Monthly Archives: November 2000

funny spam from Brigitte:One of

funny spam from Brigitte:

One of the funniest “most-embarrassing-moment” stories I’ve come upon in a long time was about a lady who picked up several items at a discount store. When she finally got up to the checker, she learned that one of her items had no price tag. Imagine her embarrassment when the checker got on the intercom and boomed out for all the store to hear, “PRICE CHECK ON LANE THIRTEEN, TAMPAX, SUPERSIZE.” That was bad enough, but somebody at the rear of the store apparently misunderstood the word “Tampax” for “THUMBTACKS.” “DO YOU WANT THE KIND YOU PUSH IN WITH YOUR THUMB OR THE KIND YOU POUND IN WITH A HAMMER?”

and this

“Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child.” (Governor, almost President George W. Bush, Jr.)

Disinfo.com on Christian Cheerleaders of

Disinfo.com on Christian Cheerleaders of America:

MB: So in high schools across the country, there’s kind of this stereotype of the cheerleader as . . . as . . . uh, I don’t know how to put this correctly . . .

Rose: A promiscuous, popularity-crazed sex symbol.

MB: Right, a promiscuous, licentious sexual sex symbol. Do you feel the Christian Cheerleaders of America is combating this stereotype?

Rose: Yes, and of course that is a totally incorrect stereotype anyway.

MB: I don’t know. I mean, I’ve met some pretty sex symbol-like cheerleaders in my day.

Rose: That’s unfortunate.

MB: Would you ever, like, consider taking one of the girls’ pompoms and painting it green, and then setting it on fire so it would be like the Burning Bush or something?

Rose: No. We’re not extremists.

It’s all about the he

It’s all about the he said/she said:

She says: Do I look fat in this dress?
She means: We haven’t had a fight in a while. He says: I don’t know if I like her.
He means: She won’t blow me.

Two nights ago I went

Two nights ago I went to see Gladiator with Nick at the Imax. It was a pretty good movie. Incredible technical achievement. The plot was just too simple for such an epic. And you know the big hairy daddies LOVE that film – they’re all about Russel Crowe – I will say I admire his ability to change genres and types easily. And I only caught two parts where he slipped back into his Australian dialect. I was expecting it to be a little more homo-erotic a la Spartacus – it makes the whole Roman men motif a little risky and uncomfortable and creepy – that these men lived in a world defined by and composed of and ruled by men – and women were just wombs to be birthed. Interesting that the one woman warrior in the film gets cleaved in half – one of the more violent deaths in the film. And of course she’s black.

I hope someday I stop messing up their, they’re and there.

So much to do for the party – my mom called of course last night to ask how the preparations were going – of course I was at the movies. I guess she has this fantasy that I’m actually going to plan ahead and pace myself. Who am I the child of?

Seeing my grandmother really put things in perspective. To look in her ageless blue eyes and see her ancient face light up at seeing me humbled me and my ‘chaos’ beyond belief. Suddenly, that brass ring seems less worthwhile if you can run your fingers through a 94 year old woman’s thick white hair – a woman that did the same for you when you were just as able. That is a big argument with myself as a playwright – that sometimes life’s major moments are understated and subtle and barely in radar. They come and pass and they change you in small small ways. Like seeing my dad sit with the rest of his half-siblings for family pictures – a family picture in which he finally belonged. To see my grandfather O’bryan gearing up for chemotherapy at 78 year of age for his colon cancer. Or his wife Musa Belle grinning in a wheelchair because that is all she can do right now. It makes you want to just value the fact that you can walk, talk, think, dance, eat, sing, play and celebrate.

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Oh yeah – I had a dream last night that I was laying in bed watching TV with 98 degrees – only they were called N Sync. Hmmm. I was asking them if they all ever just got so horny they had a group whack-off session.

Then I woke up.