I have got 60 jillion problems but only about 30 minutes before I have to jet off to bigger and better things (that's a lie - problem #1 - have developed a lying pathology). I wish I had the time to share them all with you, but I am meeting with Obama today to discuss campaign strategy (LIE!) before competing in the Olympic decathalon (LIE!). Thus, I will only devulge 5 of my 60 jillion problems to keep this post brief and, naturally, all about me. Only 5 of My 60 Jillion Problems Because I am Super Busy and Needed in the E.R. (LIE!):
1.) I am a pathological liar now (see above): New development. I can't seem to speak the truth. I feel like the opposite of Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar. Which does mean that I may actually be funny. Try as I may, I can't stop telling people things like, "Bankruptcy is a good thing."; "No, good parents can still smoke pot. In fact, it's better to the blow it in the kid's face at home so you know they aren't driving anywhere."; and "Of course I care about your feelings." Some may say it goes with my chosen career. I say, "Since when is a Hooters waitress also required to be a psychologist?" (Though many are in nursing school...) I need help.
2.) My hair is falling out at an alarming rate and I am seriously considering joining the Hair Club for Men: I have a lot of stress in my life right now - I mean a TON. I have to do things like pay bills, order my own food and actually pump my own gas. I never realized how hard it is to force the diesel pump into an unleaded tank. But I persevered in that endeavor, after only one hernia. All this stress has caused me to develop male patterned baldness. I even had a nightmare that I was beginning to resemble Prince William. On the bright side, if I join the Hair Club for Men, I may have the chance to meet my future ex-husband. He will at least sympathize with my plight and we can spend hours together lamenting the passing of our hairlines.
3.) I really want to scream out "Wipe that Face Off Your Head" at random people on the street: For some reason I have become a very angry, bitter person. Perhaps it is a direct result of my lactose intolerance. Ben and Jerry's is a woman's birthright - one which I am now denied. I am generally not a violent person. I haven't punched anyone in the throat in at least 3 weeks. But still, I have an insatiable urge to just scream at people, mostly geriatrics and small children. I should really look into meditation and/or illicit drug therapies.
4.) Too many other people have problems: This is a huge issue for me. When other people have problems, it diminishes the attention that I can get for my problems. I am sorry that your husband left you for another woman - I have a splinter in my butt. I am sorry that you lost your job and are now forced to work as a day laborer on a Lima Bean farm - I can't seem to get a direct line to Channing Tatum's cell phone. You see, I have much bigger, more impressive problems than most people. This means I need others to stop being so selfish about theirs and focus all their attention on mine. For shame people!
5.) I am too good looking: It's a fact I have had to deal with since I was, well, born. I have always been much better looking and overall more fabulous than anyone else I have ever met. I struggled with it in my youth - when everyone else was suffering through the ugly duckling stage, I never once batted one of my long, full, beautiful eyelashes. The problem has become more acute in my 30's as many of my contemporaries have aged less than gracefully. I truly believe there is a conspiracy against such ridiculously good looking people as myself. We are ostracized, chastised and scourned regularly. We cannot go one single day without someone making a comment to the effect of "What do you know about ugly. You have no idea what it is like to be common." Truth is, I don't. But I can imagine it isn't very nice. I just wish that sometimes people would look beyond my striking aesthetics and see the person I really am - A godlike creature with a heart of gold. No wait, that would be a heart of platinum.
I guess I shared 5 of my 60 jillion problems with you today to illustrate that I, too, am human. Despite what popular tabloids seem to claim. I hope this enables you to understand me a teensy bit better. If not, then whatever. I got 60 jillion problems and a biddy ain't one.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Welcome Back!
Hello and how are you! I have missed myself so much for the past - oh - too many months to count. I have been very busy and I have had lots and lots of changes in my life. We have a ton to discuss. I will share a few of my most important self and worldly realizations:
1.) I now hate the word Febreeze. What a stupid word. What does it mean??? I spray you and yet an hour later my clothing still smells like stale whiskey and cigarettes. And I don't even drink whiskey. You should be banned from the shelves of fine establishments such as Walmart and the Family Dollar. You'll get yours someday Febreeze...oh how you will get yours.
2.) I have developed a fear of tight-rope walking. Yes, it is true. I have a deadly fear of traversing the landscape with nothing keeping me from falling asunder other than a 1.5 inch thick rope. Thank you Modern Family for throwing that back in my face. I have thought about therapy but have chosen instead to self medicate with a mixture of beer, wine, and vodka. I only drink the vodka when the back flashes of lives I have never lived are exceptionally vibrant. Of course they never really are, but this is a super great excuse to drink and forget for one moment that Nancy Grace still exists.
