Let’s fasten our sheet belt, ‘cause it will be a dark and stormy night. Halloween is here.
Well … more there than here, we don’t have pumpkins you know!
And I can’t help being worried for you. All the young children actively engage in dayscare and your teenage daughter turns into a witch and all of a sudden takes spelling very serious.
I feel it is my duty to warn you and give you some survival tips:
1. Do not search the basement, especially if the power has just gone out. This tip is also useful to all secondary characters in any horror movie.
2. Stay away from certain geographical locations, some of which are listed here:
Nilbog (you’re in trouble if you recognize this one),
the Bermuda Triangle
Any small town in Maine.
3.Extending a friendly hand to something suspiciously smelling of recombinant DNA technology, is never wise.
4. Never read a book of demon summoning aloud, even as a joke. Ask Faust! Oh you can’t, he’s dead!
Just remember, you have taken Halloween too far when all the skeletons in your closet have names.
There is a flicker of light in all of this though:
If a skeleton chases you down the road, just cross it. It can’t follow you…it doesn’t have the guts, you know!
Happy Halloween, everybody!
~ Penguin out!
Filed under: crummy letters
Hi, neighbor. You may recall that the last time I ranted in your direction, it was about the number, frequency, timing, and volume of the fireworks you were shooting off. I now come on bended knee, begging you to bring the fireworks back out of retirement.
But only, of course, if you point them directly at the enormous holiday–themed inflatable thingies that you insist on sticking in your front lawn. Please. Let’s light off a whole ream of bottle rockets right into the center of each and every one of them.
Don’t get me wrong: I love a good holiday. I’ve got a great costume planned for Halloween. I do not, however, feel the need to stick a 25-foot tall inflatable Frankenstein in my front lawn to celebrate the occasion. Have you ever tried to sleep in the shadow of a 25-foot Frankenstein? What am I saying: Of course you have, he’s in your yard. Here’s a better question: HOW THE HELL CAN YOU POSSIBLY GET ANY SLEEP IN THE SHADOW OF A 25-FOOT FRANKENSTEIN?!?
I’m sitting here leafing through my neighborhood by-laws. You realize that I can’t have a permanent basketball hoop attached to my garage because of “aesthetic reasons”? Yet these same bylaws allow you to employ a constant rotation of monstrous vinyl creations filled with more hot air than Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter combined?!? I might not feel the need for this letter if the madness were to end at Frankenstein. But no: he’ll quickly be followed up by a huge inflatable Turkey (or Pilgrim), then a gigantic Santa Claus (or Frosty the Snowman), then Cupid, then an Easter Bunny, then….heck, I don’t know…Queen Victoria or some such insanity. Somehow all that’s OK, but if I wanted to play one-on-one in my driveway I’m committing a violation?!?!
You might have noticed that my other neighbor’s house is up for sale. I saw a car full of real estate agents drive past yesterday pointing and laughing at the poor guy’s place while snapping pictures of Frankenstein. The driver nearly veered off the road, and I’m pretty sure the woman who was riding shotgun wet herself from laughing so hard. Your vinyl fetish has single-handedly demolished the entire real estate market in a 5-block radius. Somehow fresh coats of paint, new laminate hardwood flooring and stainless steel appliances are no matches for a glowing, undead zombie hovering menacingly above the neighborhood. Go figure.
Look, celebrate whatever holidays you want as enthusiastically as you want. Put up lights and banners and flags and streamers and give out candy and put out a landing strip for Santa and host an Easter Egg hunt and plant a tree on Arbor Day…whatever, that’s fine!! But certainly even you can see that something the size of the Goodyear Blimp just might encroach on the goodwill of the neighborhood (not to mention common sense) (and good taste).
If you don’t agree with me, might I suggest something? Perhaps you can put ALL of your hot air inflatables out at the same time, just to really tick me off. Make sure you tie one to each corner. Then tie a couple to your roof, just for good measure. That’ll show me.
Meanwhile I’ll be over here, praying for a stiff wind and some good luck.
PS: Humor-blogs.com wanted to point out that the inflatable you have to celebrate Labor Day is very inappropriate. It’s about workforce labor, not child birth.
from my friends.
Well, it’s lonely here without Snuppy. Can’t deny it. Can’t say that I’m having these posts rolling out like an assembly line. Can’t say that I wasn’t up until about 1:00 am putting the finishing touches on an Africa project for my daughter. Oh, go ahead – judge me. How will the child learn anything? How will she be accountable? What will she learn from that? She’ll learn that she would have gotten a better grade on her own and maybe she’ll learn to pace herself and plan out her project a little better timewise. That’s what she’ll learn. Screw that. She’s my daughter. It’s genetic and hopefully we can help her avoid the ways of the procrastinator.
