Noteable Notes of Noteworthiness. NOTES!

You know when you drink too much beer when you start pouring other beverages at an angle into the glass to “reduce foam.”

The Snuggie rivals the Tiddy Bear as greatest invention of the 21st century.

Does anyone watch The Price Is Right now that Drew Carey is the host? I know I sure don’t. Losing Bob Barker is like the Day The Music Died for gameshows. What next? Is Alex Trebec going to shave his mousta–oh, crap….

I wish Coke and Pepsi would join forces and create a super cola that is capable of curing cancer and creating world peace.

I’m scared of the ocean. I’m convinced that a giant squid is going to come up out of the depths of Poseidon’s realm and eat me. Plus, I watched “The Little Mermaid” way too many times as a youngster and if Ursala the Sea Witch is real, I don’t want to be alive.

While I despise Ernest Hemmingway and think he’s a terrible writer, what I wouldn’t give to live my life as he did: drinking and writing. Curse you, Hemmingway!

I am still not over the fact that Pluto is no longer a planet. Did astronomers ever take Pluto’s feelings into account? No. They didn’t. Well, how about this: I declare Saturn a trollop. See? Not so very nice, is it?

I have three copies of Dante’s Inferno and haven’t finished any of them.

I wish Phil Hartman was still alive because I don’t like the guy who attempts to do the voice of Troy McClure on the Simpsons. Close, but no cigar.

Water chestnuts are foul little things and do not belong in my food. I don’t care they have no flavor and add a delightful crunch. It reminds me of eating toenails and I can’t get behind that.

William Shatner is being kept alive by pure willpower and toupee glue.

If you remove the sword tattoo from UFC fighter Brock Lesnar’s chest, you will become the new king of Camelot.

National Public Radio is the best thing about the radio these days. No, really….it is.

If you want to destroy my sweater, wash it in warm water and place it in the dryer.

In the words of the incomparable Mitch Hedberg: This shirt is dry clean only which means it’s dirty.

John Mayer is right: my body is a wonderland. It’s just closed for the season.

And finally….

“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone but they’ve always worked for me.”
— Hunter S. Thompson

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2 thoughts on “Noteable Notes of Noteworthiness. NOTES!

  1. With no great pride I admit that I have been avoiding work today, which is only your problem because I trolled FictioNaut, found your essay about the lawn gnomes, I think, and hunted down your blog for purely escapist reasons. And there I found these random notes, enough of which resonated for me that I spent some quality time responding to them. With the infinite generosity of the internet, I hereby subject you to them with apologies and a cringing realization that I really ought to get some work done now. You’re welcome, I’m sorry, and Shall I pack that for you to go?

    You know when you drink too much beer when you start pouring other beverages at an angle into the glass to “reduce foam.”
    * You say it as if foam reduction was a bad thing. All activities must be undertaken obliquely to minimize the risk of surfacted bubblage. I’ve faced too many foam-related tragedies to taunt fate like that.

    The Snuggie rivals the Tiddy Bear as greatest invention of the 21st century.
    * It’s still early in the century. Someday they’ll come up with a fuzzy, adorable way to minimize Male Crotchseam Trauma. I mean, fuzzy, adorable, and not in violation of morals codes. Sort of like me, but in nard-saving form.

    Does anyone watch The Price Is Right now that Drew Carey is the host? I know I sure don’t. Losing Bob Barker is like the Day The Music Died for gameshows. What next? Is Alex Trebec going to shave his mousta–oh, crap….
    * I will tune in again when Drew Carey is host of Shave That Scraggly Crap Off Your Lip. And don’t tell me there’s no ready-made market for 30 minutes of that once a week.

    I wish Coke and Pepsi would join forces and create a super cola that is capable of curing cancer and creating world peace.
    * Sadly it would have to be made with Mexi-Coke and Mexi-Pepsi (Moke and Mepsi) to avoid the metastisizing bellicosity of hyfrukoz karnsyrp, and therefore probably wouldn’t be allowed over our cancerous, war-infested borders. Serves us right.

