Over in the UK, 31 July is National Orgasm Day. Here it is, and I celebrate, I suppose, in knowing how far I’ve come, erstwhile yet, realizing there is much to do about a broad. ~ anemi
“So Anemi, you’re so cheeky, do tell us your plans for NOD! Are you going to a party, the NOD parade, the Nodworks display, what?”
“Oh, I dunno. I haven’t a bean to wear, and BK is feeling a wee unmighty, so I may just lie low and pack it in with a mate or two, grill a tuber, and catch the festivities on the boobie.”
Do you ever wonder the origin of old sayings like “barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen?” I’m betting I solved this one:
“Sexual passion is the driving force in life in a partnership of equals. Men desire physical gratification; female fulfillment is enhanced by home and children. Out of that mix comes orgasm.”
Rev Herbert Gray, a founder of the Marriage Guidance Council, 1938
ANEMIC ROYALTY
“Want to learn more about rearing, a family, or STD’s? Keep it up with the unprotected sex. That’ll do it, heY!”
OK OK, I’ve decided to hold the first annual Anemic Royalty Cute Baby Contest, and after careful consideration, have narrowed it down to two:
It’s a toss between Michael Jackson holding his son, covered with a towel, from a third floor balcony at the Hotel Adlon in Berlin, November 19, 2002, or, Pope Benedict XVI riding shotgun in the “Holy Roller” at the World Youth Day shindig at Randwick horse racing track in Sydney, Australia earlier today. Hmm…
It seems like every time somebody comes along with “the next big thing,” I think…”junk,” and say so, and then they wind up making zillions of bucks. So, do yourself a favor, short my sentiments here, and go glam on to as much stock in this as you can squeeze into your IRA, mattress, whichever you have left.
In yet another attempt to stick it’s fingers in the money goo, Google not long ago teamed-up with fueling system supplier Gilbarto Veeder-Root to equip Internet-enabled gas pumps with the Applause Media System, featuring Google Maps. The setup is supposed to, among other things, allow lost motorists to find themselves, hungry road warriors to feed themselves (and save money doing it with printable coupons), and sleep depraved drivers to scroll around a local map in search for a cot, and free HBO.
What’s wrong with this picture? Well, the top one is just fine, with my edits. But the unedited version, just above, and this whole idea – here’s my take.
Firstly, with gas over $4.00/gallon, you’ve got more money than sense than to be driving, let alone plan a trip without knowing where the best gas prices can be found. OK, excuse – you were in a hurry when you left, and now the battery in your Blackberry is dead. What’s to stop you from pulling up to this web-pump and surfing over to GasBuddy just to make sure Omar inside there is not gouging you, when gas can be had at three-cents cheaper across the street? No foul here, I mean everybody will tell you there is no money to be made at gas pumps, they are merely loss-leaders to get you inside to buy a pack of “square-nabs,” that’s where the real money is.
I guess on a practical level, if your Blackberry truly is dead and you are wayward, this “innovation” could be a godsend. Getting lost out there is brutal. Nobody knows where they are. It’s like, they know they will not get, nor keep, a job at a gas/convenience store unless they act directionally challenged. It’s a rule, printed in the 7-11 employee handbook. It might even be an Arabian sub-terror plot to keep you lost to buy more of their gas.
Talk about frustration and possible road rage, ever get this – “Hmm, I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never heard of I-40, sorry. Bubba might know, but he’s on dinner break.” You get so upset, you wind up buying gas or “square-nabs” just to calm the nerves. Stupid? It works. They get the sale.
Another reason this thing is just plain dumb relates to patience, or our lack thereof. Waiting in line for anything just plain sucks. We are talking silent wishes for a drive-by shooting of the idiot in front of you with nothing better to do than Google for directions to the best route to discover the “World’s Largest Pecan.”
Maybe though, after a tough day on the thirsty trail, you decide to print out and use that gratuitous 5%-off coupon at the Motel 6, and kick back with the free in-room color TV. Maybe then you’ll have a greater grasp of the local 7:00 “action” news blurting, “Elderly couple flattened at local gas station, right after a word from our sponsor; Google.”
“Breaker-Breaker, good buddy. Howzit lookin’ over your donkey?”
Yeah, gas prices hurt. Check out these peeps fuming in line for the “crisis” at 81 cents/gallon. If you were rich, before you could even get to the “square-nabs,” you might have passed the time untangling the tape in your eight-track installed by your bro’inlaw, or rappin’ on the CB radio. “What’s a Blackberry, Internet…huh?” Some things are a bit better, I suppose.
One thing I sorta like about the gym I use, are the TV’s hanging above the cardio-tormentors, helpful in losing track of the monotony of losing what I’m there for. What’s bad though, is that all 300 sets are forever stuck on loser channels, like QVC, without a remote to be found, because anybody who flipped there in the first place is too embarrassed to “fess-up” to where they hid the control.
