Smoke and Mirrors

*Am I the only one that finds it mildly ironic that Ted “Chappaquiddick” Kennedy
gave the Obama’s a Portuguese Water Dog?
Kennedy supposedly owns three.
Where were they when he needed them?
Wwwwwwoof.

*Here in the US of A we give free needles to junkies and
charge diabetes patients up the wazoo for the same damn needles.
Huh?
Someone pinch me.
I must be dreaming.

*In Massachusetts, I saw a headline today that read –
Study: Tobacco funds not curbing smoking
Turns out that only $13.5 million of the annual $700 million the Baystate receives
was used for smoking cessation programs.
Well, yank my doodle, it’s a dandy.
You gotta be kidding me.
Where’s Nancy ‘MadDog’ Lugosi?

I mean Pelosi.
She’s gotta have a hand in this somehow.
What an ugly woman, inside and out.
And those choppers . . .
Nancy needs to be promoted to ‘Subterranean Truffle Inspector’ tomorrow.
Beech.

*The groundbreaking and intellectually provocative Hannah Montana movie hit theaters over the Easter weekend grossing over 34 million dollars.
For your entertainment ‘bang for the buck’ wouldn’t staying home watching the grass grow be a bit more stimulating?
It’s probably me . . .

*Tiger Woods lost in the final round of the Masters yesterday due to a pair of late bogies.
Why does this not make me feel bad?
I must be a rotten human being.

*And lastly, I thought Gmail’s *new feature ‘Auto-Pilot’ sounded really cool.
But it was only available on April Fool’s Day. {sigh}

Just my mind at play folks . . .

I have no idea what the fine folks at Ben & Jerry’s are smoking these days but they have some of the tackiest advertisements for ice cream that my eyes have ever had the misfortune to read.
The ads are so cutesy they make me want to stir fry a litter of Chihuahua’s.
Well, almost.
I hear they taste just like chicken.
Ice cream in January around here is almost as enticing as a hot cup of soup on the 4th of July.
It just doesn’t make meteorological (or logical) sense.
Like these Ben & Jerry’s ads.
I saw an ad at B&J’s a month or so ago for one of their frozen concoctions called ‘Whirled Peace’.
Ugh.
Gag me with a maggot.
The proverbial turd floating in the crapper was something I happened to notice last Tuesday.
Are you ready?
Get your tie-dye barf bags out.
The flavor du-jour (I didn’t even bother to see exactly what it schwas) was something called, ‘Yes, Pecan’, in honor of the big O’s inauguration.
Yes, Pecan?
You have got to be shitting me.
Lame, lame, lame.
Well, smack my ass an call me Betty, who was the slogan-making machine that penned that one?
They should be brought out to pasture and neutered.
Over the years, slogans have always managed to catch my attention, especially when they’re real bad.
(like B&J’s)
I found a few funny things floating in cyberspace regarding slogans gone over to the dark side:

• Clairol introduced the “Mist Stick”, a curling iron, into Germany only to find out that “mist” is slang for manure.
• Colgate introduced a toothpaste in France called Cue, the name of a notorious porno magazine.
• Coors put its slogan, “Turn it loose,” into Spanish, where it was read as “Suffer from diarrhea.”
• Scandinavian vacuum manufacturer Electrolux used the following in an American campaign: “Nothing sucks like an Electrolux.”
• When Gerber started selling baby food in Africa, they used the same packaging as in the U.S., with the beautiful Caucasian baby on the label. Later they learned that in Africa, companies routinely put pictures on the label of what’s inside, since most people can’t read.
• The Coca-Cola name in China was first read as “Ke-kou-ke-la”, meaning “Bite the wax tadpole” or “Female horse stuffed with wax”, depending on the dialect. Coke then researched 40,000 characters to find a phonetic equivalent: “ko-kou-ko-le”, translating into “Happiness in the mouth.”
• In Taiwan, the translation of the Pepsi slogan, “Come Alive With the Pepsi Generation,” came out as “Pepsi Will Bring Your Ancestors Back From The Grave” in Chinese.
• Also in Chinese, the Kentucky Fried Chicken slogan, “Finger-Lickin’ Good” came out as “Eat Your Fingers Off.”
• Frank Perdue’s chicken slogan, “It takes a strong man to make a tender chicken” was translated into Spanish as “It takes an aroused man to make a chicken affectionate.”
• When General Motors introduced the Chevy Nova in South America, it was apparently unaware that “No Va” means “It Won’t Go.” After the company figured out why it was not selling any cars, it renamed the car in its Spanish markets to the Caribe.
• Ford had a similar problem in Brazil when the Pinto flopped. The company found out that Pinto was Brazilian slang for “Tiny Male Genitals.” Ford pried all the nameplates off and substituted “Corcel”, which means horse.
• When Parker Pen marketed a ballpoint pen in Mexico, its adds were supposed to say, “It Won’t Leak In Your Pocket And Embarrass You.” However, the company mistakenly thought the Spanish word “embarazar” meant embarrass. Instead the ads said that “It Won’t Leak In Your Pocket And Make You Pregnant”

The psychology of slogans fascinates me.
And come to think of it, after reading these, maybe Ben & Jerry’s isn’t so bad after all.
Bite the wax tadpole?
Evyl must have had something to do with that one . . .

