So Patrick Stewart went & got himself knighted...which is awesome. But you may not know there are perks that go along with the title. With a little digging & a heretofore unknown talent for hacking, I managed find a partial list of the benefits Sir Patrick will enjoy with this great honor...
#4 No longer has to flush the loo when visiting Buckingham Palace
#7 Can legally take possession of William Shatner's toupees
#9 Lays claim to official title of "Sir Patrick Stewart, Lord Locutus of Borg and Mack Daddy Daddy Mack of the British Empire Beyotches"
#13 Gets his own TARDIS
#17 May, without reprisal, take a Number Two on Number One anytime Jonathan Frakes is on British soil
#22 Gets Kate Winslet's home phone number
Congratulations Sir Patrick for a well deserved honor.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
And I Love Her....
I received and e-mail today from my Sainted Wife expressing concern that my profile on my blog didn't mention that I was married. More to the point, it kinda bugged her. I was taken a bit aback. Out of the approximately 10,ooo things I do every week (day) to bug her, this wasn't one that I was expecting. So, I came here to rectify the situation & lo and behold, there isn't a tab on the profiles to indicate marital status. So I thought this would be the next best thing...hopefully it is.
I met Deanna on the first day of class of our sophomore year in college. August 26, 1988 to be precise. Our professor was what you would call "goofy" and the second thing I noticed about her (besides the fact that I thought she was smoking hot) was that she was the only one besides me laughing at him. I thought, "Gorgeous, smart & a sense of humor. She could be the total package." So, mustering all my courage & charm, I asked her to go get lunch. After unsubtly finding out she was single, I weakly hinted that, if she didn't have any plans that night, that I was also free & that she should give me a call if she wanted to hang out. She did & we did & the rest is history.
I am and continue to be remarkably blessed by her. She puts up with my crap (and those of you who know me know that I generate roughly 25 metric tons of crap a day) with more grace & good humor than anyone I know (including me) would or should. She's been there for me through good times & bad and no matter how many reasons I gave her for not wanting to stick around, she still does.
She's got an abiding love & spirit for little kids, small animals & old people and is quite simply the best thing that's ever happened to me. On top of everything else, she manages to stay sane while being married to an improviser. Anyone who's ever been in any kind of relationship with someone who performs improv knows that this isn't always an easy task.
I've often said that people who get to know us like me, but love her. I'm not being self-deprecating here. She's easy to love & a much better person than I am, but I'm trying.
So, in conclusion, even though there's no spot to say it on my profile, sorry ladies I'm very much taken.
Love you lots.
Me
I met Deanna on the first day of class of our sophomore year in college. August 26, 1988 to be precise. Our professor was what you would call "goofy" and the second thing I noticed about her (besides the fact that I thought she was smoking hot) was that she was the only one besides me laughing at him. I thought, "Gorgeous, smart & a sense of humor. She could be the total package." So, mustering all my courage & charm, I asked her to go get lunch. After unsubtly finding out she was single, I weakly hinted that, if she didn't have any plans that night, that I was also free & that she should give me a call if she wanted to hang out. She did & we did & the rest is history.
I am and continue to be remarkably blessed by her. She puts up with my crap (and those of you who know me know that I generate roughly 25 metric tons of crap a day) with more grace & good humor than anyone I know (including me) would or should. She's been there for me through good times & bad and no matter how many reasons I gave her for not wanting to stick around, she still does.
She's got an abiding love & spirit for little kids, small animals & old people and is quite simply the best thing that's ever happened to me. On top of everything else, she manages to stay sane while being married to an improviser. Anyone who's ever been in any kind of relationship with someone who performs improv knows that this isn't always an easy task.
I've often said that people who get to know us like me, but love her. I'm not being self-deprecating here. She's easy to love & a much better person than I am, but I'm trying.
So, in conclusion, even though there's no spot to say it on my profile, sorry ladies I'm very much taken.
Love you lots.
Me
Monday, April 26, 2010
There's Always A Price To Pay
Guys...did you enjoy taking your girlfriend/spouse to "Kick-Ass?" Did you get out of seeing JLo in "The Back Up Plan" by conning her into seeing "The Losers?" Have you already told her that she's got to get home from work early on May 6th so you can make it to that midnight show of "Iron Man 2." I hope so. Because she's keeping score in her head and there's gonna be a price to pay. The bill comes due on May 27th when she looks at you & reminds you that "Sex & The City 2" is opening.
You may get lucky. She may have a gaggle of girlfriends just chomping at the bit to go see the equine Sarah Jessica Parker & friends head to that hotbed of partying and sex, the Middle East. For your sake, I hope so. Because if she doesn't, you're screwed. You can try and come up with any lame excuse you want, but it's not going to hold water. You're gonna get reminded how many times in the last month she's gone to see people get shot, disemboweled & blown up & it's only fair that you go see Carrie and her gang wear ugly clothes and bond.