3.) I have developed a 6th Sense and can now pick a winning scratcher 1 out of every 8 times. This is a very secret development as I fear that others may attempt to make me use my powers for evil instead of good. It is definitely a burden I never wished to undertake, nor thought I would ever undertake...Nonetheless, here it is and here I am too. I vow in this moment to not take advantage of the $1.00 and free tickets I will encounter 1/8 times I purchase a #22 from the local Hess Station on my way to work. Hear this Mexican Drug Cartels: I will not be used as a pawn in your sordid attempt at world domination and, this I know to be true, South of the Border will NEVER be better than Disney World. So stop filling the stomachs of innocent drug mules with your dirty cocaine and boot-legged Tequila. You will never get me lucky charms. And Trix will ALWAYS be for kids.
4.) I have decided that I will never get married. I am sorry to break the hearts of millions of young bachelors and single-agains, but I am not the marrying type. I refuse to waste the rest of my youth spending my evenings discussing our budget and losing my identity in 2.5 children whose lives are destined to become as mundane as my own. No dear friends, I choose to adopt 100 thousand cats and wind up on an episode of animal hoarders, that is if I don't wind up the subject matter of an episode of Intervention first (for my addiction to doilies and soft, luxurious throw blankets that are on sale at Bed Bath and Beyond ). But don't cry for me Eastern North Carolina, I feel liberated! So much so that I intend to go outside and burn the training bra I have owned and proudly worn since age 12.
5.) The last little tid bit of my life I will share with you cyber world and cyber friends: I have come to the conclusion that cows are the illegitimate offspring of Dr. Oz and Oprah Winfrey. It makes perfect sense. What has a big mouth, invades the earth with enough methane gas to run a small country for at least 3 months and weighs more than a small tank? OPRAH! What eats grass, makes loud, incoherent noises and is so regular you can set your watch by it?? DR. OZ!! Put them together and you get a species of the bovine variety! I have done it friends. I have found the missing link and the missing link resides on the Oprah Winfrey Network. I can't believe I haven't discovered this sooner. I feel like I am losing my edge in my old age. Hopefully I will get it back soon because 30 IS the new 20 and men like older women now thanks to Ashton Kutcher and the Biebs. (Still NOT getting married though. Unless it's to Harry Potter. But he has to wear the glasses or it's over.)
Well, now that you have been invited to share in the ponderings of the Pokey once again, I hope you feel more intuned with my reality and yours. Until we meet again - or until I have the energy to type more than the 400 characters that make up a facebook post - hasta la vista, baby.
1.) I now hate the word Febreeze. What a stupid word. What does it mean??? I spray you and yet an hour later my clothing still smells like stale whiskey and cigarettes. And I don't even drink whiskey. You should be banned from the shelves of fine establishments such as Walmart and the Family Dollar. You'll get yours someday Febreeze...oh how you will get yours.
2.) I have developed a fear of tight-rope walking. Yes, it is true. I have a deadly fear of traversing the landscape with nothing keeping me from falling asunder other than a 1.5 inch thick rope. Thank you Modern Family for throwing that back in my face. I have thought about therapy but have chosen instead to self medicate with a mixture of beer, wine, and vodka. I only drink the vodka when the back flashes of lives I have never lived are exceptionally vibrant. Of course they never really are, but this is a super great excuse to drink and forget for one moment that Nancy Grace still exists.
3.) I have developed a 6th Sense and can now pick a winning scratcher 1 out of every 8 times. This is a very secret development as I fear that others may attempt to make me use my powers for evil instead of good. It is definitely a burden I never wished to undertake, nor thought I would ever undertake...Nonetheless, here it is and here I am too. I vow in this moment to not take advantage of the $1.00 and free tickets I will encounter 1/8 times I purchase a #22 from the local Hess Station on my way to work. Hear this Mexican Drug Cartels: I will not be used as a pawn in your sordid attempt at world domination and, this I know to be true, South of the Border will NEVER be better than Disney World. So stop filling the stomachs of innocent drug mules with your dirty cocaine and boot-legged Tequila. You will never get me lucky charms. And Trix will ALWAYS be for kids.
4.) I have decided that I will never get married. I am sorry to break the hearts of millions of young bachelors and single-agains, but I am not the marrying type. I refuse to waste the rest of my youth spending my evenings discussing our budget and losing my identity in 2.5 children whose lives are destined to become as mundane as my own. No dear friends, I choose to adopt 100 thousand cats and wind up on an episode of animal hoarders, that is if I don't wind up the subject matter of an episode of Intervention first (for my addiction to doilies and soft, luxurious throw blankets that are on sale at Bed Bath and Beyond ). But don't cry for me Eastern North Carolina, I feel liberated! So much so that I intend to go outside and burn the training bra I have owned and proudly worn since age 12.