I have caught up on most comments and commented on many blogs.
But I will admit, I have been a bad blogger lately.
Not the worst but definitely not the best.
A very long work week combined with a busy life in general has grabbed me by the cojones.
I am taking a vacation starting at 6PM tomorrow. (EST)
I will be around and plan on posting a few things during the week but, in the words of the AWB,
I have work to do.
I thank all of you for the visits and the comments.
I will visit my folks on the blogroll as well.
No worries.
See you all on the flipside of the blogosphere.
Gonna take Frankie’s advice for now . . .

I was on the commuter rail tonight and thought about this song as I listened to it on my Ipod.
Elton John was sadly prophetic back when the album “Caribou” came out.
This song is more timely now than when it was originally released.
Sad.
Listen to the words, people.
Just listen . . .
~m

Someone mentioned this video yesterday and I found it online tonight.
Got several things to say.

#1 - This guy (aka “rapping artist”) has his name right by definition but he spelled it wrong.
#2 – I’ve seen steaming piles of horseshit that have more poetic prowess than this gasbag.
#3 – “Relevant” just doesn’t quite rhyme with “President”, IMHO. Sorry, Luda
#4 - You even irritate Obama. (go figure)
#5 - “So you get off your ass black people, it’s time to get out and vote!” – Ludacris

You be the judge.

Got one thing to say to Ludicris;

End of story.
I rest my case.
The moral of the post?
Get Ray and Stevie to give you political musical props.
You’ll do much better in the long run.
This is pretty funny too . . .

Now and then a special song comes along and stops you in your tracks, much like this one.
I talked with my sister on my ride into Boston yesterday and she asked if I’d heard this song by John Mayer. I hadn’t.
She sent me a link and I checked it out late last night when I got home from a long, long day.
I like most of what Mayer does and this is no exception.
Truth be told, I think he wrote this song for me . . . a nice little Father’s Day present from my sister, Maureen.
I looked for a decent video and thought this one was alright.
Better than staring at a static screen for 5 minutes.
Happy Father’s Day to all the Dad’s that visit today.
Enjoy the music

So much has been made about the Pats/Indy game this afternoon that I had to put up something here.
My daughter Sarah gave me a heads up on an article written by Gregg “sour grapes” Easterbrook of ESPN, a scathing article regarding his views on the New England Patriots and how he considers them essentially skum of the earth. (he fails to mention anything positive regarding the Pats, the gasbag)
I’d copy and paste some of what this queen wrote but it really pissed me off.
The hyperlink is above if you want to read it.
Let’s hope Gregg pulls his head out of his ass in time to watch the game. Putz.
Searching around the net, I did find an article that at least had a bit more truth in it.
It’s from the Providence Journal: Good vs Evil?
Much better article in many ways with much less biased bullshit.
Bottom line is this: two great teams + two great coaches + two great quarterbacks = a great afternoon of football.
Period.
It’s human nature to create nasty personal controversy but IMHO, it ultimately clouds the bottom line.

Peyton Manning Current Stats

TDS: 13
INT: 3
YRDS: 1,833
QB RTNG: 102.9

Tom Brady Current Stats

TDS: 30
INT: 2
YRDS: 2,431
QB RTNG: 136.2

No controversy over who’s having the better year.
While the country is surprisingly divided over who will win today one fact remains; these guys will see each other come January.
Let’s leave the “good vs evil” equation to the court system and watch some great football.
And Me? My money is on “Lord Vader” Belichick’s horde of hoodlums.
I suppose it’s time to watch a new lame Peyton Manning commercial but it’s a better time to kick back and rock and roll.
Hmmm, I wonder if Manning is up for the Noble Peace Prize this year?

~m

ps. for a rrrrrrrreal good laugh, Google “I hate Gregg Easterbrook“

I remember the day vividly; there were crystal blue skies, warm and ample sunshine, comfortable temperatures, a picture perfect fall day in New England.

The date was September 11, 2001 and I was just getting into work (selling pianos at the time) when the phone rang.
It was my friend Colin, a piano technician from the store where I worked calling to tell me he’d heard on the radio that a plane had just flew into the World Trade Center in NYC.
It must have been a terrible accident we both agreed, a freakish malfunction of an old turbine perhaps, a minor incident but nevertheless a tragic loss of life of strangers neither of us would probably ever know.
At the time, it seemed safer thinking of it that way.
It was a small plane, Colin said and that made me feel better.
Fewer people meant fewer casualties in a city the size of New York.

After I hung up the phone, it occurred to me that something didn’t seem quite right about the conversation. Couldn’t put my finger on it but something was wrong.
I knew it and Colin knew it, we just didn’t want to say it.

I mean, planes just don’t fly into buildings, do they?