So, I’m a bit cranky. There’s no post. And, and the video that I saved in here disappeared and my office has done something with our mail systems over the weekend so that I can’t seem to open two windows at once and can’t save the video in here. Okay, never mind that last part, but I left it in for the purpose of sharing my anxiety. A little free floating anxiety for a Monday never hurt anybody.
On to the video. I’ll work in a musical opposites/cheap laugh (MOCL) if it’s the last thing I do today (and judging by my mood, it just may be). Our wonderfully talented and charming DJ LAMPSHA – oh, heh heh, that’s me (deep blush), I was just following Snuppy’s MOCL post template. Well I featured The Hold Steady in this weekend’s Spin. I really like them. But I would be politically correct and that would just be bad, if I didn’t point out the lead singer, Craig Finn’s, how shall I say? Exuberance! Yes, exuberance behind the mike. His twisting and straining reminded me of a certain singer who on his own (and I do love him) is almost a parody, but then add John Belushi in…well, take a look.
Some of you may be too young to remember this airing originally – screw you too on a Monday. Some of you, may be in league with me – put on your reading glasses and turn up the tunes:
Head on over to Humor-blogs.com, where Parody means never having to say I’m sorry. Or something.
Filed under: Lampsha Spins
I don’t know why I haven’t featured The Hold Steady before. Really, it’s one of those unexplained things of the Universe. It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying their music over this past year. Their debut album, Boys and Girls in America was released in October 2006 and you may well have heard their music on your radios. NPR has described them as “America’s Bar Band” – sounds good to me. So grab a beer and pack yourself into a crowded space and check em out:
Here’s a link to their MySpace and I’m eyeing their tour dates because I wouldn’t mind checking them out when they come to NYC in November. I think I can even get Scissors to go. Our musical tastes don’t always mesh but he’s a sucker for live music and I’m betting they’ll deliver. Oh and I imagine, everything you ever wanted to know about them can be found HERE.
Now I’m off to hold steady and get my kids to music school.
Have a great weekend!
~ DJ LAMPSHA
PSST: They’re holding steady and rolling in the aisles at Humor-blogs.com!
Filed under: Sex, Ed?
We are all products of how we were raised and well how we were informed about life and how life comes to be formed. Last week as my daughter was getting ready for school some “facts-of-lifey” type of statement was raised. My husband answered, “You’ll learn that in Biology in 7th Grade.” I scowled at him and said to Tali, “You know Daddy’s a bit old school. He learned about the facts of life in the stone ages when it was taught like this:
CaveMan: Ummmm pretty cave woman. Me like.
Drag by hair. Boom Boom. We make baby. Me hunt.”
The facts of life. The End.
I assured her that I would do my best to give her a better talk than that when she wasn’t ready to hop on the school bus. Time passes. Fast forward to a day later as Tali sat doing her homework.
Tali: “What’s an X rated movie?”
Me: “Where did you hear about an x rated movie?”
After a small amount of prodding (that included nothing sharp): “Well, on the bus, Daniella said that when she walked in the hallway past her mother’s bedroom she was watching an x rated movie.”
Me: “Tali, maybe it wasn’t x-rated, maybe people were kissing, blah, blah, blah…”
So I start to explain the facts in a slightly more evolved manner than the caveman example. “When two people love….” Tali’s eyes are bursting over trying not to laugh. So I do the mature thing any mother would do trying to make her daughter feel comfortable about her body and sexuality and setting the tone for comfort with herself for years to come – I burst out laughing. Then she did too.
I asked her when she was discussing this moment with someone, say someone taking notes, in the years to come to please let her memory be kind. Of course Mommy wasn’t laughing at her, just well maybe a little at her – but mostly with her as she laughed at Mommy.
I wish I had had the benefit of this film to review prior to our talk. It certainly makes it all so understandable:
So see, my kids could certainly have done a lot worse when it comes to straightforward talk about the facts of life.
That’s it, short and sweet. The truth is I send my kids over to Humor-blogs.com for the facts of life.
Posted by: Lampsha (a/k/a G of Simply Said)
Filed under: funny...
What the hell did you do to our template? I know you never really liked the creepy chick pictures, but you can’t just go changing the template whenever you want. Why oh why did we ever set you up as an admin?
What is that supposed to be anyway? Oh, I get it. It’s a parody of that 1942 painting by Edward Hopper, “Nighthawks.”
