We welcome your thoughts and cottage cheese...
July 1, 1999
Live your life free of guilt and obligations. Click on the "Goat of Your Transgressions"?
July 2, 1999
I found a web site the other day devoted to uncovering movie mistakes (I could put the URL here, but that's just what they'd want me to do). I was particularly intrigued with an entire paragraph devoted to the mistakes found in the movie "Cannonball Run". For those of you NOT familiar with the movie, thank your lucky stars. My questions is this....isn't that whole durn movie one giant mistake? Isn't critiquing a movie like this much like questioning the strategy of a professional wrestler? As for me, I'm just happy that I have my Salad Shooter.
July 3, 1999
The world of honey mustard sauces is a fascinating one, and, when viewed in the same proximity as a good helpin' of chicken strips, causes me to bubble over with unabashed emotion. This Fourth of July weekend, let us take a moment to remember the man who invented honey mustard sauce-- Leonard Frankenheimer, of Sioux Falls. Let us also take a moment to consider why I'm not wearing any pants.
July 4, 1999 -
Independence Day (USA)
Yes, it is Independence Day today! I attended our city's fine fireworks display this evening, right on the river. As I watched the bright lights, the loud music (nothing like those radio stations that play "synchronized music" during a fireworks display), I sat in awe, thinking about our great country, our rich heritage, and pondering the significance of beef vegetable soup (as well as its impact upon contemporary America). Then I got up and waited in line for over an hour for a funnel cake.
July 5, 1999
Here are two lessons I learned while watching fireworks last night: 1) Don't set up your fireworks viewing area (lawn chairs, blanket, tv, barbecue pit, etc.) behind a tall building. Sure, you get to hear the loud "splozhuns", but you really miss something when the visual element is lost. Frankly, I'm not even 100% sure that what we heard was fireworks as we were sitting in a pretty seedy part of the city. 2) Exploding, flame-emitting fireworks and parking lots full of cars rarely mix well. However, there's something downright patriotic about blowing up cars.
July 6, 1999
Ok kids, here's another business tip from your TDJ pals: when writing scathing e-mail messages on the company's intranet system, try to refrain from referring to the boss as, "the evil dark overlord lardbutt with his head up his keester". It only makes matters worse.
July 7, 1999
From the vaults of the late Paul Emery: I've finally perfected my latest invention: candy-coated wrappings for the dead. Loads of funeral fun!
July 8, 1999
Today's cooking tip: Next time you make cookies, replace the chocolate chips with dung beetles. Your kids will love the crunchy goodness and your body will appreciate the extra fiber!
July 9, 1999
I remember when I was a kid, going to my grandparents house and grandpa would sit very still in his recliner for hours at a time. We would gather around him, watching his breathing become more and more shallow, his eyes glazing over, a thin line of spittle gently spilling over the edge of his lip. I can't tell you the number of times we had him on the embalming table before he would speak up and attest to his consciousness. But can you really blame our eagerness? There ain't nothing like an old-fashioned family embalming party…
July 10, 1999
I probably would have been more popular in high school had I not let Aunt Bertha dress me.
July 11, 1999
A week ago, I acquired quite a sunburn from two days of A) lounging around the pool; and B) golfing. The long peels of my epidermis fraying off my shoulders got me thinking: shedding our outer layer can really be seen as a metaphor for how I like to peel the pods open any time I eat leguminous vegetables. Lima beans especially.
July 12, 1999 HEMET, Calif. -- After drinking heavily, a 33 yr. old man appointed his 12-year-old son as designated driver.
When police attempted to pull their pick-up truck over, the father instructed his son not to stop. Police followed the
vehicle for several blocks, with speeds not exceeding 15 mph. The "chase" ended in the driveway of the family's
home. The officers found a bag of methamphetamine in the man's pants. He quickly tried to defend himself by telling
police: "These are not my pants. They are my girlfriend's pants." The officers didn't buy his explanation. The police
report concluded that these pants were in fact men's pants. The father was arrested for investigation of public
intoxication, allowing an unlicenced juvenile to drive and possession of a controlled substance.* A true story! Go to http://www.navicom.com/~daleg/stupidcrooks.html
and do a search for "pants."
I've been listening to a rock opera entitled "These Are Not My Pants." Which is quite funny, because it reminded me of what happened when I was 12:
HEMET, Calif. -- After drinking heavily, a 33 yr. old man appointed his 12-year-old son as designated driver. When police attempted to pull their pick-up truck over, the father instructed his son not to stop. Police followed the vehicle for several blocks, with speeds not exceeding 15 mph. The "chase" ended in the driveway of the family's home. The officers found a bag of methamphetamine in the man's pants. He quickly tried to defend himself by telling police: "These are not my pants. They are my girlfriend's pants." The officers didn't buy his explanation. The police report concluded that these pants were in fact men's pants. The father was arrested for investigation of public intoxication, allowing an unlicenced juvenile to drive and possession of a controlled substance.*
A true story! Go to http://www.navicom.com/~daleg/stupidcrooks.html and do a search for "pants."
