Ah, there is nothing I can add to this except “and you are always right” but of course that goes without saying. Stolen from MasterCowfish, which really isn’t purple at all.
Your Blog Should Be Orange |
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You write what’s on your mind, without fear of embarrassment later. You are one of the most honest bloggers around, and people appreciate your daring persona. |
What Color Should Your Blog or Journal Be?
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Well, the spelling is along the right lines, and as everyone knows, Cthulhu himself is green, so perhaps this isn’t so far off after all. Also, I’m on a four day green smoothie fast, so my insides are probably this colour right now, and by tomorrow I’ll probably be capable of photosynthesis. If the blog bores you in the meantime, it’s because this whole thing was a stupid idea and didn’t even leave me the strength to blog. With my luck, I even gained weight; I gained thirty pounds on chemo.
I’m real crabby though, so that’s something good to come out of this.
You are |
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It is with a heavy heart that I inform that infinitesimal percentage of the world not already in deep mourning that Calvert deForest (Larry “Bud” Melman), who lived his life like a cheap, smelly cigar in the wind, has gone to that great Green Room in the Sky. David Letterman, who gave “Melman” his start in show business, is reported to be inconsolable.
Cheap, Smelly, Old-Man’s Cigar in the Wind
Goodbye butt of jokes,
may you ever bitch, groan and whine.
You were the ass that placed himself
where you’d be a bad punchline.
You called out to our slackers,
and you babbled to insomniacs.
Now you belong to heaven,
and the stars know you were whack.
And it seems to me you lived your life
like a curmudgeon in the wind:
never getting even one clue
when Letterman set in.
And your footsteps will always thud here,
along New York’s sleazy halls;
your cigar’s burned out long before
you ever lost your balls.
Crankiness we’ve lost;
these empty nights without your roar.
This torch we’ll always carry
for our nation’s favorite bore.
And even though we try,
the truth brings us to tears;
all our words cannot express
the joy you brought us through the years.
Goodbye New York’s joke,
from a country lost, without a soul,
who’ll miss the chance to laugh at you
more than you’ll ever know.
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on the back of a Rice Krispies box…and thanks to the blog Phil Spector at WordPress.
Indeed, back in the day all bands, no matter how selflessly dedicated to sheer artistic integrity at all costs, were forced at gunpoint to record cheesy commercial jingles, mostly (for some reason) for beverages, electrically acidified or not. The Rolling Stones, it turns out, were no exception.
In between hearty bouts of celebrating the Black Mass, mystic groupie-groping orgies, and the occasional refreshing snack break, the boys found time to sandwich in the recording of a jingle for Kellogg’s Rice Krispies in October of 1963. Imagine the segue: “Okay boys, that’s a wrap on Little Red Rooster, but now we’ve got something else for you…”
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I was at a writing conference a couple of years ago and the keynote speaker said something that absolutely rocked me to the very core of my being…and I hope it will rock you, too.
It was Susan Musgrave, at the Surrey International Writer’s Conference. She was talking about when she was a teenager, and she was thinking about giving up on school. Well, you just know how that went over with the Principal. He called her into his office and he went up one side of her and down the other with the whole raging authority figure trip (because at that point nobody had heard of Susan Musgrave and, indeed, she had not yet become Susan Musgrave, per se) and among the many and varied things he had to say, he said this:
If you don’t finish school, young lady, the only job you’ll be fit for is a prostitute!
And, telling the story, she said, Well I knew that wasn’t an option for me, because I hate working with other people.
and who among us cannot feel that deep in the core of our being, eh?
She went on to say, “Have you ever met someone who worked with other people? They all hate it; the only things they complain about are all the other people in the office!”
and suddenly, writing alone by the glow of a midnight monitor doesn’t seem so bad.
In memory of that moment of realization, and in memorium of many an Orwellian moment in my own office experience, we present Mister Montgomery Burns of The Simpsons, performing what’s sure to become the office worker’s anthem: Look at All These Idiots! Lyrics over the jump…
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raincoaster 