PULL MY FINGER LAKES
The missus and I are traveling to Rochester, NY this weekend to attend my niece's college graduation. One of my brothers and two of my sisters will be there, and I can't decide whether to make cheeky references to Jack Benny's chauffeur or Jane Eyre's employer-turned-lover to show how witty and sophisticated I am.
Ah fuck it. I'll just tell a few fart jokes. That usually works.
Thursday, May 15, 2003
TUBE STEAK BOOGIE
Below is the text of an ad (as far as I can remember it) that runs at least three times per game on every Phillies radio broadcast:
MAN: Come on, throw it in there!
(crowd cheering, Announcer voice-over for Hatfield Phillies Franks)
MAN: Put some mustard on it, will ya?
(more cheering, more Announcer voice-over)
MAN: What a dog!
WOMAN: Knock it off, Fred! The neighbors will call the police...again.
PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! Three times per game times 162 games, that's 486 times total. You figure I listen to parts of 50 games on the radio every year, so that's 150 times this year I might end up hearing this putrescent ode to processed pork with distinct overtones of domestic violence. I'll pay good money if you can make it stop. I'm not joking. E-mail me today.
Below is the text of an ad (as far as I can remember it) that runs at least three times per game on every Phillies radio broadcast:
MAN: Come on, throw it in there!
(crowd cheering, Announcer voice-over for Hatfield Phillies Franks)
MAN: Put some mustard on it, will ya?
(more cheering, more Announcer voice-over)
MAN: What a dog!
WOMAN: Knock it off, Fred! The neighbors will call the police...again.
PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP! Three times per game times 162 games, that's 486 times total. You figure I listen to parts of 50 games on the radio every year, so that's 150 times this year I might end up hearing this putrescent ode to processed pork with distinct overtones of domestic violence. I'll pay good money if you can make it stop. I'm not joking. E-mail me today.
Wednesday, May 14, 2003
ALL THE NEWS THAT'S FIT TO MAKE UP
I knew the New York Times editorial integrity was slipping a bit, but today's issue is ridiculous.
Howell Raines, have you no shame?
I knew the New York Times editorial integrity was slipping a bit, but today's issue is ridiculous.
Howell Raines, have you no shame?
Tuesday, May 13, 2003
SCAM SPAM
From my inbox:
My Dear,
My name is Musa Ahrey the son of Dakoba Ahrey, I am still a student of University of Lagos, Please I want you to help me in doing one thing for me. My late father deposited the sum of U$20Million with a local bank here in Nigeria (GLOBAL BANK NIG PLC), my late father wanted to send the money to his friend in USA unlucky for him he died and right now I don't know my father's friend address. All I want you to do for me is to send your account where the money will be transferred as the owner of the money. My dear I have decided to share the money as follows 50% for me 40% to my business partner while 10% will be for you as my eyes over there.
Isn't that just a touching story? Poor kid. As it happens, my bank account is, uh, at the dry cleaners. So, come on TCP readership, let's help Musa out! Send me your bank account number, with the routing transit number, and I'll contact Musa and have him deposit the 20 Million smackers in there today. Pretty soon, you'll be pulling out of the Jaguar dealership with some new wheels after you get your share of the loot.
And that "My Dear" thing has absolutely nothing to do with that week I spent in Lagos when I was in college. Musa is just a friend, I swear.
From my inbox:
My Dear,
My name is Musa Ahrey the son of Dakoba Ahrey, I am still a student of University of Lagos, Please I want you to help me in doing one thing for me. My late father deposited the sum of U$20Million with a local bank here in Nigeria (GLOBAL BANK NIG PLC), my late father wanted to send the money to his friend in USA unlucky for him he died and right now I don't know my father's friend address. All I want you to do for me is to send your account where the money will be transferred as the owner of the money. My dear I have decided to share the money as follows 50% for me 40% to my business partner while 10% will be for you as my eyes over there.
Isn't that just a touching story? Poor kid. As it happens, my bank account is, uh, at the dry cleaners. So, come on TCP readership, let's help Musa out! Send me your bank account number, with the routing transit number, and I'll contact Musa and have him deposit the 20 Million smackers in there today. Pretty soon, you'll be pulling out of the Jaguar dealership with some new wheels after you get your share of the loot.
And that "My Dear" thing has absolutely nothing to do with that week I spent in Lagos when I was in college. Musa is just a friend, I swear.
DIRTY BLOG
When I heard about this, I thought I'd follow suit.
THIS IS A DRILL! THIS IS ONLY A DRILL!
If this had been an actual blog entry, it might have been somewhat funny, and you might have been directed to link to it. Please ignore it as you normally would, and continue searching for information on the CROSSBOW HOME GYM or the BOWFLEX HOME GYM or KAREN GRASSLE NUDE or whatever.
Thank you for your cooperation, from the Department of Blogland Security.
When I heard about this, I thought I'd follow suit.
If this had been an actual blog entry, it might have been somewhat funny, and you might have been directed to link to it. Please ignore it as you normally would, and continue searching for information on the CROSSBOW HOME GYM or the BOWFLEX HOME GYM or KAREN GRASSLE NUDE or whatever.
Thank you for your cooperation, from the Department of Blogland Security.
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