Today, I guess I scared the guy on the bike beside mine when I said, “Lord, take my eyes…I don’t need them anymore!” Yup, beyond belief, there it/they were, resplendent in colors and fabrics both unknown to nature – “Member’s Only” jackets. Is this even possible that somebody is actually trying, and will likely succeed, in making a buck comeback off these things? Gah. The audio was down, and I was hoping what I was of witness was a PSA advising of high threat risk conditions including, le gasp, a redux of a low fashion spark of boys of the 1980′s.
Have you ever tried to scream and a yawn came out instead? Yeah, well, I did, and come on people, say no to this! Surely this is not what Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton mean when they say, “we want change!” Or, maybe it is, who knows, I usually turn the audio down on them too. I dunno, I just accept that when something, like, dies, it’s dead, and then the worms come and it’s over, right? Wrong, and not to be with “Member’s Only” jackets – they’re back, and with a big price tag – $1,000.00 at haute trendsters like Revolve Clothing in Cerritos, California (huh, where?, left on Rodeo, Tehran?). Yikes!
“It’s back, and this time it’s not just for the guys anymore. Members Only now offers new twists to the classic and a fit specifically tailored for the female form. Time to get that retro vibe back– tracing to the success of the jacket that defined outerwear in the 1980′s.” Reg. $990. ~ Revolve Clothing
If you don’t know anything about these bad, and badly made jackets, good for you, but maybe you came to appreciate their “totally tubular, gag me with a spoon” ad slogan, stolen in later years by some condom company; “when you put it on, something happens.” Sounds like something George Bush would say to Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad following a half-assed nuclear rant. Speaking of which, have you noticed, Mahmoud, the diminutive despot dons a “Member’s Only” jacket with great frequency? He loves the damn thing, and calls it a “Ahmadinejad Jacket.” Groovy. (I feel a big scream-yawn coming on).
Actually, though, I think Mahmoud is the perfect plate for this unfortunate fashion retro-faux-pas. People, third-world dictators are so eighties, and so deja-vu, ever since smart bombs hit Air Force wing tips. Seriously, the chode almost needs a booster seat, defying gravity at 5’4″ in height, and wear’s a “Member’s Only” jacket! No accounting for guts, I guess, but stick a 5:00 shadow on Carol and Mike’s domestic, and you’d swear Alice and Mahmoud were separated at birth. So very Brady, heY!
Anyhow, enough of this. “Rots-a-ruck” to some erstwhile rag merchant named Kirtie Regan, who managed to dig-up the dead for a license to re-issue, certainly not my father’s jacket. I had zippo interest in interviewing Kirtie for this rip-stopping piece, but you can do it by contacting (not kidding):
DWHAJ, KILOPATIE SINGH AKA KILOPATIE SINGH DWHAJ-REGAN AND MAUREEN REGAN, 24 Horatio Street, Apt. 3, New York, NEW YORK 10014.
Still think you want one? HA! Go re-watch the movie Shallow Hal and see Gwyneth Paltrow ask Jason Alexander if he’s the last member of the club when she sees him wearing a “Members Only” Jacket. Better yet, why not put one on – your revolving MasterCard, and watch what happens at 27.5% interest, compounded monthly. Now…the scream, it happened.
Please note. We don’t use foul language much here, but kinda feel like this silly story is an OK excuse, so, if the ‘S__it’ word offends you, well, we apologize, and just quit reading or hide the kidz and read on or mebe get over it, OK. ~ The ED
COME ON, HOW DO THEY KNOW THIS SHIT?
WASHINGTON — New evidence shows humans lived in North America more than 14,000 years ago, 1,000 years earlier than had previously been known.
Discovered in a cave in Oregon, fossil feces yielded DNA indicating these early residents were related to people living in Siberia and East Asia, according to a report in Thursday’s online edition of the journal Science. Lord only knows how they figured out these guys were Siberians and not tourists from neighboring Washington State.
Somebody who supposedly knows his shit said, “This is the first time we have been able to get dates that are undeniably human.” Lucky ducks. Shit. Lately, none of my dates have been human.
Few artifacts were found in the cave, like magazines or cigarette butts, leading the discoverers to speculate that these culprits stayed there only a few days before moving on, perhaps following game animals or looking for a Burger King or cleaner facilities.
The petrified poop — coprolites to scientists — crapola to you and me, is yielding a look at the diet of these ancient excreters.
While the analysis is not yet complete, they say it is composed of bones of squirrels, bison hair, fish scales, protein from birds and dogs and the remains of plants such as grass and sunflowers – Yum! Alright, with a diet like this, is speculation really required as to why these peeps moved on from a cave with no windows or exhaust fan? I mean, who hangs around after taking a shit, gah.
The journal went on to say scientists aren’t clear exactly who these people living in the Oregon caves were. Well, no shit. I mean, with no phone numbers or nudies etched on the walls, it could have been anybody, including some ancient Senator or whoever, heY!
Unbelievable. I want this job. Can I email my resume?