5.) The last little tid bit of my life I will share with you cyber world and cyber friends: I have come to the conclusion that cows are the illegitimate offspring of Dr. Oz and Oprah Winfrey. It makes perfect sense. What has a big mouth, invades the earth with enough methane gas to run a small country for at least 3 months and weighs more than a small tank? OPRAH! What eats grass, makes loud, incoherent noises and is so regular you can set your watch by it?? DR. OZ!! Put them together and you get a species of the bovine variety! I have done it friends. I have found the missing link and the missing link resides on the Oprah Winfrey Network. I can't believe I haven't discovered this sooner. I feel like I am losing my edge in my old age. Hopefully I will get it back soon because 30 IS the new 20 and men like older women now thanks to Ashton Kutcher and the Biebs. (Still NOT getting married though. Unless it's to Harry Potter. But he has to wear the glasses or it's over.)
Well, now that you have been invited to share in the ponderings of the Pokey once again, I hope you feel more intuned with my reality and yours. Until we meet again - or until I have the energy to type more than the 400 characters that make up a facebook post - hasta la vista, baby.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Fan Mail: Martha Stewart
Dear Martha:
I am so sorry that some horrific accident or past trauma as left you without a personality. That is so tragic. Of all the things to lose…a limb would have been more compassionate. I tried to watch your Thanksgiving special this morning, and found myself extremely thankful for the moment I changed the channel.
I thought prison would make you more charismatic – or at least more interesting. But no, there are no tear tats to talk about, no shank scar stories to tell, and no girlfriends named Bubba – at least none that you have disclosed.
I am in awe of how you have built an empire on teaching people how to make the kitschy knick knacks that usually end up on the 90% markdown shelf at gift stores throughout the country or as donations to local charities for the tax write off or – worse yet – as kindling for the insurance fire started to recoup the losses sustained attempting to build a sustainable business selling crap. And the people who receive it? One word: Regift.
I am really looking forward to watching you make snowmen out of marshmallows and the tears of small children at Christmas. Afterwards, I am going to drink myself into oblivion by consuming massive amounts of spoiled eggnog and spend the rest of the night singing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” while dancing around the tree in my underwear and a Santa hat. I will need some method of forgetting the last hour and a half of my life that I’ll never get back.
I honestly don’t understand how a person who basically lives her creative outlet 24/7 can develop such a horrible reputation for being the world’s biggest biddy. I thought that outlets were important for maintaining emotional balance in life. And the stuff you do is even more important for helping housewives alleviate hours of boredom so that they don’t eventually go bat crazy from spending their days cooking, cleaning and chauffeuring and eat their own children.
Yet one of life’s anomalies for Pokey to ponder…
Happy Thanksgiving, you boring, bitch of a woman. I am sure you will be the one with the last laugh, as you stuff the Turkey’s butt with a mixture of cranberry stuffing and hatred.
-Pokey
I am so sorry that some horrific accident or past trauma as left you without a personality. That is so tragic. Of all the things to lose…a limb would have been more compassionate. I tried to watch your Thanksgiving special this morning, and found myself extremely thankful for the moment I changed the channel.
I thought prison would make you more charismatic – or at least more interesting. But no, there are no tear tats to talk about, no shank scar stories to tell, and no girlfriends named Bubba – at least none that you have disclosed.
I am in awe of how you have built an empire on teaching people how to make the kitschy knick knacks that usually end up on the 90% markdown shelf at gift stores throughout the country or as donations to local charities for the tax write off or – worse yet – as kindling for the insurance fire started to recoup the losses sustained attempting to build a sustainable business selling crap. And the people who receive it? One word: Regift.
I am really looking forward to watching you make snowmen out of marshmallows and the tears of small children at Christmas. Afterwards, I am going to drink myself into oblivion by consuming massive amounts of spoiled eggnog and spend the rest of the night singing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” while dancing around the tree in my underwear and a Santa hat. I will need some method of forgetting the last hour and a half of my life that I’ll never get back.
I honestly don’t understand how a person who basically lives her creative outlet 24/7 can develop such a horrible reputation for being the world’s biggest biddy. I thought that outlets were important for maintaining emotional balance in life. And the stuff you do is even more important for helping housewives alleviate hours of boredom so that they don’t eventually go bat crazy from spending their days cooking, cleaning and chauffeuring and eat their own children.
Yet one of life’s anomalies for Pokey to ponder…
Happy Thanksgiving, you boring, bitch of a woman. I am sure you will be the one with the last laugh, as you stuff the Turkey’s butt with a mixture of cranberry stuffing and hatred.
-Pokey
Friday, November 12, 2010
Random: ??????????????????????
Dear Blog,
It has been awhile. I know I have neglected you. I told you I was going out for milk and would be back soon...that was 3 weeks ago. I can only imagine what you have told your shrink. Can't be good.
The truth is, I have been working. Yes, unimaginable - me actually earning dough. It has been rough. And I think I actually miss unemployment. I have also neglected Oprah and the rest of the daytime television lineup.
But here I am, just a girl, standing here, asking you to love me. Knock, knock - who's there? Friendship. Won't you let me in? No, not unless you have pizza. And not any of that Digiorno crap..."tastes like delivery" just like my farts smell like gum drops.
