Category Archives: Ramblings

I’m sorry. We’ve lost him.

Ryan Reynolds is officially dead to me. He went and married that flabby, white, giant hoo-hoo girl this weekend.

I’m moving him to my Backup Boyfriend Boneyard, where he shall be buried along with Tim Matheson (he got old), Brad Pitt (he is a cheater), Shawn Cassidy (I grew up and realized he’s a dork), that dude I saw in a black shirt one time (he went into a store I don’t like), and the rest. I guess I have to move the Maroon Five guy and Jason Stratham up on the list. I might give Matt Damon a move up as well if he does another Bourne movie and wears a paper sack over his melon, since I only want to date his arms & shoulders.

I have no comment to share on this news and must retreat to my ice cream for the afternoon.


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That’s right. Hands off my man!

Scarlett Johannsson in no rush to wed Ryan Reynolds

August 12, 2008 07:44 AM / BANG Showbiz

The ‘Vicky Cristina Barcelona’ actress, who announced her engagement to the Canadian star in May, insists she is happy being “young and engaged” for now.

She told US TV talk show host Jay Leno: “We’re just enjoying our time. We are just recently – very recently – engaged. So we are just taking it easy. And there is no big plan yet.

“I mean, I’m 23. There is no reason to rush into it. Everything feels very natural and relaxed.”

Last week, Scarlett revealed she was considering paying homage to Ryan’s home country by wearing a beaver crown when they tie the knot.

When she was asked if she would consider wearing the unique headgear, Scarlett replied: “OK, that’s creepy – an animal on my head. If it’s alive, maybe. Um, I guess so. I don’t know! I’ll take it!”

Scarlett and Ryan have been dating for more than a year.

What in the blazing hell is “Vicky Cristina Barcelona”? Is that a “Dora the Explorer” character?

Ah, who cares? The important part is that the big hoo-hoo girl is trying to wage a pre-emptive strike before Ry lowers the boom on her and kicks her pasty arse to the curb. He clearly cannot compromise and settle for a chick who probably does her best acting in Woody Allen’s handy-dreams. No, Ry can’t help what he feels for me and probably told her so, which is why she’s blathering this nonsense to The Chin.

Ok, Ryan, I’ll let you be my back-up boyfriend again. Just don’t go wearing things like this ever again if you want to stay in my good graces. You’ve been warned.


“Beaver crown”. That’s just way too easy of a joke….

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Where’s Di?

Yeah, yeah…. I know. I have been MIA again. Since I like having nice things, like food, I have been giving my paycheck-payers a little higher priority than my non-paying internet dickery.

I’m writing this to you from the Amersterdam Airport, waiting for the world’s biggest friggin plane to load. Good lord. How is that thing going to get off the ground? I’d feel safer flying on a terodactyl’s back, Flintstones style.

Well, assuming they can get this heap in the air, I will be back to share my usual nonsense soon. Until then, amuse yourself by reading the phone book or something.

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80s flashback moment of the day

Banana clips: good for clipping your hair into a tacky over-sprayed mane and for solving blindness in the future.

Best when worn with cheap stretch pants in an unnatural color, as well as with a cheap stretch space uniform also in an unnatural color.

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New York man accused of hiding in woman’s couch

Fri Jun 20, 7:00 PM ET

Police say a New York man cut a hole in a woman’s couch and hid in the carved-out space until she came home. Newburgh police said the woman sat on the couch Wednesday evening and felt a bump in the cushions move.

She jumped up and David Joe Limones emerged from his hiding place, knocking a cell phone out of her hand.

The woman was on the phone with a friend when she entered her apartment because she had filed an earlier complaint against Limones and was worried he might be there. Police said she had asked the friend to stay on the line and call police if something went wrong.

When officers arrived, they found Limones and the 22-year-old woman arguing on the apartment’s balcony.

Limones, 27, faces burglary and other charges. He is being held on $20,000 bail.

County officials, including those at the public defenders office and the sheriff’s department, were unable to provide the name of Limones’ lawyer. (Source)

Holy Jennifer Convertibles, Batman! That is some crizazy-ass stuff right there! It reminds me of that old “why don’t you check on the children?” urban legend we used to scare the bejeebus out of little kids with back in the day; the killer is inside the house with you just lying in wait. If that happened in a bad horror movie, I would likely be the one nutjob in the theater to yell, “Run, girrl! He in the sofa!”

This whole hiding in plain site thing seems to be a bit of a trend these days. Remember the creepy middle-aged Japanese lady living inside the guy’s closet? (Truth be told, that closet cubby was probably bigger than most Tokyo studio apartments.) She was in there for months just scratching around and being generally creepy before the home-owner discovered her.

It’s even happened to a family in Snyder County, PA who found Christina May Nipple hiding in their closet. How many people would be shocked to come home and finding a hidden Nipple? I know if I had a hidden Nipple in my closet, I would freak the hell out. I mean, who’s going to care for that Nipple? And what would the neighbors say if they knew you had a Nipple just hanging around the house causing mischief? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, secret Nipples always cause big problems.