Yeah, because that’s never been done before. Perhaps you’re not familiar with Gottfried Helnwein’s takeoff, “Boulevard of Broken Dreams.” Were you even aware that the version with James Dean, Marylin Monroe, Humphrey Bogart and Elvis wasn’t the original? Uh huh. Sure you were.
So not exactly an original idea, except that you’ve replaced the characters with famous comedians. Looks like Groucho Marx, Lucille Ball, Steve Martin… and is that Jon Stewart behind the counter? Kind of an odd group, isn’t it? I guess you were going for sort of a “wisecrackers through the decades” theme. You’ve got Groucho for the 30s and 40s, Lucille Ball for the 50s and 60s, Steve Martin for the 70s and 80s, and Jon Stewart for the 90s and the naughties.* Interesting. Steve Martin doesn’t really fit, though, does he? Chevy Chase would make more sense. Yeah, I guess his career kind of peaked with Fletch, didn’t it? Hmmm. Letterman? But then you’d have two talk show hosts. Woody Allen? Clearly a genius, but a little too creepy. And his career peaked about the same time as Chevy’s. I guess Steve Martin is a pretty solid choice, Cheaper By the Dozen notwithstanding.
Still, you can’t just change the template like that, without even telling anybody. Oh, you thought it would be a nice surprise for Snuppy? Yeah, good thinking. How would you like me to redecorate your house with a Holly Hobby theme the next time you leave town? You’d better hope that she likes it, pal, because you’re on your own with this one.
And that tagline, “Where everybody knows you’re lame”? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Huh? No, that’s completely different. Everybody knew that was a joke. Besides, you can’t bite someone over the internet. Yours is just mean. It alienates people right off the bat. Maybe that kind of gratuitous cruelty flies over at the Mattress Police, but we try to be a little nicer over here.
What do you mean, you think you can put the old template back? Don’t you have a backup somewhere? Good lord, man, this is the Snark you’re messing with. You’ve got some cajones, I’ll give you that much.
Well, I guess we’ll see what the commenters think. You’d better hope they like it.
*This still might catch on.
Psst: You wanna talk about cajones?! Head on over to Humor-blogs.com. ~ Lampsha
Filed under: funny...
and apparently easy to cross. So what do you think, is it easy to tell the sane from the fruitcakes, the mentally stable from the gaga?
I used to think you could spot them from a mile away. Over the last week I have been visiting a “looney bin” in relations to my studies and talked to a few of the people in there. One guy was particularly interesting and he gave me this research I am reading right now and have to share with you:
In 1973 a psychology graduate student and 7 others, presented themselves at 12 different hospitals and complained about hearing voices. When prompted upon those voices they said that they were unfamiliar, of the same gender as the speaker and they used words like “empty”, “hollow” and “thud” in their descriptions.
What a high percentage of those 8 do you think got diagnosed as bonkers and offered a bed next to another cuckoo?
All 8 of them got admitted straight away. Seven of them with the diagnosis of acute scizophrenia. Who would have thought it? Now, the rules where that they had to get themselves into the ward and get themselves out of there. They had to present their true history, family trees and everything. The only things they were allowed to change was their names, their employment and vocation. All these showed that there was no history of mental illness in the family for generations, that the person had never suffered from any oddities before and so on.
How long do you think it took the staff to finally realize they made a diagnostic mistake?
They never did. Upon arrival, our pseudopatients acted totally normal, mentioned that all unusual auditory sensations had stopped and they felt just fine. During their stay they took notes obsessively for the research, none of the staff bothered checking what in the name of wacky were they doing. Hospitalization lasted from 7-52 days and they were discharged with a diagnosis of scizophrenia “in remission”.
Who do you think noticed their fakeness?
Yep, the real patients. Almost upon arrival, patients were saying things like:”You’re not crazy. You are a journalist, or a professor[referring to the continual note-taking]. You’re checking up on the hospital.” Conversations overheard by the nursing staff and smiled at.
The report of the nurses showed that the behaviour of our pseudopatients was co-operational, calm and clear from the get go. But, once a person is labeled as abnormal, all of his other behaviors and characteristics are colored by that label.
What are you to take from this?
Nothing or something. Whatever you choose. I for one, went home thinking that the sane are not “sane” all the time. We lose our tempers, we get depressed and anxious and on occasion find it difficult to get along with this or that person. All for no good reason. Likewise, the “insane” are not always insane. Research clearly shows that their insanity occupies a minimal portion of the day.
I stopped and smiled this morning as I went upstairs into the kitchen for the 5th time to check if I had not absolutely switched off the coffee machine.
Head over to humor-blogs, where the line is no longer visible.