So the manager at the nameless fatory of drudgery came to my desk all in a huff. And he asked me about a letter I'd issued that day - one of the 89 gajillion so of course I had no idea what he was talking about. Anyhoo, he gave me this spiel about how I shouldn't issue a letter without his approval and blah blah blah and how I'd better run across the way to the other building and make sure that the mail clerks didn't send out the letter...Ummmmmmmm. Mr. Manager. First off, the task was sent to me to mail the letter. So if you want to publicize anyone's fail, blame the adjustor who sent the task in the first place. Second of all, until you decide to stop firing people right and left, leaving me (a TEMP) and one other girl to do the work of THREE full timers, then stop telling me I need to run ANYWHERE when the other girl is on lunch break and we need someone to man the phones unless YOU want to take new losses. Seriously. Stop wasting my time. I am far too intelligent and important to put up with this. You see the ESQ. behind my name??? Yes. That means you suck and I don't. Seriously...But that was what I should have said. What I said: I am so sorry. I will call the mailroom right away and remedy this situation. And that's just what I did.
And why??? Because Pokey is humble and I put my pants on the same way you do - one leg at a time, unless I put them on two legs at a time.
This rant is going nowhere. Someone get in their car and come pick me up. I want to go out. Cuz I gotta feelin that tonight's gonna be a good good night. Wooohooo.
Peace in the middle east. What what.
Pokey
It has been awhile. I know I have neglected you. I told you I was going out for milk and would be back soon...that was 3 weeks ago. I can only imagine what you have told your shrink. Can't be good.
The truth is, I have been working. Yes, unimaginable - me actually earning dough. It has been rough. And I think I actually miss unemployment. I have also neglected Oprah and the rest of the daytime television lineup.
But here I am, just a girl, standing here, asking you to love me. Knock, knock - who's there? Friendship. Won't you let me in? No, not unless you have pizza. And not any of that Digiorno crap..."tastes like delivery" just like my farts smell like gum drops.
So the manager at the nameless fatory of drudgery came to my desk all in a huff. And he asked me about a letter I'd issued that day - one of the 89 gajillion so of course I had no idea what he was talking about. Anyhoo, he gave me this spiel about how I shouldn't issue a letter without his approval and blah blah blah and how I'd better run across the way to the other building and make sure that the mail clerks didn't send out the letter...Ummmmmmmm. Mr. Manager. First off, the task was sent to me to mail the letter. So if you want to publicize anyone's fail, blame the adjustor who sent the task in the first place. Second of all, until you decide to stop firing people right and left, leaving me (a TEMP) and one other girl to do the work of THREE full timers, then stop telling me I need to run ANYWHERE when the other girl is on lunch break and we need someone to man the phones unless YOU want to take new losses. Seriously. Stop wasting my time. I am far too intelligent and important to put up with this. You see the ESQ. behind my name??? Yes. That means you suck and I don't. Seriously...But that was what I should have said. What I said: I am so sorry. I will call the mailroom right away and remedy this situation. And that's just what I did.
And why??? Because Pokey is humble and I put my pants on the same way you do - one leg at a time, unless I put them on two legs at a time.
This rant is going nowhere. Someone get in their car and come pick me up. I want to go out. Cuz I gotta feelin that tonight's gonna be a good good night. Wooohooo.
Peace in the middle east. What what.
Pokey
Monday, October 18, 2010
A Rant: 10 Things I Hate About the Movie 10 Things I Hate About You
1.) The title is misleading. I did some research and found the poem read by Julia Stiles to Heath Ledger’s (RIP) character online and, it turns out, there aren’t 10, but 13 ways she hates him. The entire movie was a lie. I feel so dirty.
2.) Julia Stiles. If I could take your face and shove it into a waffle iron, I would. But somebody obviously beat me to it.
3.) Alex Mack. Alex Mack, your attempt to cross over from Nickelodeon to the mainstream failed. You were horrible without super powers and completely unbelievable as a normal teen.
4.) References to Sarah Lawrence. Apparently, all intelligent, conformity despising females are required to read Sylvia Platt, listen to indie rock, attend all-girls liberal arts colleges and be named Kat. Otherwise you can’t be “alternative.” Whatever happened to getting tattoos and smoking illegal narcotics? Seriously, Miss Stereotype: Take your Bronte sisters, your Dickinsons and your Sedgwicks and shove em up your derrière. I much prefer Sophie Kinsella and Helen Fielding.
5.) How dare they adapt a William Shakespeare classic in such an impertinent manner. If ol’ Billy Boy were here, I am sure he’d have something to say about this, like, “This sucketh mightily. Could I loatheth Julia Stiles more? I thinketh not!”
6.) Andrew Keegan, you are not and have never been good looking. Please stop trying so hard.
