Talkin’ About the French Quarter During the Fourth Quarter

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The indomitable and I watched the Tennessee Titans play the New Orleans Saints tonight, and I heard the commentators and reports frequently mention Katrina. I must admit that I am tired of hearing about the recovery process and how NOLA is still suffering from their losses. I realize that saying this opens myself up for a slew of criticism and hatemail. Let me first say that I do not disagree with the television personalities. Louisiana is still hurting two years after the hurricane and the tragic levee break. I pray Americans never forget, but sadly, I know that too many people have grown apathetic to these communities. In March, we traveled to NOLA and took Grayline’s Katrina tour. At first I was standoffish about exploiting the sufferings of others as a form of entertainment, but after the tour concluded and I got off the bus, I was thankful for the knowledge I gained. Everything you have seen or heard on TV or in the newspaper is absolutely true.

With that education, it’s amazing that I would complain about all the commentary. I just feel that the audience is not fully grasping what they are saying. And I may not be giving these reporters enough credit. Like me in March, they may be witnessing the devastation for the first time and finding it difficult to not talk about it. I just wish they’d find a new way to try to explain the circumstances that still exist in the Crescent city. Maybe their next campaign should say something like this: “Tired of all the Katrina talk? Visit New Orleans. Put money into our economy, and then we’ll shut up.”

In addition to a better understanding of human suffering, the trip would guarantee you a good time with lots of liquor, good music, and food that is to die for. Though they are still rebuilding and half the population hasn’t returned, they’re still New Orleans. Trust me.

What Corner Did They Use to Find a Sample Study?

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At first glance, I thought the paper created a misleading headline to grab readers’ attention, but after I read the disturbingly funny first paragraph of this article, I realized that it was accurate.  This finding could be very helpful in supporting a mandatory HPV vaccine and in fueling charismatic youth ministers’ lectures on abstinence. “True love waits. Besides, premarital sex and heavy petting will make you impure and give you cancer!”

Yo, Pay Your Promises

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Yoplait has recently started their annual Save Lids to Save Lives campaign where they ask their consumers to save their yogurt lids and mail them to Yoplait.  In return, Yoplait donates 10 cents for every lid to the Susan G. Komen foundation, up to $1.5 million.  I have, for many years, had a number concerns regarding this campaign. However, before I go on my rant, I want to acknowledge that I think it’s great that Yoplait gives this money to breast cancer research and education.  The majority of their consumers are women, and it’s wonderful that they are giving back to the community.

But why do they need the lids?  If they are willing to donate $1.5 million, why don’t they just donate it? Or maybe they know they’ll never get 150 million lids and therefore have an obtainable promise. When I was in the fourth grade, my teacher, Ms. Wallace, wanted the class to have a true concept of 1 million.  That year she assigned us the task of drawing 1 million x’s on notebook paper.  Each side of the notebook paper was to have ten boxes containing 100 x’s, therefore giving each side of paper 1,000 x’s.  With thirty kids in the class and 9 months of school, we never made 1 million x’s.  If Yoplait really wanted to give $1.5 million, they would give each lid a higher value.

Also, why lids? Do they honestly want women to save them?  Personally, I hate the idea of having saliva and soured dairy covered lids collecting on my kitchen cabinet.  And what kind of postage are we looking at here? The recent postal rates and regulation changes have made it increasingly difficult to send unusual sized items through the mail.  What if the yogurt dries up and flakes off the lid? I don’t want another anthrax scare.

Does Yoplait hire illegal immigrants to sort the mail and touch these lids? If so, I hope they provided them with gloves.  Or did they waste precious donation money to create a lid counting machine?  I think Yoplait should save the money they would use for illegal counting robots and pony up the real dollar amount they want to give.  Then they should just ask people to give Susan G. Komen the $1 they would have spent on postage and save the rest of us from a toxic mail scare.

Agile Puppy

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in the tunnel

Korbie as Sigourney Weaver in Alien

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Chicago 075

Sphincter Says What

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Does this commercial make anyone else uncomfortable? Maybe my discomfort is caused by the look of displeasure on the bears’ faces. Or maybe it’s how the camera follows this shot by panning to their behinds. Personally, I think it’s the way they cuddle the toilet paper that gives me a distinct impression that they are Charmin’s cartoon representation of my asshole.

