Friday Ramble 04/11/2005

Hello paisans.

I would like to congratulate Hobbo for receiving the Good Citizen of the Year Award:

Me: Hey Hobbo, how was your Friday night?
Hobbo: Eish, it was big hey. Got so wrecked I couldn’t drive.
Me: How did you get home?
Hobbo: I…drove.

Glad to know you are out there keeping the roads safe for all of us, my guy.

Smythers told me an interesting story; he went to his girlfriend (The Impoverished Teacher to Be)’s house for dinner with the folks and all that good stuff. He was on top form: he arrived at the door with a huge bunch of flowers for her mother and a lovely ‘96 Cabernet-Sauvignon for her father. The evening was going a huge success; her mother cooked a magnificent meal and everyone was laughing and sharing in the wine. Smythers was on great form - charming is too weak a word for what he was; and Oscar Wilde himself would have been jealous of his wit. The fire began to burn low, and so her father went to throw on another log and while he was up he grabbed another bottle of wine. When he returned, he pulled up a seat next to young Smythers. - And described to him in great detail how he once castrated a ram. Subtle Mr. The Impoverished Teacher to Be’s dad, subtle.
I don’t blame him when you see the results of their bedroom antics…


How romantic. There is even a candle.

This last weekend, The Palms digs had a Halloween dinner. Shmoe’s girlfriend Mrs Shmoe is a pre-school teacher. So what were her kids doing the whole week? - making Halloween decorations for the dinner, of course. This week they will be making soccer kit for my team and next week I think they are doing the entire digs’ tax returns. For R30 Mrs. Shmoe will also rent them to you do sweep your chimneys, and she is open to negotiations for any job where small hands and bodies can be exploited as manual labour (except that Knaps, before you even ask).

The night itself was big. Big Korn Bites beeg. Another night spent destroying my tux. Will I ever learn? Will Black Eyed Peas ever be anything but a faux hot chick, a talented producer and two monkey-faced, skeletal tag-alongs?

I found this awesome music site www.pitchforkmedia.com . Their album reviews are crazy. Pseudo-intellectualism is cool. I looked up some of my favourite albums and seriously, all I recognized was the song titles. My absolute bestest best was this: "The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows" is trite enough for radio play, which is frustrating as it opens promisingly. Unfortunately, though, LIES overcome the band and the song mutates into an aberrant hybrid of Jimmy Eat World and The Used. This burn is thankfully extinguished in favor of a Smiths-y ballad, "The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot". "Jaws Theme Swimming" is cool and controlled enough to be crafty, but "Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis" is flat-out indulgent.

In the immortal word of Smythers, “mreh?” By the way LIES is identified earlier in the review as standing for Long Island Emo with Screams. Mreh? Knaps is over-indulgent, not exactly sure how a song can be. Maybe my puny little mind is too small to understand what this glorious academic is trying to invest in my meager understanding. I mean, come on, “trite”; now you are just making up words. Read a couple, they are funny.

The old man and I are going to a whisky tasting festival tonight. I’ve seen this movie before. It doesn’t have a happy ending.

Knappy[1] is so fat…
…the only thing that's attracted to it is gravity.…its graduation photo was an aerial.
…it auditioned for a part in Raiders of the Lost Ark got the part of the big Rolling Ball.
…small objects orbit it.
…when I tell it to haul ass, it’s gotta make two trips.
…its favourite food is seconds.…its belt size is ‘Equator’.

This is a list of words that Robert L. Ripley[2] compiled and reckoned that only 1 in 100 000 people can pronounce them all correctly. I would have included the list of correct pronunciations but it was a mission and, to be honest, I don’t even really understand how it works.
1. Data
2. Gratis
3. Culinary
4. Cocaine
5. Gondola
6. Version
7. Impious
8. Chic
9. Caribbean
10.Viking

The attachment included is an email I’ve got a couple of times so I’m sure most of you will have it; just included it because it’s still really bloody hilarious.
I think a rule 29 should be included though: Thou shalt have an irrational fear of tampons. We know they are a necessary piece of female attire, but they, along with the words ‘heavy flow’ are not to be spoken or discussed under any circumstances. Ever. No exceptions[3].
Amazing how men can generally deal with any amount of blood, so long as it is sports-injury related and there are other guys around[4], but the sight of that siff red dot that bounced across the TV screen in that ad still makes me queasy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Umthondo (he’s the translucent one):

He wasn’t always this ugly. You can read his story at http://philosophersoftheflux.blogspot.com/
[1] It actually whined about not cracking an honourable mention in the last couple of rambles, so this one is for you, son.
[2] The Ripley’s Believe It or Not chap.
[3] I suppose the statement of the rule would be an exception, so I guess this is a bit self-defeating, isn’t it?
[4] With the notable exception of Commie Bastard who once fainted because of a severe paper-cut. Sorry, Commie Bastard, but I hadn’t thought about that in years, and it was really funny.