7.) I could think of a million better things to do with the 1 hour and 41 minutes that it takes to get through this audacious slap in the face to teen classics. Like a get Brazilian wax, have my left ear cut off and sent to a person of Picasso’s choosing, eat a worm, move to China, take part in a raw sheep’s liver eating contest, or spend time having coffee and chatting about life with Nancy Grace…
8.) And the whole prom scene…seriously. Could you get more cliché? I am sorry, but the prom never turns out like that. Most people go home, with broken nails and torn panty hose, hating themselves for spending too much money on an outfit they will never wear again and wishing they could have those 5 hours of their lives back that they spent prepping themselves for nothing. And the girls aren’t happy either.
9.) Julia Stiles. Can I please get some intonation? Your voice is as flat as your chest, for Greg Brady’s sake! If I was your director, I’d have someone slip a mild stimulant into your fake beer at the party scene…then maybe your intoxication would have seemed slightly more realistic. No wait…if I’d been the director, I wouldn’t have allowed you on set in the first place. My bad. And you call yourself an actress. For shame!
10.) And the 10th thing I hate about the movie 10 Things I Hate About You: It came out 11 years ago – which means I am old. Officially. And you are too, because you remember it as well as I do. It used to be so popular…just like we used to be young. I hate being reminded.
-Pokey
2.) Julia Stiles. If I could take your face and shove it into a waffle iron, I would. But somebody obviously beat me to it.
3.) Alex Mack. Alex Mack, your attempt to cross over from Nickelodeon to the mainstream failed. You were horrible without super powers and completely unbelievable as a normal teen.
4.) References to Sarah Lawrence. Apparently, all intelligent, conformity despising females are required to read Sylvia Platt, listen to indie rock, attend all-girls liberal arts colleges and be named Kat. Otherwise you can’t be “alternative.” Whatever happened to getting tattoos and smoking illegal narcotics? Seriously, Miss Stereotype: Take your Bronte sisters, your Dickinsons and your Sedgwicks and shove em up your derrière. I much prefer Sophie Kinsella and Helen Fielding.
5.) How dare they adapt a William Shakespeare classic in such an impertinent manner. If ol’ Billy Boy were here, I am sure he’d have something to say about this, like, “This sucketh mightily. Could I loatheth Julia Stiles more? I thinketh not!”
6.) Andrew Keegan, you are not and have never been good looking. Please stop trying so hard.
7.) I could think of a million better things to do with the 1 hour and 41 minutes that it takes to get through this audacious slap in the face to teen classics. Like a get Brazilian wax, have my left ear cut off and sent to a person of Picasso’s choosing, eat a worm, move to China, take part in a raw sheep’s liver eating contest, or spend time having coffee and chatting about life with Nancy Grace…
8.) And the whole prom scene…seriously. Could you get more cliché? I am sorry, but the prom never turns out like that. Most people go home, with broken nails and torn panty hose, hating themselves for spending too much money on an outfit they will never wear again and wishing they could have those 5 hours of their lives back that they spent prepping themselves for nothing. And the girls aren’t happy either.
9.) Julia Stiles. Can I please get some intonation? Your voice is as flat as your chest, for Greg Brady’s sake! If I was your director, I’d have someone slip a mild stimulant into your fake beer at the party scene…then maybe your intoxication would have seemed slightly more realistic. No wait…if I’d been the director, I wouldn’t have allowed you on set in the first place. My bad. And you call yourself an actress. For shame!
10.) And the 10th thing I hate about the movie 10 Things I Hate About You: It came out 11 years ago – which means I am old. Officially. And you are too, because you remember it as well as I do. It used to be so popular…just like we used to be young. I hate being reminded.
-Pokey
Friday, October 15, 2010
The 5 Products I Should Have Mass-Produced But Didn’t Because I am Lazy and There Was Too Much To Watch On TV Between 1995 and 2010.
I should have, but didn't. *Sigh* I could be rich by now.
1.) Sounds of the Ghetto: Available in CD, MP3 and Eight Track formats, this product will provide the comforting sounds of home for those who cannot be there.
Commercial:
You have heard of Sounds of the Seasons? How About Sounds of the Rainforest? Well, now, even our urban listeners will be able to fall asleep listening to the comfortable sounds of home be they in a foreign country, the suburbs or prison!! Yes, with Sounds of the Ghetto on your CD player tonight, you will drift off to dreamland with the warmth and comfort that only the sounds of big bass, rap music, 22-inch rims, police sirens and drive-bys can bring! So order today for the low, low, low price of $19.99 and we will throw in our other top sellers: Sounds of Afghanistan and Sounds of the Morgue for only $9.99 each! That’s cheaper than an ounce of the good stuff, a hocked Tommy Gun, or a black-market baby! (All orders subject to substitution at our discretion and if you are not home at delivery, your house will be robbed.)
2.) Baby “Oops I Did it Again!”: A baby doll for girls 10 and under and dirty old men that provides hours of realistic pooping with just one bottle of the Baby Oops I did it Again! Top-performance Doodie Maker (sold separately).
