Upon the eve of the all-hollows…

I was thinking of writing a ghoulish tale today, about Halloween and it’s growing significance to America, and maybe a thing or two about how it’s changed in my lifetime… I also toyed with sharing a few choice stories of my own encounters with the paranormal from my time as a researcher…

But then I said “Screw that… an actual essay seems way too much like work.”

So, instead, I present the following…
(with apologies to The late, great Vincent Price, and the very scary Monogloved one:)

Darkness falls across the land…
The midnight hour is close at hand.
Creatures crawl in search of blood…
To terrorize y’alls neighborhood.
And whosoever shall be found,
Without the soul for getting down…
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpses shell.
The foulest stench is in the air…
The funk of forty thousand years!
And grizzly ghouls from every tomb
Are closing in to seal your doom.
And though you fight to stay alive…
Your body starts to shiver!
For no mere mortal can resist
The evil of… the thriller.

Bwah-ha-ha-ha! Bwah-ha-ha-ha!

Happy Halloween.

Some funny on a friday...

When Mozart passed away, he was buried in a churchyard. A couple days later, the town drunk was walking through the cemetery and heard some strange noise coming from the area where Mozart was buried.

Terrified, the drunk ran and got the town magistrate to come and listen to it.
When the magistrate arrived, he bent his ear to the grave, listened for a moment, and said, "Ah, yes, that's Mozart's Ninth Symphony, being played backwards."
He listened a while longer, and said, "There's the Eighth Symphony, and it's backwards, too. Most puzzling."

So the magistrate kept listening; "There's the Seventh... the Sixth... the Fifth..."
Suddenly the realization of what was happening dawned on the magistrate; he stood up and announced to the crowd that had gathered in the cemetery, "My fellow citizens, there's nothing to worry about. It's just Mozart decomposing."


And if that weren't funny enough for y'all... check out this video of a friend of mine at a costume contest... (make sure you watch the whole thing through.)

Corny jokes surround me.

Did you hear about the dyslexic devil worshipper? He sold his soul to Santa.

A jumper cable walks into a bar and orders a beer. The bartender says "I'll serve you, but don't start anything!"

Cell phone rudeness…

It amazes me sometimes just how rude other people can be in the use of their cell phones. I have seen this happening a lot lately. Sometimes, it’s a woman ignoring the check-out person at the supermarket because the horrible job her friend Yeveonne had on her nails was simply more important… sometimes it’s the man at McDonalds who thought that talking cutesy-wootsy to his girlfriend surely took precedence over his (or any of the people behind him in line) need for a Big Mac. These are signs of the times we live in; An irrefutable symbol of our growing need to not interact with people in the world around us save through the buffer of our technology.

I’m not a cell phone Nazi, mind you… but there are times when it is simply inappropriate to take a call, and other times when you should just turn the damn thing off. To not do so is simply rude. Maybe some people just don’t get that their cell phones have an off switch for a reason. I know that I thank the lord every day that if I don’t want to be bothered, I can just turn it off… but then, I’m the type that does that.

I thought I had hit the height of witnessing cell phone rudeness a few months ago, at the movies with JavaFooFoo, when a woman answered her cell phone, and proceded to have a full on conversation, annoying everyone in the theatre. (FooFoo, to her credit, leaned over and told the woman to either shut the hell up or take the call outside) We joked later about how it doesn’t get much ruder than that.

Ha. I wish.

For those of you that haven’t heard, Ducky’s father passed away this week. Funerals are never fun… very un-kahunaish. I usually get through them with my “why do we call it a wake” jokes, or the ever popular rant about how I insist on being buried in a hawaiian shirt. This one was no exception.

The ceremony was dignified. Sadly, it was really clear to me that the pastor giving the eulogy had no clue about who Ducky’s dad really was… but it was still a pretty good sermon. Got me thinking though; in the unlikely event I don’t outlive all of y’all, I fully expect my eulogy to be given by someone with a sense of humor who actually KNOWS me. Preferably in the style of those classic Dean Martin celebrity roasts. (Jay, Lauren, Dave…I’m lookin at you!) That and lord help the person who ignores my Hawaiian shirt request. I am not above coming back to haunt whoever decides a suit would be more appropriate. I have friends on the other side, you know… being a paranormal researcher was not without its perks. A few strippers at the wake would also be good…

But I digress. Back to the funeral.

Ducky’s dad had been in the military when he was younger, and so got full military honors. It was perhaps, the most moving part of the ceremony, as the USMC honor guard approached the coffin, and the bugler started playing “Taps”… I was getting a little misty-eyed when someone’s cell phone went off.

I thought this was kinda funny (at first), thinking to myself how mortified I would have been for my phone to ring at that moment. Everyone looked around (except the Marines, who stayed focused on the solemn duty at hand) and saw that it was one of Ducky’s aunts (one of his Dad’s sisters) whose phone was ringing. My amusement quickly turned to disbelief however, as she then ANSWERED THE CALL!!!!

“Hello? Yes… No…” (then notices everyone staring) “Can you call me back tomorrow? I’m at my Brother’s funeral. Okay. Bye.”

The phrase “Have some respect for the dead” comes to mind. So do the phrases “Were you raised by wolves with manners like that?” and “Are you handicapped or just stupid?”

I know Cell Phone Jammers are illegal in the US, but I would think with the number of businesses that would want one (theatres, funeral homes, schools and churches, to name a few) that the FCC would get off its fannies and figure out how to make them work within their guidelines.

Opinions anyone?

Fun with photoshop... part deux

This week on "Pimp my ride", we heard from D. Grayson of Gotham city who wrote, "I know that older chicks dig my benefactor's car, (which is fine for him) but I also know that there is no way that the fly young honeys will want to be seen with me in this tank. I mean, that cars style is like, 'Holy 1930's Batman!' Help me, please!!!! Pimp my ride!!!"

And so we did. We gave the whole thing an updated look, added some 40" rims, a sound system that even the Joker would think is crazy, and a built in 90" plasma that rises up out of the hood. as you can see, at least one fly honey agrees that Grayson's new ride is off the hizzle:



Next week, W.W. of NYC has a plane that she says makes her invisible to the opposite sex. We'll see what we can do about it next time on "Pimp my ride"

Making with the funny...

I think sometimes, that I have waaaaaay too much time on my hands at work.

A moment at the job....

Apparently, the sheet metal buisness is a little hazardous... One of our shipping guys came into the office today with a bit of a gash on his hand. It wasn't deep, but he was acting like a two-year-old while Mama Janet (my co-worker) was applying the peroxide and a band-aid. All the while two new job applicants (who can't see that it's really just a scratch) are wondering what kinda death trap they've signed on to work in. To hear the shipping guy, you would think his thumb was about to fall off.

"Do you have your tetnaus shots?" Mama Janet asked.

"No, but I have my rabies shot." He said.

Too good to pass up, I immediately chimed in with "The hell with that, just make sure he's had his distemper shots!"

Everyone in the office laughed....


I love this job.

Why some folks shouldn't have kids....

Is it really immature of me that I laughed for a full five minutes at the thought of this?

I mean, please... put down the kid and pick up a bat, lady. You get no distance or additional force with a child, and I care not to think what the melee modifier would be to hit! (Sorry... can you tell I play RPGs?) And furthermore, if you are too darn lazy to put down the kid and look around for a sledgehammer or something, why on earth do you think you'll actually WIN a fight?

Still, I suppose you don't have to worry about keeping the label up with a baby, huh?

Revelation of the week...

My laugh sounds just like Barney Rubble.