Of course this is a gross generalization. I know there are many women who could care less about Sex and the City. There are many women who enjoy a good action flick as much as you do. For your sakes, I hope that you are involved with one of these women. If not, well, may God have mercy on your soul. Look at the bright side...there's a 50/50 chance that between hugs & girl power, there might be a little nudity.
You may get lucky. She may have a gaggle of girlfriends just chomping at the bit to go see the equine Sarah Jessica Parker & friends head to that hotbed of partying and sex, the Middle East. For your sake, I hope so. Because if she doesn't, you're screwed. You can try and come up with any lame excuse you want, but it's not going to hold water. You're gonna get reminded how many times in the last month she's gone to see people get shot, disemboweled & blown up & it's only fair that you go see Carrie and her gang wear ugly clothes and bond.
Of course this is a gross generalization. I know there are many women who could care less about Sex and the City. There are many women who enjoy a good action flick as much as you do. For your sakes, I hope that you are involved with one of these women. If not, well, may God have mercy on your soul. Look at the bright side...there's a 50/50 chance that between hugs & girl power, there might be a little nudity.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
You've Been Warned...
So, my capacity for dealing with stupid questions (especially from people who should know better) is at an all time low. Time was, I'd get asked a dumb question & I would patiently smile and answer and chuckle to myself about how silly people could be sometimes.
But not anymore. In fact, I'm instituting a new policy. If you begin asking me a stupid question (by my definition, a stupid question is one that if you thought about it for 5 seconds before asking, you'd realize that you either (a) already know the answer or (b) shouldn't be asking something so silly in the first place) I'm going to flick you in the ear until you (a) stop or (b) go away. No warning...just ear flicking. If this doesn't make you stop, I'm moving on to a sock full of nickels & will pummel you about the head & shoulders until you stop.
Naturally, there are exceptions to every rule. If you can (a) divorce me, (b) fire me or (c) kick the crap out of me (or any combination of the three) I will continue to answer your stupid questions with grace, but reserve the right to mock you mercilessly behind your back for a period of no less than 3 months.
Have a nice day.
But not anymore. In fact, I'm instituting a new policy. If you begin asking me a stupid question (by my definition, a stupid question is one that if you thought about it for 5 seconds before asking, you'd realize that you either (a) already know the answer or (b) shouldn't be asking something so silly in the first place) I'm going to flick you in the ear until you (a) stop or (b) go away. No warning...just ear flicking. If this doesn't make you stop, I'm moving on to a sock full of nickels & will pummel you about the head & shoulders until you stop.
Naturally, there are exceptions to every rule. If you can (a) divorce me, (b) fire me or (c) kick the crap out of me (or any combination of the three) I will continue to answer your stupid questions with grace, but reserve the right to mock you mercilessly behind your back for a period of no less than 3 months.
Have a nice day.
Monday, March 29, 2010
My Jeffrey Story
I couldn't verbalize this last night, but I wanted to share it.
Last January, for my 40th birthday, we had made plans to go out of town. For a variety of reasons, those plans fell through. So, we decided to just hang out at Frankie's & let people know we'd be there if they wanted to come by & help me celebrate this milestone.
Since my birthday that year fell on Super Bowl Sunday along with all the other things that people had going on, coupled with the fact that it was so last minute, I wasn't terribly surprised when after a couple of hours no one had shown up. Except that Jeffrey did.
We hung out for a while, played some games, won some tickets & had a nice visit. The next week, I mentioned to Richard that I appreciated Jeffrey coming by while he was home to visit. Richard told me that Jeffrey had driven in from Greensboro just to come see me for my birthday.
That meant a lot to me then & it means even more to me now.
Anyway...that's my Jeffrey story. Rest well, my friend. I'm gonna miss you.
Last January, for my 40th birthday, we had made plans to go out of town. For a variety of reasons, those plans fell through. So, we decided to just hang out at Frankie's & let people know we'd be there if they wanted to come by & help me celebrate this milestone.
Since my birthday that year fell on Super Bowl Sunday along with all the other things that people had going on, coupled with the fact that it was so last minute, I wasn't terribly surprised when after a couple of hours no one had shown up. Except that Jeffrey did.
We hung out for a while, played some games, won some tickets & had a nice visit. The next week, I mentioned to Richard that I appreciated Jeffrey coming by while he was home to visit. Richard told me that Jeffrey had driven in from Greensboro just to come see me for my birthday.
That meant a lot to me then & it means even more to me now.