Commercial:
This Baby looks like Britney Spears, but smells like Danny Bonaduce after a night of boozing it up! Hours of fun for every girl who’s ever dreamed of being a mommy, LiLo’s personal assistant, or a CNA in a nursing home!! It’s Baby Oops I Did it Again!
Oh Baby Oops I Did it Again!
You pooped in your pants!
It smells like decay.
Oh Baby, baby.
Cleaning up is so fun,
What you shoot from your buuuuuuuuuuuum.
You Are Incontinent!
3.) The Weight Tazer: A wristband that detects the presence of fattening foods and electrically shocks the person wearing it when they come within 2 inches of such harbingers of obesity.
Commercial:
Can’t handle temptation? Tired of those annoying other ads that utilize B-List Celebrity spokespeople whose 15-minutes ended 15 years ago and then require you buy their tasteless food? No time for the gym, but tired of being a 2-ton heifer in a Kate Moss world? Well, look no further. Purchase the Weight Tazer and enjoy your life to the fullest like all the other skinnier and therefore more attractive and happier people!
Every time you reach for the Double Stufs or the Big Macs, you will get a shock of electricity that will render you completely unconscious and unable to remember your own name! By the time you wake up, you won’t feel hungry at all! As an added benefit, you will more than likely also lose control of your bodily functions, alleviating the need to purchase expensive at-home enemas and colon cleansers! The weight will fall off!
So purchase the Weight Tazer for the low price of $9.99 and taze those calories away!
(Warning: Could cause death, herpes, color-blindness or lead to the development of turrets, seizures, and naked visions of Dennis Hopper. Not available in Canada, Mexico or South Central L.A.)
4.) High School Drop-out Musical: A riveting musical based upon the lives of a group of High School Drop-outs! Teach your children that education isn’t everything
Commercial:
Iiiiiiiiit’s High School Drop-out Musical!! A movie the whole family can enjoy, starring Paris Hilton as Spacey, the late 20-something former head cheerleader raising her two illegitimate kids on a stripper’s salary; Zac Efron as Billy Bob, a gruff, yet lovable 16 year-old who left school freshman year to pursue his dreams of becoming a famous Rodeo Cowboy; Joe Jonas as Bobby Feelgood, a young Richard Branson-esque mini-mogul with a radio label and airline to his name at age 19; and Luke Perry, for no other reason than every good High School flick needs Luke Perry (playing an 18 year old cocaine addicted sanitation worker).
Your children will love the dancing, the excitement and learning about the amazing lives they could lead if they give up on the unrealistic belief that they will actually graduate from college and drop-out of high school!
Learn the words and sing along with the cast to such new classics as:
- “I’m down to My Last Dime and My Baby’s Gotta Eat – Calling on the WIC”
- “Let’s File for Unemployment Again!”
- “Tomorrow, Tomorrow, The Rent’s Due, Tomorrow”
- “Seasons of Ketchup”
- “Mothers Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Doctors”
A movie your whole family will enjoy and one that you cannot live without. With more and more teens dropping out of high school each and every day, why not show them how great their lives will be! Buy High School Drop-out Musical today for your high school drop-outs of tomorrow at the economical price of $19.99! (Economical means cheap.)
5.) Bernie Madoff’s Guide To Investing: An instructional guide to getting the most out of embezzled money.
Commercial:
Have you had it up to your armpits working 40 + hours a week for a salary that would make an indentured servant want to hand you a donation? Tired of actually having to get dressed to go work because your boss cancelled Naked Casual Fridays, calling it a liability? Want to know how to get back your life and secure your financial future? Read Bernie Madoff’s Guide to Investing and start controlling your own destiny today!
Don’t worry about not having your own money to invest – the beauty of Madoff’s system is that you will make millions using other’s people’s hard earned cash! In his long-awaited book,* Bernie Madoff tells you exactly how to develop your pitch to potential investors, how to transfer their money to your personal off-shore banking accounts, and how not to get caught! It’s almost too good to be true and 100% based on his own experiences as the now most hated man in America!
What are you waiting for? Get out there and sooner than you think, you too can be enjoying the fruits of embezzlement without the worry of 25 years to life! Even your children will benefit from this book by reading the chapter entitled: Lunch Money: Change You Can Believe In. Your whole family can’t lose!
Buy it for yourself, or your loved ones for Christmas or Hanukah and you will be the hit of Holidays! Plus, order now, and you will receive two amazing free gifts: Bernie’s second book, “A White Collar Prison Survival Guide,” plus, a plush Bernie Madoff stuffed toy. A $1.25 value for FREE!!
(All proceeds go to the Bernie Madoff Legal Defense Fund.)
* Publication was delayed due to the fact that the author was only given pencil and paper to write with while in prison and thus, all pages had to be transcribed at a later date
1.) Sounds of the Ghetto: Available in CD, MP3 and Eight Track formats, this product will provide the comforting sounds of home for those who cannot be there.