    I’m scared of the ocean. I’m convinced that a giant squid is going to come up out of the depths of Poseidon’s realm and eat me. Plus, I watched “The Little Mermaid” way too many times as a youngster and if Ursala the Sea Witch is real, I don’t want to be alive.
    * The second sentence is so Freudian that I’m too overwrought to respond to it. The third sentence makes me think that the name “Ursula” has gotten short shrift. I remember her as one of the hipshaking redheads from the old George of the Jungle cartoons and she sometimes still comes back to me in humid inappropriate dreams. O theres’ that squid again.

    While I despise Ernest Hemmingway and think he’s a terrible writer, what I wouldn’t give to live my life as he did: drinking and writing. Curse you, Hemmingway!
    * You left off “killing animals” and “shotgunning off the back of his own head.” Could I just go with “less nerdy Stephen King” or “Studly Rushdie”?

    I am still not over the fact that Pluto is no longer a planet. Did astronomers ever take Pluto’s feelings into account? No. They didn’t. Well, how about this: I declare Saturn a trollop. See? Not so very nice, is it?
    * Pluto was never really a planet; we just called it one. The real question, it seems, is whether we would rather have an illusory reality that is pleasing to us, or the blandness of factual accuracy? Or perhaps, which would Pluto prefer – to be known as the lifeless lump it truly is, or to be gloriously misunderstood? These questions are difficult because, as we all know, Pluto is in fact an animated dog deprived of the facility of speech. Mickey is a star; Pluto is not even a planet. Fame waxes mickle fickle.

    I have three copies of Dante’s Inferno and haven’t finished any of them.
    * This is in fact the 6-2/3rdths hell, the hell of writers who need to read the books they always avoided, where they stumble under the weight of seminal texts, bent double by intellectual inertia.

    I wish Phil Hartman was still alive because I don’t like the guy who attempts to do the voice of Troy McClure on the Simpsons. Close, but no cigar.
    * I bet that News Radio would still be on the air, too. And probably he’d have a macho voice throw-down with Patrick Warburton. It’s no joke. I miss Phil too, and thanks for helping me remember that. I also missed Brock but it seems they brought him back!

    Water chestnuts are foul little things and do not belong in my food. I don’t care they have no flavor and add a delightful crunch. It reminds me of eating toenails and I can’t get behind that.
    * You are eating them out of a can. Stop immediately. Fresh ones are really sublime, though they’re hard to peel – you need a paring knife. There is almost no comparison to that canned crap. That said, toenails are too chewy to add much to most dishes.

    William Shatner is being kept alive by pure willpower and toupee glue.
    * I guess my take-away here is to rely on *pure* willpower. I’m using a blend of willpower and gumption, and there’s just not enough toupee glue to make up the difference.

    If you remove the sword tattoo from UFC fighter Brock Lesnar’s chest, you will become the new king of Camelot.
    * What will *he* become?

    National Public Radio is the best thing about the radio these days. No, really….it is.
    * It’s always my first pre-set. However, I just got a new radio and the best thing about it is that it resembles a lego block but is 10 times bigger. With a radio in it. Take that, Juan Williams-firing lefties!

    If you want to destroy my sweater, wash it in warm water and place it in the dryer.
    * Duly noted. For comparative purposes, if you want pants no longer to fit me properly, have me buy them and take them home. O that damned crotchseam again.

    In the words of the incomparable Mitch Hedberg: This shirt is dry clean only which means it’s dirty.
    * User tip: don’t take it out of the plastic bag from the cleaners and it will remain clean-looking for much longer, with the added benefits of rain-proofing and odor blockage.

    John Mayer is right: my body is a wonderland. It’s just closed for the season.
    * My body is sort of FrontierLand, or maybe Country Bear Jamboree Junction with a liquor license. For a while it was TomorrowLand but that actually wound up being sort of depressing. Even with the alcohol.

    And finally….
    “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone but they’ve always worked for me.”
    – Hunter S. Thompson
    * Sometimes we have to embrace what we hate. Hell, sometimes I nearly choke the life out of it but it still keeps coming back. I guess that’s what true love is all about.

    Well that was invigorating. Now back to digging myself a cozy cave in the wall of paperwork in which I labor. Have a delightful evening – I dare you.

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