All Hallow's Eve's Eve

I've been thinking about my Halloween costume since probably January, but didn't make my final decision until last week. I started working on it last night, which means I've got a lot of work once I get home tonight. I'm not going to tell anyone what it is just yet, so you'll have to wait until the annual Lucky 7's costume contest on Friday.


I will be defending my Costume Contest Championship, though I'll be honest, I'm not as confident this year. I won as Voltron in '07 (just over Zac's Pee-Wee Herman, I believe), and my Hacksaw Jim Duggan was second to Bob Ross in '06. Nostalgia clearly reigns supreme at Lucky 7's, but this year I am taking a different direction. All I will say is that my costume will appeal to a sense other than purely visual this time.

Not that I wasn't considering the nostalgic route. My second choice last year, Teen Wolf Too, was also my second choice this year. I Netflixed it though last week and was reminded of how terrible the film and the character was. I don't think it will make it to the brainstorm board next year, regardless of how hairy I am. (The brainstorm board, by the way, is my Far Side calendar, which is still stuck on October 2007.)

Another possibility was Rocky, since I already have the Red, White, and Blue Balboa trunks. And the Robeastress could easily be Adrian, but that wouldn't be much fun for her. Plus, my beard limits me to Training-in-Siberia Rocky (IV).



Not that T.I.S. Rocky isn't awesome, but the beard and the shorts never happened at the same time, and I'm a stickler for historical accuracy (despite Rocky IV's silly Cold War rhetoric). Plus I'm just not ready to shave my beard yet because I'm going to Seattle next week and I don't want to look like a tourist.

I'm happy with my costume anyway. Win or lose, nothing will top the mighty victory kiss I received last year from Rosie the Riveting Future RoBeastress.


USA! USA!

Let's Play Funny/Not Funny

Funny:
Frank the Pizza Man is running for Councilman in Jersey City.

Not Funny:
Frank the Pizza Man is trying to "articulate" his "platform" on JCList.


Funny:
Plowing Mud Forever covers a billboard advertisement with its own stickers, intending to both thwart the trend of yuppie overcrowding in Jersey City and promote its performance at the 4th Street Art & Music Festival.

Not Funny:
Plowing Mud Forever neglects to read the 4th Street Art & Music Festival press release which mentions the billboard size "ad" that fellow local artist Steve Dressler is displaying for the exhibition.


Funny:
Getting to eat all the leftover candy my company gives me to hand out for Halloween, after 0 Trick-or-Treaters show up at my doorstep.

Not Funny:
"While I am very proud to announce that for the first time in company history we have 0 cases in remaining inventory for this selling season, unfortunately that does not allow us to do a desk drop to colleagues... Again, sorry. Have a safe Halloween."


Funny:


Not Funny:


Ok, that was funny.

Overheard on the sidewalk last night...

Father: Boo-hoo-hoo, your face is blue.
Son: Boo-hoo-hoo, your face looks like poo.

It reminds me of the time I said to my father, "If you were in Octopussy, you'd be the pussy." Being 6 or 7 at the time, I wasn't yet aware of all the connotations of "pussy" (I meant it like sour puss), but I'm glad I said it. James Bond would have been proud.

HORSE APPLES!

d00d n00dz

This is not the semi-retroactively-plagiarized post I promised last week, nor the epic magnetic toy post that I have yet to promise to post (unless you count that as a promise). This blog will be both a publicly unproposed, yet positively plagiarized post, followed by a sketchy sketch request from an original artist of a potential plagiarist.

First, yet another slanderous scoop that I've been beaten to tenfold--the accusation that Dean Graziosi, late night financial and real estate infomercial author and bullshitter, is actually a woman. I know you've heard this sob story from me a thousand times recently ("I've been saying this for a while, just never posted it, blah blah blah, wah wah vomit"), so just go read the testimonials from the internetskis. It seems that a lot of folks were thinking the same thing as me.

Personally, I don't care if dude looks like a lady or vice versa, I just think this distracting issue needs to be officially addressed by The Deaner so I can go back to believing I'm being deceived by your average scam artist regardless of their gender.

The other thing I wanted to post was a great way to make millions through tiny classified ads.

No, no, not really. I just wanted to post a sketch that a internet pal named Ashley made for me. She was offering up quick pencil drawings of folks, so I took her up on it, with a special twist--I wanted to be immortalized nude, on a bed of nails, surrounded by 3-legged collies. Amazingly, she did it!


If anyone wants to get this incredible scene tattooed on their back or etched into a gravestone, please don't forget to credit Ashley. And, no, if you're wondering, I did not actually pose for this sketch. The only person I know that owns a bed of nails is Wally Chung, and he wouldn't let me get naked on it.

For the second time this month

I was poised to post an awesome blog entry, but did a little research first and found that someone else beat me to it. Again.

http://brokeymcpoverty.wordpress.com/2008/10/03/the-white-al-sharpton/

I had been saying "The White Al Sharpton" every time I've seen that dude for the past couple months, but it doesn't matter. "If it's not in writing, it doesn't exist." I put this in quotes because, even though I've been saying this for a while too, a thousand other people beat me to publishing it on the Spiderwebs.

Brain to keyboard from now on.

I'll be back tomorrow with another entry that is retroactively plagiarized, sort of.

NO U

You say this:

But all I see is this:

What is my disorder? This is why I don't read anymore. I see letters and I automatically want to rearrange them. Is it some sort of dyslexia? Scrabblerackitis? Granted, I'm not really transposing any letters here, I'm just respacing them, but still. I can't be the only person that thinks it was a bad idea for these folks to start a food business with the word SHIT in the middle of their name.

I also refuse to pronounce PETSMART as "Pet Smart."


I prefer "Pets' Mart," like it's a market for pets. Which it is.


Your dog could be dumb, after all.

And now, two technical notes.

1. Blogger took it upon itself to underline the first sentence in this blog entry. Underline, as far as I can see, is not even an option in this text editor. There is bold, and italicize, but that's it. This means Blogger's underlining prank can't even be undone without going into the html editor and deleting the /u tag. Which I could do. But I'm not going to. I'm just going to bitch instead.

2. I'm also blocking all anonymous comments from now on. I received one the other day about a PETA bumper sticker post I made several months ago. It's not that I can't take the heat, it's just that I want to know who's in my kitchen. If you want to argue about abortion or animal rights, go right ahead. If you want to just call me names, please do. Just sign your fucking name, coward, so I can direct a brilliant retort back to you.

Waaaaaah.

Robeast Rollie Wuz Here

Some of my non-Wikipedia vandalism:

Biden forgot Poland!

Oh Shit!



Fortunately, Palin's debate team of Scriptwriters, Memorization Specialists, Beauty Pageant Coaches, and other assorted Brainwarshers must not have covered that in the 5-week Talk-Point drill-session, so I don't think this will be a serious setback.

Beauty and the Lame-Beast

An old friend from grade school and more recently, Myspace, made the big leap to Facebook today, attributing the social networking jump to "Retiring from MySpace."

I accepted his friend request, and responded with "Retiring, eh? Will you now be collecting Social Network Security?"

She Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth

I was going to make a quick post this morning about something I saw on the way to work this morning, but I didn't have the all-important picture to accompany it (no camera in the car strikes again). I did a quick search online for a usable related photo and ended up finding the exact blog entry I had planned to type myself...

Batesville Motel

I don't know why death is suddenly following me all around, but at least I'm not the only one.