Commercial:
You have heard of Sounds of the Seasons? How About Sounds of the Rainforest? Well, now, even our urban listeners will be able to fall asleep listening to the comfortable sounds of home be they in a foreign country, the suburbs or prison!! Yes, with Sounds of the Ghetto on your CD player tonight, you will drift off to dreamland with the warmth and comfort that only the sounds of big bass, rap music, 22-inch rims, police sirens and drive-bys can bring! So order today for the low, low, low price of $19.99 and we will throw in our other top sellers: Sounds of Afghanistan and Sounds of the Morgue for only $9.99 each! That’s cheaper than an ounce of the good stuff, a hocked Tommy Gun, or a black-market baby! (All orders subject to substitution at our discretion and if you are not home at delivery, your house will be robbed.)
2.) Baby “Oops I Did it Again!”: A baby doll for girls 10 and under and dirty old men that provides hours of realistic pooping with just one bottle of the Baby Oops I did it Again! Top-performance Doodie Maker (sold separately).
Commercial:
This Baby looks like Britney Spears, but smells like Danny Bonaduce after a night of boozing it up! Hours of fun for every girl who’s ever dreamed of being a mommy, LiLo’s personal assistant, or a CNA in a nursing home!! It’s Baby Oops I Did it Again!
Oh Baby Oops I Did it Again!
You pooped in your pants!
It smells like decay.
Oh Baby, baby.
Cleaning up is so fun,
What you shoot from your buuuuuuuuuuuum.
You Are Incontinent!
3.) The Weight Tazer: A wristband that detects the presence of fattening foods and electrically shocks the person wearing it when they come within 2 inches of such harbingers of obesity.
Commercial:
Can’t handle temptation? Tired of those annoying other ads that utilize B-List Celebrity spokespeople whose 15-minutes ended 15 years ago and then require you buy their tasteless food? No time for the gym, but tired of being a 2-ton heifer in a Kate Moss world? Well, look no further. Purchase the Weight Tazer and enjoy your life to the fullest like all the other skinnier and therefore more attractive and happier people!
Every time you reach for the Double Stufs or the Big Macs, you will get a shock of electricity that will render you completely unconscious and unable to remember your own name! By the time you wake up, you won’t feel hungry at all! As an added benefit, you will more than likely also lose control of your bodily functions, alleviating the need to purchase expensive at-home enemas and colon cleansers! The weight will fall off!
So purchase the Weight Tazer for the low price of $9.99 and taze those calories away!
(Warning: Could cause death, herpes, color-blindness or lead to the development of turrets, seizures, and naked visions of Dennis Hopper. Not available in Canada, Mexico or South Central L.A.)
4.) High School Drop-out Musical: A riveting musical based upon the lives of a group of High School Drop-outs! Teach your children that education isn’t everything
Commercial:
Iiiiiiiiit’s High School Drop-out Musical!! A movie the whole family can enjoy, starring Paris Hilton as Spacey, the late 20-something former head cheerleader raising her two illegitimate kids on a stripper’s salary; Zac Efron as Billy Bob, a gruff, yet lovable 16 year-old who left school freshman year to pursue his dreams of becoming a famous Rodeo Cowboy; Joe Jonas as Bobby Feelgood, a young Richard Branson-esque mini-mogul with a radio label and airline to his name at age 19; and Luke Perry, for no other reason than every good High School flick needs Luke Perry (playing an 18 year old cocaine addicted sanitation worker).
Your children will love the dancing, the excitement and learning about the amazing lives they could lead if they give up on the unrealistic belief that they will actually graduate from college and drop-out of high school!
Learn the words and sing along with the cast to such new classics as:
- “I’m down to My Last Dime and My Baby’s Gotta Eat – Calling on the WIC”
- “Let’s File for Unemployment Again!”
- “Tomorrow, Tomorrow, The Rent’s Due, Tomorrow”
- “Seasons of Ketchup”
- “Mothers Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Doctors”
A movie your whole family will enjoy and one that you cannot live without. With more and more teens dropping out of high school each and every day, why not show them how great their lives will be! Buy High School Drop-out Musical today for your high school drop-outs of tomorrow at the economical price of $19.99! (Economical means cheap.)
5.) Bernie Madoff’s Guide To Investing: An instructional guide to getting the most out of embezzled money.
Commercial:
Have you had it up to your armpits working 40 + hours a week for a salary that would make an indentured servant want to hand you a donation? Tired of actually having to get dressed to go work because your boss cancelled Naked Casual Fridays, calling it a liability? Want to know how to get back your life and secure your financial future? Read Bernie Madoff’s Guide to Investing and start controlling your own destiny today!
Don’t worry about not having your own money to invest – the beauty of Madoff’s system is that you will make millions using other’s people’s hard earned cash! In his long-awaited book,* Bernie Madoff tells you exactly how to develop your pitch to potential investors, how to transfer their money to your personal off-shore banking accounts, and how not to get caught! It’s almost too good to be true and 100% based on his own experiences as the now most hated man in America!