Anyway...that's my Jeffrey story. Rest well, my friend. I'm gonna miss you.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Driving Me Crazy
Dear Other Motorists...
I know we've had a rocky relationship lately. We just can't get on the same page and it's causing us stress. I've examined our relationship & have come to one conclusion: It's not me, it's you.
You seem to be bipolar, especially the last few days. You see, either you're in front of me going 10 miles under the speed limit or you're behind me trying to go 10 miles faster than me while ignoring the basic principle of physics that states that two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time.
The slowness I don't have a huge problem with. Yes, it's annoying for me, but something that I can ultimately get over. It's the second trait that's causing me worry. You see, in the first place, I drive a large truck. Often, when you think I'm just leisurely cruising along, I actually have another vehicle in front of me and, since I have no desire to send their back seat flying suddenly into their front seat, I need to keep a little space between us. I know you can't see this, but we've been together long enough that you should trust me on this once in awhile.
In the second place, the idea that you're so much more important than I am hurts me deeply. I know there are times when I'm driving a little slower than you. Believe me, it's not to annoy you. It's that I have this ridiculous aversion to either (a) get a ticket or (b) slamming into inanimate objects like trees, guard rails and other cars just so you can save a few minutes. As someone with a fairly large ego, I understand the concept that you are the center of the universe. Trust me on this...you're not.
So, dear other driver, I'm asking you seek help & be patient or there may be consequences. Consider this...my truck is 9 years old, fully insured and I don't particularly care what happens to it at this point. Keep pushing me & you may find out what someone with nothing to lose, transportation-wise, will to to end a relationship.
All the best...
Me.
I know we've had a rocky relationship lately. We just can't get on the same page and it's causing us stress. I've examined our relationship & have come to one conclusion: It's not me, it's you.
You seem to be bipolar, especially the last few days. You see, either you're in front of me going 10 miles under the speed limit or you're behind me trying to go 10 miles faster than me while ignoring the basic principle of physics that states that two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time.
The slowness I don't have a huge problem with. Yes, it's annoying for me, but something that I can ultimately get over. It's the second trait that's causing me worry. You see, in the first place, I drive a large truck. Often, when you think I'm just leisurely cruising along, I actually have another vehicle in front of me and, since I have no desire to send their back seat flying suddenly into their front seat, I need to keep a little space between us. I know you can't see this, but we've been together long enough that you should trust me on this once in awhile.
In the second place, the idea that you're so much more important than I am hurts me deeply. I know there are times when I'm driving a little slower than you. Believe me, it's not to annoy you. It's that I have this ridiculous aversion to either (a) get a ticket or (b) slamming into inanimate objects like trees, guard rails and other cars just so you can save a few minutes. As someone with a fairly large ego, I understand the concept that you are the center of the universe. Trust me on this...you're not.
So, dear other driver, I'm asking you seek help & be patient or there may be consequences. Consider this...my truck is 9 years old, fully insured and I don't particularly care what happens to it at this point. Keep pushing me & you may find out what someone with nothing to lose, transportation-wise, will to to end a relationship.
All the best...
Me.
Monday, March 1, 2010
An E-Pip-phany
Everyone loves Gladys Knight. You know why? The Pips, that's why. Who wouldn't want a group of smooth background dancers following them around, choreographing their daily lives? Nobody, that's who. And, using the Pips method, I've figured out how to solve both the rampant depression and unemployment problems facing our nation today.
It's very simple...we take all of the people who are unemployed and put them in groups of four. Then, using a database of everyone in America on anti-depressants, we assign the groups of four to be the depressed person's Pips. The Pips spend their days following the depressed person around and dancing behind them in a very, well, Pip-like fashion.
Since it's impossible to be sad when you've got your very own Pips, the depressed person will be happy again. The money they used to spend on Xanax and the like will go into a fund to pay the Pips salaries. As an added bonus, the Pips, who were undoubtedly depressed at being unemployed, will now be happier individuals, thus eliminating their need for anti-depressants in the future.
Everybody wins...everybody gets Pips. You're welcome, America.
It's very simple...we take all of the people who are unemployed and put them in groups of four. Then, using a database of everyone in America on anti-depressants, we assign the groups of four to be the depressed person's Pips. The Pips spend their days following the depressed person around and dancing behind them in a very, well, Pip-like fashion.
Since it's impossible to be sad when you've got your very own Pips, the depressed person will be happy again. The money they used to spend on Xanax and the like will go into a fund to pay the Pips salaries. As an added bonus, the Pips, who were undoubtedly depressed at being unemployed, will now be happier individuals, thus eliminating their need for anti-depressants in the future.
Everybody wins...everybody gets Pips. You're welcome, America.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)