My question was promptly answered when the phone rang 15 minutes later.
It was Colin again sounding a bit nervous.

Another plane? Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on? I asked.

He went on to tell me that both of the towers were hit and that it looked like we were at war.

War? I thought, With who?

I went outside and looked up into the sky for a sign that the world was still alright and all I saw was the endless crystal blue of the atmosphere but I noticed something else; there was an eerie stillness and silence hanging in the balance.

Word got around quickly that the US had been attacked as we began adding words to our daily lexicon: WTC, 9-11, Atta, Al Qaida, Al-Jazeera . . .

The dark truths would begin to bleed through the seemingly impenetrable fabric of our lives virtually changing all of us, forever.

The phones started ringing at the store . . . but not from customers.
The calls were from wives to husbands, sons to mothers, sisters to brothers – with one simple question; are you okay?
By noontime the phones stopped ringing and business ceased as the United States was brought to its very knees.

I can’t help but think of the same three words I thought on that horrible day: God Help Us

I still pray for all that we lost that day; the brilliant lives, our {unjustifiable} innocence and our shattered sense of {false} security.
We were too blind for far too long.

My words describing that day are still woefully inadequate but my thoughts and feelings of incomprehensibility are still so incredibly tender and raw.

I want badly to forgive but I still can’t.

God Bless all those we lost.

As Annie said, turn those headlights on . . .

~m

About “No Reservations” . . .

I’ve read some bad film reviews in my life but nothing can top what folks are saying about this rotten turd of celluloid.
Just had to share this.

“No Reservations” has garnered comments such as this from
Shawn Edwards of Fox TV:

“The most delightful film of the year!”

and from Bonnie Laufer of Tribute TV

“Irresistible and charming. The PERFECT DATE movie.”

and from Gene Shalit
(Does anyone really believe this mustachioed whackjob anyway?)

“A Pleasure”
(thank, Gene. Now take care of the caterpillars mating on your forehead)

I want to set the record straight with a few choice comments from a weekly paper here in Boston. You can click HERE to get to the WeeklyDig but right now the site is suspiciously under construction. [BRB]
I’ve read reviews here before and have to say they’re usually outrageous and downright true.
And no, I haven’t seen the movie, but damn, this was funny . . .
Here are a few choice comments from David Wildman of the Dig:

“Catherine Zeta-Jones and Aaron Eckhart go through the motions of pretending to be real humans with actual feelings, all the while displaying the depth and emotional resonance of the underwear models in a Sears circular.”

Nice.

“Watching this film is the cinematic equivalent of taking that dreadful feeling you have just before you know you’re going to barf and prolonging it for 90 minutes.”

You know that feeling?

Wildman goes on and on but I think you get the point; do yourself a favor and take No Reservations off your menu immediately before someone else gets sick.
Just wanted to save you a few bucks.
Hey, there’s always NetFlix, right?

~m

“Hey, Dave, what’s up with that healthy glow? What happened to your good old pasty, cadaver-like complexion?”

{Dave laughs}

“Oh, Bill. I had a nice and relaxing visit at the Clean as a Whistle Colonics Spa this weekend and man, I feel grrrrreat!”

In the not too distant future this could conceivably be a normal conversation at the office water cooler . . . or not.
I know, you’re wondering where the hell I’m going with this right?

Now and then I see an article in the paper that sends my “Pinch me, I must be dreaming” meter into orbit.
Yesterday, an article in the Metro on colonics sent me to Pluto.
Now I’m back to give you a report.

Colonics; the infusion of water into the rectum by a colon therapist to cleanse and flush out the colon

They better damn well use the Evian with me. {sniff, sniff}
In fact, make it a double.

It’s essentially an expensive enema for folks with nothing better to do with their money than, well, shove it up their bum.
I’m sure it has substantial health benefits and all that stuff but come on.
How far can something like this really go?
I get my prostate checked once a year and I still feel dirty 6 months later so from a psychological standpoint what in God’s name would one of these treatments do to me?
I’d have to sign up for rectal therapy.
Sheesh.

Anyway, it just struck me as an interesting service but how the hell could you promote it without laughing?

Maybe I’m ahead of the curve here but I’ve come up with a few choice names for establishments offering this procedure.
In a span of 20 minutes I came up with over twenty names (which was half the fun).
Here are a few names I really liked:

• Roto-Colon, Inc.
• Gee, my ass smells terrific
• Coffee, Tea or Champagne enema?
• Colon Blow Ranch {courtesy of SNL}
• The Lush Flush Salon
• G.I. Tract Joe’s
• Colon Bowlin’ Cleaning Service
• Tush Pushers Day Spa
• Backdoor Genie
• Tiny Bubbles
• Hose Monster {free tattoo with 3 irrigation sessions!}

Feel free to leave me a name or two.
Once you get started, the names just kinda flow . . . like water

~m

ps.
For those wondering why I’m posting less frequently, I spend most warm summer nights out on the deck with a cigar and my favorite brew taking me away from the computer.
I truly live for this time of the year.