July 13, 1999
July 14, 1999
July 15, 1999
My desktop "American Heritage Dictionary" calendar tells me that the word of the day is "ravel," which means to "separate the fibers or threads of (cloth, for example); unravel." Ravel is also the name of a famous music composer of the Impressionist Era, although it is pronounced differently. He died in 1937. Incidentally, the word for tomorrow is "pumpernickel."
July 16, 1999
It's Friday. I just had a coworker stop by my office, see the TWO empty pop cans on my desk and warn me that I should throw those away before the weekend so that we don't get ants. Aside from the fact that my cubicle is in the middle of the third floor of a concrete building, I would have thought this employee would have been more concerned about the hazard presented by my extensive collection of severed heads.
July 17, 1999
In my world, every day is Accordion Day!
July 18, 1999
Word on the street is that Einstein spent the last few months of his life contemplating his various orifices.
July 19, 1999
You know it's going to be a good week when a coworker spontaneously combusts outside your office... and you have marshmallows!
July 20, 1999
July 21, 1999
Have I mentioned my toaster lately?
July 22, 1999
My fascination with wild turkeys began in high school, when I placed second in the Wild Turkey Tossing Competition at a local fair (called "Canal Days," although the "canal" in my hometown had run dry some 100 years prior). Many of my friends mention that this fascination may explain my strange fear of striped socks.
July 23, 1999
More than likely, you've found yourself in the spice isle of your local grocery store wondering exactly what the contents of "Crab Boil" is. For me, it was just yesterday, around three in the morning. I stood there for perhaps 15 minutes consuming five bottles until I realized that it was NOT, I repeat NOT, paprika. So, all is well with the world.
July 24, 1999
Tonight is the performance debut of Fluid Imbibers, of which only one of the two members will actually be performing. Rest assured, the theatrics will continue when the second Imbiber sues the first, resulting in a courtroom drama that will rival the O.J. Simpson thing. One of us will make milliions for sure!
July 25, 1999
Quick piece of trivia: 3.8 percent of the United States is officially designated as "wilderness." Although most experts agree that these numbers do not include my bathroom.
July 26, 1999
Through our cutting edge technology here at The Daily Journal, we have come to find that we have a pretty regular reader by the name of....you guessed it....Lloyd. Coincidence that all of our writers prefer to be called "Lloyd" while writing for TDJ and this fan happens to go by that same name? I think not. There's something pure and ssimple aabout the nname Lloyd. Oone of tthe ggreat mysteries ssurrounding tthe nname is the uuse of ttwo l's at tthe bbeginning of the nname. Mmost of yyou pprobably ddebate oover wwhich L is ssilent. Tthis is ttypical ffor those oof yyou tthat ddon't uunderstand tthat bboth L's are ssupposed tto bbe ppronounced aand iit iis tthe D that is silent. Furthermore, following the silent D is an unwritten "yak-yak-yak-yak" ssound. It's ssimple, rreally. Wwhen yoyu ssee tthe nname, "Lloyd", it sshould ssound ssomething llike "La-la-oh-ee-yak-yak-yak-yak". Yyour Lloyd ffriends wwill aappreciate yyour ssensitivity.
July 27, 1999
With as much marketing that fast-food places do with Steven Spielburg movies, I've been really surprised not to find Shindler's List toys in my Happy Meal.
July 28, 1999
My biggest problem with these stupid, no-good, lazy-butt, dimwitted kids these days is their lack of respect for other people!
July 29, 1999
I just noticed that my co-writers eagerly began August with the last three days of July 1999 occupied by "Pants." And so, I round out the month with entries that I had rejected for being inadequate... like the time all three of us got together and got buzzed on Berry Blue Kool-Aid and SuperCool and then there was this midget and a bag of Doritos and... well, I'd rather not talk about it but it IS available on home video!
July 30, 1999
The vending machine now has bags of chips that proclaim that they are "NATURALLY BAKED!" This is quite a relief for my co-workers and myself who never felt completely comfortable eating the old brand that had been baked in the warm, comforting glow of toxic waste.
July 31, 1999
And then there was my grandma, a salty old woman who could give any sailor a run for his money, sitting in her rocking chair by the fire, damning her socks.
Yes, there is a reason why these were rejected.