Category: words mean things (Page 196 of 223)

Speaking of parents, it’s my mother’s birthday today. Rather than get all goopy and sentimental (and I definitely could – she is a flat-out amazing woman), as a tribute to her I offer one of my favorite moments from that other Mom paragon, Marge Simpson:

Marge: I just don’t understand what ‘being cool’ means. Kids, am I cool?
Bart and Lisa (look at each other, then simultaneously): No.
Marge: Well, I don’t care. I don’t care whether I’m cool or not…….And that makes me cool, right?
Bart and Lisa (bored, simultaneously): No.

More interesting art by way of my father.

My current favorite advertising slogan:
Nothing says ‘I love you’ like flame-broiled beef.

My cable lineup has added something called the Product Information Network (PIN) – an all-infomercial channel. For me, this is something like sending a case of Ring Dings to the home of a member of Overeaters Anonymous every week. I can’t get enough of these fake earnest sales pitches. My current favorite is for something called Bloussant, a pill women take that is supposed to increase their bust size. They even splurged on some Tron-level graphics which show the green 3-D outline of a woman’s chest with, apparently, air being pumped into it. When Arthur C. Clarke envisioned the future, I don’t think this was it.

There are two categories of funny TV shows: smart funny and comedy club funny. Smart funny, whose apex came with The Mary Tyler Moore Show, gets its laughs from characters; comedy club funny, with current examples like The King of Queens, gets its laughs from situations. This is not to say that comedy club funny (which I thought of calling ‘sitcom funny,’ but they’re all sitcoms) can’t be hilarious and entertaining. I don’t miss KofQ, and the brilliant Fawlty Towers is perhaps the apex of this type. But for the long haul, smart funny rules. Discuss?

“Hello Kitty has no mouth, but man can she hum.” Hilarious. (thanks to Moira, who truly exemplifies that words mean things)

I’m seriously thinking of entering the Bulwer-Lytton contest this year. Here’s my latest (purposely) bad prose:

Pa’s moonshinin’ ain’t gonna cost me another beau, thought Elvina, as she hitched up her Daisy Dukes, cinched her bandana top, kicked aside Tater, the Gloops’ near-blind hound, and threw open the torn screen door to meet her paramour, Elwood R. Sanderson, Revenuer.

After all my proselytizing about being an anti-consumer, I spent the day yesterday on a near-religious pilgrimage to the shrine of IKEA, a massive ziggurat dedicated to the love of cut-rate housewares. It’s right next to Woodfield Mall in the Chicago suburbs, a scary church of consumerism in its own right. The giant three-level IKEA is truly something to see, and although I still have very little impulse to shop for anything, it’s a fun place to browse around in. I got some picture frames and an area rug which seemed much cooler hanging from the IKEA ceiling than it did when I got it home. Such are the trials of a reluctant consumer.

Celebrity identification quiz:
a. b. c.

1. Faith Hill
2. Christina Aguilera
3. Britney Spears

My new favorite website: Robot Frank’s Life

Bonus robot link: Monkey vs. Robot