Friday, September 07, 2007
"Hi, this is [insert name of friend or acquaintance]. I'm not here right now, but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as I return."
Then, more often than not, you hear a computerized female voice say something like:
"After the tone, please leave a message. When you are finished leaving your message, hang up."
I gotta ask, is there a soul on God's green earth that still needs INSTRUCTIONS on what to do after the beep? Is there anyone who, in the event that the beep occurred right after the message, lone and unexplained, would panic and scream, "someone help - I just heard a beep and I'm unsure of what to do next!"
Variations on this I find equally disturbing:
"...after leaving your message, hang up, or press one for more options,"
More options? Like what? Has anyone ever done this? I've never received a message that seems to have had "other options" invoked. If you pressed "1", would you hear:
"To have your message played with western background music, press 2. To cause the recipient's phone to emit a puff of smoke at this time, press 3. To give your message a distinctive latin flair, press 4. If you enjoy tacos, press 5. To do absolutely nothing and remain on your phone in silence indefinitely, press 6. To forward a copy of your message to Jenny, press 8675309. To hear this menu again, yell "give me the bonedaddy" as loud as you can, then stick your tongue out and drop your pants."
Monday, July 09, 2007
Statements such as "Body shots rock!" and "What panties?" received an alarmingly low number of 5s from the study's participants, with "I prefer opera" and "I have cats" scoring much higher.
"This is of course a dark and dangerous conclusion we've come to, and it does not signal well for the segment of the population that prefers to screw frequently and without significant 'investment'" said NICF president Larry Einhammer. "Trashy women constitute a significant portion of the natural resource upon which our members rely, and the study makes clear that their numbers are dwindling."
The NICF is pushing legislation that would limit spending on school reading programs and substance abuse awareness in public schools, in an effort to boost trashiness among females.
"Five years ago, you could walk into a club and find 10 or 15 trashy women on the dance floor before 10 p.m." says NICF member Rodney Poonmesser. "Now, you go in and end up buying a bunch of drinks just so you can spend hours talking about stupid stuff like politics or global warming - this is a serious problem!"
The study blames the drop on the rise of Hilary Clinton, and the fall of Paris Hilton, both of whose names end in "-ton".
"Girls who, in past years might have ended up trashy, look at Paris and decide they don't want to go to prison" said Einhammer. "Then they look at Hillary and say 'being President might be cool'. You do the math. It's a huge problem for this country."
Hilton and Clinton could not be reached for comment.
To compound the problem, Einhammer points out, both hotness and disposable income are at all time highs among women, owing to increased use of plastic surgery and more gender neutrality in the workplace.
Poonmesser lamented "Before, you had not-so-bright trashy chicks who needed money and would do anything. Now I get a bunch of chicks who have awesome racks and tight little booties, but they're all too smart to talk to me, and make 5 times what I make. It's a genuine American tragedy!"
Jorge Manuel Rivera de Villarosa, 39, was celebrating the victory of Mexico over Paraguay in the Copa America soccer match, when he was struck by a chicken that Mexican authorities estimate was traveling at approximately 355 miles per hour. Both de Villarosa and the flighty fowl were killed instantly. The avian projectile was apparently propelled by a makeshift cannon operated by a Paraguayan man as an act of retribution for the soccer match. The cannon was contructed on a rooftop near the Angel of Independence monument in Mexico City, where Villarosa, pictured here moments following his death, had been dancing with an unidentified poodle.
"It may have been a turkey - it's very difficult to tell since most of the bird vaporized on impact" said Mexico City detective Angel Cabrera de la Poontana. "Although if it was a turkey, it was a smallish one...or perhaps a fractional turkey...we haven't ruled out a partial projectile."
"I am deeply saddened that such fine poultry would be sacrificed in this way, especially in a nation where millions are starving - poodle can be tasty as well, when slow-roasted with chiles" commented Mexican president Felipe Calderon.
The poodle was miraculously unharmed.
Fearing that the poultry may have been of U.S. origin, and in an effort to avoid an international row, representatives of the U.S. FDA, CIA and Perdue Corporation were on hand.
"We at Perdue do not condone poultry-based weaponry - whether it's a cannon, a large slingshot made from surgical tubing, or home-made catapult...just for example" said Bernard Drumstatter, vice president of international incident management at Perdue.
"We recognize those things are funny as hell and great fodder for YouTube. Who doesn't like to see a chicken explode into a cloud of feathers and feet - still, it's frowned upon here at Perdue."
The CIA no significant comment, except to note that the chicken, in their view, may have been acting alone, and to assure Mexican authorities that there had been no US involvement in planning the attack.
Friday, June 22, 2007
"I am deeply touched and my breath is greatly freshened by this most stunning act of charity" commented Queen Noor following the Hollywood banquest for the ACC. "She had only been chewing it for 5 minutes or so - it still held much value."
King Abdullah II of Jordan was similarly pleased. "Are you kidding? She's totally frigging nuts, but still hot as hell. I thought they were going into some lesbian frenzy or something. I nearly unsheathed the royal saber, if you know what I mean."
Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, also on hand for the event, confirmed Abdullah's assertions. "Ms. Jolie is in fact hot, and a significant member of the group of fucking nuts people that do so much good for our fucking nuts city."
ACC representatives have not confirmed their plans for the gum, but did say they intended to approach Ms. Jolie, a long-time supporter of children's causes, with other ideas for charitable dontions. Those included a suckle on her zipple, a lock of armpit hair, and possibly snapshot of Ms. Jolie and her Academy Award nominated husband, Brad Pitt, doing the hibity-dibity.
Monday, April 02, 2007
Mirabelle walked through the French doors of the grand old plantation house, into the sultry evening heat, and saw John, gazing blankly and, it seemed to her, longingly out over the lawns and oaks, the slaves busily tending to the grounds.
He appeared lost in his thoughts, mint julep in hand, condensation rolling meandering down the silver cup like tears. It seemed to her as though his expression conveyed a deep, but long since muddled and hazy, desire for something that he hadn’t seen or had in a very long time. She approached him quietly. She could tell he felt her presence. He made no acknowledgment, but took another long pull on the silver straw, and gave forth a heavy sigh.
“Why John, such a sigh! Whatever could you be thinking of?” her soft, southern voice flowed into the evening air like molasses over a biscuit.
John stared into his cup, gently swirling the remains, contemplating the prospect of another, and answered her question:
[Author's note: It's going to take me a long time to write a book this way.]
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
She’s waylaid and wallowing in Vegas. Vodka-soaked and reeling, awash in the peccant propensities of the masses that crawl the town like rats in a Manhattan KFC. In the diaphanous haze of one too many vespertine martinis, she languidly contemplates the strangely compelling horror of another night, another Lucullan fete, another round of craps-table causerie with the cognoscenti of sleaze. Vegas; where a surfeit of cash and booze foments an evanescent illusion of sophistication, which in turn veneers a dearth of fecundity and a marmoreal cruelty that nurtures only the icky, supported entirely by con men and whores. Cheap cologne, the “duende” of another velveteen Lothario, leering at her from under a plateau of hair gel like Donald Trump at fake tits, she knew - Vegas is sweaty satin sheets tangled around a farrago of cigarette smoke, strippers, and Cialis.