I once hid in my grandma’s hall closet because I was sneaking in at 5AM when I was supposed to be home at 11pm. I didn’t expect her to be awake, so I hid in the closet and waited for my chance to sneak upstairs. Word of advice to you kids out there: never jump out of a closet with an unsuspecting 80-year-old woman sitting close by. Those nitro pills for heart attacks ain’t cheap.

However, if you’re so inclined to hide in your furniture or closet and surprise your friends, grandparents, and/or victims, there’s a company that specializes in building furniture with hidden compartments. False Bottoms Productions makes customized wood furnishings that include “a ‘just the right size’ hiding place where it will best serve your needs.” Whatever that means. They don’t look big enough to accomodate an adult. I think they’re made more for people like Adam Sandler’s character in “The Hot Chick”: it’s where you put your weed. If you have the cash, maybe the company can whip you up a customized Japanese condo for your living room. You know, for those times when Grandma is planning to swing by for a visit.

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Where the hell have I been?

Jesu Cristo, I am worn out! The last two weeks have been murder. Or maybe it’s just that I feel murderous.

This is the high season for those of us in the consumer antivirus world. Most vendors hit the shelves with new products in the early fall (August, September), but the majority of the strategic decisions & marketing efforts happen in the late spring through early summer. Which means I am, to quote Mr. Higgins (Peter Jennings’ coverage of OJ’s standoff), “all deep up in this.”

Today is another one of those days. My creative juices are pretty damn dried up. What few are still swooshing around belong to determining product box creatives, copy text, and other related silliness intended to make you all run to the store with your wallets opened. In addition to the usual round of work today and conference calls very late this evening, we also have a friend visiting with us from Southern Cal for a day or so. While I love guests, I fear that my ability to entertain will not exactly be up to Martha Stewart level. No crown roast with the little paper leg hats tonight. He’ll have to make do with a HungryMan and a can of Coors.

Luckily, my better half (aka Mr. DT) and I did manage to sneak away for three days this weekend, in spite of the insanity, for a romantic little side-trip to Las Vegas. We had such a great time and enjoyed such wonderful v.i.p. treatment that I pretty much forgot all my work woes (ok. I will admit that I checked the Blackberry a few times). The folks at Paris really spoiled us rotten with all sorts of treats (rose petals, champagne & strawberries, yummy dinner, romantic tower tour, breakfast in bed, …) & made us feel like high rollers (though I don’t think we actually even gambled in their casino). We’ll definitely be back to visit them again. Heck, I may even drop a buck into a penny machine next time.

…but the weekend is over and I’m back to work. I’ve got all new pet peeves to share, as well as a new award category to bestow upon some lucky weiners winners, just as soon as I get through some more work ickiness. So come back and visit in a day or so. I promise I shall return!

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Ketchup makes people kill (and cruise for anonymous sex)

Which condiment you favor when you lather your hot dog — ketchup or mustard — reveals your politics, according to a noted political scientist.

“People who mostly or entirely use ketchup are much more likely to favor the invasion of Iraq than those who use mustard,” says Dr. Noah Frum, a senior fellow at the prestigious Institute for Political Advantage think tank.

“Red is an aggressive, war-like color, whereas yellow is much more passive and low-key, ” he says. Dr. Frum conducted his study when one of the political parties, looking for an advantage in the upcoming November elections, came to him looking for new ways to identify possible supporters.

“We’d done the usual ones — income, gender, education — so we decided to focus on food.”

Dr Frum gathered a number of subjects together, placed hot dogs and hamburgers in front of them, and gave them their choice of ketchup or mustard. Then he asked their opinions on a number of subjects, including the war in Iraq, terrorism and immigration.

“The ketchup eaters were much more likely to favor aggressive policies than the mustard-eaters,” he says. “Their food preferences weren’t the only thing that was ‘yellow’.” (source)

“The World’s Only Reliable Newspaper”, the Weekly World News, recently revealed this landmark research finding. It all makes sense to me now. Ketchup = red = blood = agression = war = loss = sadness = loneliness = desparation = bathroom foot tapping. At least that’s how I read it, but I am a known sicko.

Given the topic, I thought I would re-publish one of my poetic masterpieces from 2007:

the tao of ketchup
The Master of all condiments
may be squeezed upon the fried potato
but never upon the baked.
One may pour it like the Yangtze along the valley of ground steak
but never upon the choice cut.
Its molten lava red is simple beauty when drizzled upon the scramble
but never upon the soft white of the hard boiled child of the fattened swallow.
It is vinegar.
It is love fruit.
It is sugar.
It is high fructose corn syrup and unpronounceable preservatives.
it is one of fifty-seven varieties.

Reprints only by permission (meaning, send me some dough). I’ll just sit here by my mailbox waiting for my millions to come in.


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