Apparently, a Qatari diplomat tried to have a smokey smoke in the bathroom on his flight from Washingtion to Denver, and when confronted about the smell of smoke by a stewardess and a US Marshall he made a joke that he was “trying to light his shoe on fire.”
I used to travel a lot for work, mostly to places that were far, far away. I’d end up on a 6am flight out of NYC, which means I’d be heading to the airport around 4:15am. The car that would pick me up to take me to the airport would ALWAYS have 1010wins playing on the radio. (For those that don’t live in NYC, it’s the local news radio station that updates random crap you could care less about every 10 minutes. Hence the name.) These days, sans travel, if I’m up early in the morning I can actually hear the 1010wins jingle running through my head. I usually check out their website because they have a column called “Strange but True”. I love things like that, and I look forward to the column everyday, because it always is strange…but true.
My favorite news story of the week: Jesse James has affairs with 4 women, possibly as high as 11.
If I were Sandra Bullock, I’d be scrubbing my vagina with a brillo pad and raiding CVS of all the fungacide on their shelves. I might even take a bath in paint thinner and then hose myself off with molten lava. Have you seen some of the women this guy hooked up with? If Sandra ends up with anything less than 4 STDs, I think she should thank God for being kind.
Every child of the 80s, and many of the 90s, knows of Cary Elwes. Maybe you didn’t know how to spell his name correctly. That’s ok. I only just learned how to spell it, and I still don’t think I pronounce it correctly. I turn the “w” of his last name into some sort of mumbled “long u” sound, and hope for the best. Actually, I think I do that for most British actors and actresses.
As the years start to whiz by faster (not fast enough until I can retire), I am trying very hard to look for some kind of sign that better times are just around the corner. A happy ending is waiting to unfold and I can stroll off into the sunset and know I have lived a rewarding and meaningful life.
Yes, you have heard right. Throughout the universe there live a small, but virile, population of heterosexual men who need to watch the Twilight Saga’s latest besmirchment of the classic vampire movie, New Moon. These aren’t the normal “I have to watch it because my girlfriend/wife wants to see it”, either. That is an obvious group of men which have been around for ages, since the first man fell asleep at an opera house, or a Barbra Streisand concert, or a cave drawing exhibition.
I have never been fond of monkeys. As a matter of fact, I have thought of them as evil creatures ever since my childhood. They share a special place in my psyche with clowns, cats, and carnies. They just scare the piss out of me.
So coming across stories that serve to compound this view never helps matters.
Celebrity deaths are a weekly or monthly event, and they seem to have taken on a life of their own. There are the careers of the celebrities in question, and then there are their deaths, which in many cases, are more worthy of a story than their original careers.
Pop culture rumors of celebrity deaths do not help either. For some reason, I seem to remember Ernest Borgnine dying three or four times, only to discover that he is still alive. A couple of years ago, I was not so shocked to learn of the heroin-induced death of Ronnie James Dio. The real shock came a few weeks later when I learned HE was still alive.
I keep seeing these commercials for life insurance in between my viewings of the Patty Duke Show and Mr. Ed on my favorite converter box channel. I never really grasped the need for life insurance. I mean – Yeah, I understand that it would provide cash for people (survivors they are called, as if they were ever in danger of a heart attack that I would suffer) that I would be leaving behind. The problem there is that I need every penny to pay bills NOW. Besides, it just seems obscene to me to be socking away money for a particular moment in time wherein I would never be able to spend it – Ever! AFLAC, I get. That provides some money for real expenses like bills, groceries, cigarettes – you know – real things that are needed in daily life if, for some reason, I were unable to drag my miserable shape into the toy company and tap out a few package designs for any extended period of time.
In a time where the governments and the general public are hot on the heels of the banking corporations, trying to instill more transparency into their dealings, it seems one ATM machine manufacturer has other ideas.
Some bright spark in the marketing department of ATM suppliers, ‘Bank Machine,’ has hit upon the concept of offering Cockney Rhyming Slang as the language of choice for its users.