What are you waiting for? Get out there and sooner than you think, you too can be enjoying the fruits of embezzlement without the worry of 25 years to life! Even your children will benefit from this book by reading the chapter entitled: Lunch Money: Change You Can Believe In. Your whole family can’t lose!
Buy it for yourself, or your loved ones for Christmas or Hanukah and you will be the hit of Holidays! Plus, order now, and you will receive two amazing free gifts: Bernie’s second book, “A White Collar Prison Survival Guide,” plus, a plush Bernie Madoff stuffed toy. A $1.25 value for FREE!!
(All proceeds go to the Bernie Madoff Legal Defense Fund.)
* Publication was delayed due to the fact that the author was only given pencil and paper to write with while in prison and thus, all pages had to be transcribed at a later date
A History of Myself, By Me, Part 4: How I invented the internet
By now you know a lot about me: Who my real parents are, my adoption by Brangelina and subsequent return, my love of wine and hatred of Speidi and how I established democracy. But there are still some very important things you need to know. I also invented the Internet and came up with the name Titicaca. You are welcome.
They say a man by the name of J.C.R. Licklider came up with the Internet concept in the 1960's, calling it the Galactic Network, but I don't believe it. If that really were true, you think this urban legend would be about someone with a less ridiculous name than Licklider...please.
It was the summer of 1982 and I was not quite one year old. Back then, times were tougher than they are now and children had to grow up a lot faster.
Having already left school to pursue my goal of become a top baby model, I was playing with a telephone one morning in our super swanky suite at the Four Seasons awaiting the time to leave for my Gerber shoot. I would pick up the receiver and then put it down and then tap my fingers on the buttons. Yes, I had advanced dexterity for such a youngin. All of the sudden, it occurred to me that there should be a web of interconnected computers to allow for the free flow of ideas, almost simultaneous exchange of information the world over and easy access to concert tickets!
So I called my friend Radia Perlman and we, together, came up with the spanning tree algorithm to allow efficient bridging between separate networks. Obviously, without this innovation, the Internet would not be feasible. Then it was only a matter of applying Bob Kahn and Vint Cerf's Transmission Control Protocol and we were up and running.
Of course, I didn't get any notoriety for this because I couldn't let anyone know that I was a baby. They wouldn't have taken me seriously, even though by then I could have drunk anyone of them under the table without a hangover the next day and given anyone of them a verbal lashing the likes of which are unknown to English speakers with their measly 5-8 thousand word vocabularies. So, I muffled my voice with a handkerchief and went by the pseudonym William Henry Gates, III.
To settle another matter: Al Gore totally didn't invent the Internet. He didn't have time between being a 2-Term Number Two and inventing Global Warming. Plus, nobody this boring could possibly come up with something this exciting and useful. Bite me Al Gore. You can have your Go Green Campaign. I got the Google. Oh, and I totally threw a plastic bottle in the regular trash yesterday for spite. So there.
As far as the name Titicaca is concerned, let's just say I once met a cow in South America with a severe lactation anomaly...
-Pokey
They say a man by the name of J.C.R. Licklider came up with the Internet concept in the 1960's, calling it the Galactic Network, but I don't believe it. If that really were true, you think this urban legend would be about someone with a less ridiculous name than Licklider...please.
It was the summer of 1982 and I was not quite one year old. Back then, times were tougher than they are now and children had to grow up a lot faster.
Having already left school to pursue my goal of become a top baby model, I was playing with a telephone one morning in our super swanky suite at the Four Seasons awaiting the time to leave for my Gerber shoot. I would pick up the receiver and then put it down and then tap my fingers on the buttons. Yes, I had advanced dexterity for such a youngin. All of the sudden, it occurred to me that there should be a web of interconnected computers to allow for the free flow of ideas, almost simultaneous exchange of information the world over and easy access to concert tickets!
So I called my friend Radia Perlman and we, together, came up with the spanning tree algorithm to allow efficient bridging between separate networks. Obviously, without this innovation, the Internet would not be feasible. Then it was only a matter of applying Bob Kahn and Vint Cerf's Transmission Control Protocol and we were up and running.
Of course, I didn't get any notoriety for this because I couldn't let anyone know that I was a baby. They wouldn't have taken me seriously, even though by then I could have drunk anyone of them under the table without a hangover the next day and given anyone of them a verbal lashing the likes of which are unknown to English speakers with their measly 5-8 thousand word vocabularies. So, I muffled my voice with a handkerchief and went by the pseudonym William Henry Gates, III.
To settle another matter: Al Gore totally didn't invent the Internet. He didn't have time between being a 2-Term Number Two and inventing Global Warming. Plus, nobody this boring could possibly come up with something this exciting and useful. Bite me Al Gore. You can have your Go Green Campaign. I got the Google. Oh, and I totally threw a plastic bottle in the regular trash yesterday for spite. So there.
As far as the name Titicaca is concerned, let's just say I once met a cow in South America with a severe lactation anomaly...
-Pokey
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