pretty much one of those "had to be there" moments. Besides, "we also saw a patio chair skid down the sidewalk due to the strong wind and rain" kind of sums it up anyway. We returned to 1018 Lilac where Ben kept loudly asking if Jimbo and I had played his hockey game the night before and lost on purpose to screw up his season record. We insisted we didn't, that it was his drunk ass that did it. He didn't believe it. So Jimbo left for Concord and said he'd meet us in LA at KP's BBBQ(*). Ben, who had spent the last 8 months ranting how he wouldn't go to LA for any part of Bike Week until frogs could do fractions, decided to relent and go anyway, as the next day was Father's Day and he was going to have to go home the next day anyway. (Personally, I think it was because frog's really did learn fractions). Anyway, Ben and I eventually met Tim and Liz at the presently under construction Birchwood Way and then went over to Kristen's toot sweet for all the festivities (but not before a noxious visit to IGAFarmFareButsons).
Taken from From Lilac To Beech To Birchwood And Back! on 06/17/02
~ The Prospect of Parents finding out about Trip to Jail ~
So if I know LA, and I think I do, my little visit to the Big House will be buzzing in my parents ears in no time. And knowing The Citizen ("I wouldn't wrap day-old fish in that rag they call The Citizen" -R. Morten) it will be the fourth lead story right under "Gilford Boys Win Soccer Title!", "Fire in Barnstead!" and "You guessed it! Those pesky Ninjas are back on Governor's Island and they're looking for some Ninja-Style Revenge!" (A famous Laconian was once quoted as saying: "You provide me the pictures, I'll provide you the Ninjas.") I "fondly" look back at the time my compatriots and I were banned from Sunday River for a year and BY THE TIME WE GOT BACK TO SCHOOL people were asking me if it was true that we "robbed a convenience store of *all* their beer and tried to get away but got caught"? After a while I just started telling people that story was the truth, since it had a much better sense of danger associated with it that Cheese, Rasberry Sauce, Melted Butter, and Stolen Signs just couldn't hope to achieve. Yes, but back to my problissimo before I was so rudely interrupted by my own flight of fancy: I gots to tell my parents before they find out on their own. And knowing how many damn cops my mother knows in this state I wouldn't be shocked to find out if she has a copy of my mug shot on her right now. I already know what my father will say when I tell him. Either Option #1 - long pause, hands clasped behind back, looking out window to a past he can't quite remember and a future he can't quite see and says "Zach. I'm not mad. I'm just disappointed." That was a popular one in high school but my guess is, with his new devil-may-care attitude he will go for his new standby of Option #2 - clicks teeth in a borderline menacing manner, takes his reading glasses off (which he was using to read his two-day old Globe) and calmly, if not zingingly say "Well, that's what you get, isn't it?". Smart money on #2. Not to bore those of you still with me, but if I may take this opportunity to share what my father's most oft-heard quote in the Foote house was: (Zach has just said something rude, sarcastic, spiteful, ungrateful, etc.) Dad: "You know, one of these days you're gonna mouth off to the wrong person and they're just gonna haul off and whack you." Les Foote in "Fatherhood!: A Musical" Thank you Ladies and Gentleman, he'll be here all week!
Taken from Ninja-Style Revenge! on 04/22/02
So my father is absoultely up in arms (not "babe-in-arms") that those "damed people that call themselves Etheridge 'fans' and are part of her 'fan' club get the first 10 rows of her concerts reserved!". (read that with a special emphasis of derision on the word "fan") This pains me considerably. That these are the things that bounce around in my father's gum tree of a brain. So I said to him "Why don't you just get it over with and join the damn fan club?" To which he replied, "You think you're funny, don't you?" To which I replied, "Yes." So hopefully, with luck, my father will get backstage passes and all will be right with the world. . .
Taken from Jacuzzi Suit on 04/16/02
Did somebody say "Follow That Bird" at Circuit City for $6.99? They did. That person was me. And I love Follow That Bird so much that I pureed it up into a million liquified droplets and bathed in it, then drank it, then peed it out into a garden. Some call it "squicky" - I call it "dedication".
Taken from Homenaje A El Rey on 05/10/05
I just want to get home. My left wiper doesn't work and my right window is still broken and I need to get my oil changed. I'm not using my gas card out of anger. Well . . . I suppose you can't call it anger. Well, I suppose you can. I just want to get home. Or to a house. No - a home. Like a drug, the first time you drive the car on your own it's a powerful, even scary, high. Each time it lessens. Everyone's been driving longer than I have. But it's been more than a year, so while the high is still there, it's a very low-level buzz. It's pot out of an apple, not a pipe. Ha. Did I dream that? No - that was no dream. The seats spun around. Were there sparks? Of some kind? I don't care. I hate all this fucking snow. What's it good for if you don't ski? Ski anymore.
Taken from Move Along Now - Nothing More To See on 03/18/04
Well, I would like to mention that on the way home from work tonight I came upon an accident on the Spaulding Turnpike that had happend about 45 seconds before I got there. One car was cut almost in half. Teenagers were running around yelling but no one, miraculously, seemed seriously hurt. I had pulled over into the breakdown lane to see if anyone needed me to call someone. They said the cops had already been called. As another car pulled up to a stop behind me I heard the deafening sound of brakes screeching and then the sound of crushing metal barreling towards me. I freaked the fuck out. A truck, who hadn't been paying attention, had smashed into the car behind me. I thought that car would be pushed into mine. There was nothing I could do. There was nowhere to move to nor the time to think of something. I just instinctually gripped my steering wheel and held my breath. Nothing happened. A teenage girl came up to my window and asked if I was alright. I told her I was. She told me to be careful of all the debris in the road. I told her I would. Then the cops and the fire trucks and ambulances showed up. I drove away slowly as I turned the volume back up in my car. Jim Morrison told me that she was a "Twentieth Century Fox." As I took Exit 8E I thought to myself, I'm not one for anniversaries. But then Luka told me, "Don't be sad. It's alright. It's a good memory."
Taken from I Threw A Dolphin In The Fire on 06/24/03
Poor Mello Yello. It's trying so hard to still be relevant in this post-9/11 society, but I don't think introducing their new "Mello Yello Melon" brand flavor is really an avenue they needed to explore. Good luck to you Mello, good luck. Hey, it can't be worse than Surge or Mist. I'm just glad Robert Urich isn't alive to see this new sordid chapter in the Soda Wars.
Taken from Jacuzzi Suit on 04/16/02
Little Rock, Arkansas (a.k.a. - Kenichi) has taken to thinking he's the Man of the House now that Ben has flown the coop and I would be lying if I didn't say I resented it. Why? WHY? Oh I don't know. The fact that a fantastically simple feline who has an auto-asphyxiation plastic bag fetish, doesn't know how to drink water using his MOUTH, and viciously hunts down blades of grass each morning thinks he is in CHARGE of me is slightly disconcerting. All that said, he has been on his best behavior for all the company lately. Last night's Lost/Alias Party #1 saw him showing off a bit, but that can be expected in an audience that consisted of Peter, Titie, Andrea, Hayley, Shannon and Ben Cole. You know Kenichi, he's such a starfucker.
Taken from Pam Minnick's Orchid Of Uncomfortableness on 05/19/05
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