Engraved Wedding Bands, Collect All Three

put-it-back-on
*photo by benfRank

When I ordered the indomitable’s wedding ring, I secretly had a message engraved on the inside. This special request made its arrival dangerously close to our wedding, but thankfully it appeared on my doorstep about a week before we said “I do.” I also managed to get him to try it on and make sure it fit without him noticing the presence of an inscription. Dying to show him, I immediately told him to look inside his ring as soon as we were officially married.

“Put…it…back…on. Hahah! What does yours say!?!”

“Nothing, honey. You didn’t have anything put inside mine.”

“Oh.”

Fit to Lie on a Heating Pad

On Saturday, I weighed myself at the YMCA and discovered that I’ve gained 20lbs since meeting the indomitable. That day I vowed to eat better and go to the gym every day. After my workout, I went to my friend Lolly’s house to watch football and consumed sausage balls, chocolate silk pies, coconut creme pies, beer bread, chips, guacamole, hot wings, and beer. Obviously, I’m weak, especially for her and husband’s cooking, especially since he’s the kitchen manager at the Cheesecake Factory. I also skipped working out for the next two days.

On Tuesday I decided that I would go to the Y twice a day until I dropped some of the extra poundage. I got dressed and ready to go when I discovered that I locked my keys in my car. Not willing to be derailed, I popped in my Carmen Electra’s Aerobic Striptease Volume II: Fit to Strip DVD. This video is unlike the rest in the series as it’s not a dance routine but regular workout. Carmen exercises with Michael Carson, a fitness Nazi trainer, who proceeds to beat the shit fat off of you. It’s so intense that Carmen whines incessantly on the video.

I’ve owned this video close to two years so I know how painfully sore it makes me for days afterward. In fact, I once fell down the stairs at my old apartment the morning after a workout because my legs were so weak. Despite that memory, I foolishly decided to go the Y that afternoon with the indomitable. Then I proceeded to fight through the pain the next morning and returned again to the gym. By yesterday evening, I was suffering. I could barely walk.

To say I overdid it would be an understatement. I am no where near being fit to strip nor do I feel sexy. Somehow I don’t think the indomitable is attracted to a woman that writhes in pain throughout the night and who’s Thermacare patch wearing knees buckle beneath her when she walks. Screw you, Carmen Electra.

A Failure to Communicate

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Just like many people thought that Jimi Hendrix was saying “Kiss This Guy” during Purple Haze, I have misheard and incorrectly sang the slogan for Sara Lee foods for many years. I always thought it was “Nobody does it like Sara Lee,” but over lunch today, my father-in-law, Mike, told me that he was recently corrected by a Sara Lee delivery truck. Both sides of the truck were painted with “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee,” which to me is both presumptuous and grammatically incorrect. They shouldn’t assume that I do not like Sara Lee. In my family, Mrs. Smith always makes our Christmas pies. Also, that’s a double negative.

I tried to do some fact checking on the Internet. Wikipedia states: “Nobody does it like Sara Lee.” However, this is a publicly written encyclopedia and, therefore, cannot be trusted. (Remember this, college kids. Your professors will not accept it as a reliable source, and if they do, you should transfer to a legitimate school.) All remaining sources state “Nobody doesn’t like Sara Lee.” Blessed YouTube answered my question.

On a side note: I discovered that Sara Lee is, in fact, a real person unlike that fictitious bitch, Betty Crocker.

It’s to Protect Your Balls

I love football.  I cannot express how much jubilation I’m experience today, the first Saturday of college football season.  It’s an appreciation that I acquired as an adult since none of my parents enjoy sports and I was born without any athletic skill.  In fact, the only sport I played was T-ball in the first grade, and the only game my team won was the only game I didn’t play.  But that’s expected since also I gave myself a black eye by throwing the softball in the air to practice catching it.  This may explain why I attend baseball games only for the hot dogs.

But football.  I love football.  I don’t completely understand all the play calls and I can’t really tell you the positions on the defensive line.  However,  I still think it’s great.  I especially like it when the commentators say “Tuck it and run.”  But that may be my dirty minded fourteen year old coming out.