Monday, February 18, 2008

Tiny Tidbits: Monday

1) So today is Presidents' Day and some of you may be off from work and/or saving an additional 15% on new hand towels. Surprise! I am too! Through the magic of funemployment, I've gotten to celebrate a shitload of Prez Days. Just last week, I took the time to memorialize Martin Van Buren and Franklin Pierce, two men elected during ye olden days when you could be President if you were one of the eight or nine people who knew how to read and owned two pairs of pants.

2) As I twittered last week, the postal demon delivered the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue on Valentine's Day. Thank you, Mailphistopheles. Nothing made me feel better about spending VD alone, eating a can of Beefaroni and cleaning out my lint trap (not a euphemism, although it should be) than seeing pictures of flawless bikini-clad women with tits the size of Mini Coopers dangling from their sternums. I also failed to appreciate the pages where their Grand Tetons had been painted to look like bathing gear. Only models can pull that off; if I stepped out of my apartment covered in paint, someone would call the authorities, assuming that I'd wandered away from the Adult Education Center.

Respect to 'em, though, for figuring out how to rock the wearable art... Within ten minutes of being brushed, my paint* would be smeared and flecked with dog hair as I debated whether I could still eat the pigment-coated Sour Patch Kid I'd dropped onto my chest. Perhaps this is why SI hasn't called me. That and the fact that when I take my shirt off I look like E.T.

3) Every day on our walk, Pigpen and I pass a travel agency that advertises their destinations not with actual photographs but with horrible little paintings of islands and sunsets**. I'm not sure whether the owners don't actually leave their homes or if the biz itself caters to virgin travelers, the kind of people who could be dropped off in the Home Depot greenhouse and told "Bienvenidos! You're in Brazil!

4) Again, walking Pigpen, I saw a dude I know from the gym--well, I saw his face anyway--blown up and slapped on a billboard advertising something innocuous, like a doctor's office or a mortgage company or The ManHole Dance Club & Gift Shop. I wasn't shocked to see him working as a pitchman 'cause I've always thought he was good-naturedly handsome, like the son of Richard Gere and a Golden Retriever.***Anyway, when I saw him on Saturday morning (in person), mentioned the 'board and made some joke about his modeling career, he racked his weights and said, "Yeah, that's just a something I've been into for 14 or 15 years". For some reason, this made me like him less.

5) Finally, Nate--one of my fave blogsmiths--tagged me with this meme last week and because I've been so busy with all of the President's Days, I'm just now hitting it. You're supposed to open a book to page 123, find the 5th sentence, and then type the next three sentences. I'm not sure what this ritual does but if it summons Candyman, I'm going to be pissed.

The book I'm currently reading is One Train Later by Andy Summers, guitarist for the Police. Here are his insanely long sentences:

"The drugs make you love everyone and everything: you reach out to spout little bits of spiritual wisdom and knowingly smile at one another...this is the sixties...this is our time...the lights from the Whiskey swirl across our faces and I feel happy--blissful, stoned. I pull a young girl closer, and Eric turns to me with a scared look on his face and says, "Help me man, I forgot who I am--you gotta help me." We go outside and sit in the Sting Ray for an hour as I guide him back down from the narcoticized altitude that he is cruising in: no face, no name."
There was a time when I thought that Andy was the best looking member of The Police, but unfortunately, now he looks like a lawn gnome. So I've switched my affections to drummer Stuart Copeland because, honestly, I think Sting may be a Replicant.

*I would not be painted with a bikini. The artist would most likely go for something more full-coverage, like overalls. Or a prison jumpsuit.
** I think it's supposed to be a sunset. It could just as easily be cat vomit.
*** This is a union that may have actually happened.


survivingmyself said...

That and the fact that when I take my shirt off I look like E.T.

hahaha! aww man, c'mon! There is no way that's true.

Please tell me that's not true?

ashley said...

That mag will be the death of us all. Burn it please. Ha. :)

pinkjellybaby said...

i'm not sure i could even contemplate a swimsuit issue of anything... you're braver than I!

CLARE. said...

Sure, you look like E.T. If E.T. had an awesomely cut torso.

J-Money said...

Surviving: My heart doesn't glow as often, but other than that...

Ashley: No worries...I stuffed it immediately inside an empty Chef Boyardee can and chucked it out of my life.

PJB: No, I think you're way smarter for not checking them out.

Clare: ET was pretty fit... his ribs were ripped.

Anonymous said...

Apropos of absolutely nothing, my mom had a series of "Presidential Cookbooks" when I was growing up.

As a little kid I would peruse the presidents and make judgments on their character based on their choice of hard pudding and whether or not they used duck lard. My personal favorite president is James Polk. That man knew how to frost a cake (and that is not a euphemism for uh...well frosting the cake).


dmbmeg said...

I was at a bar on Saturday night watching Dwight Howard dress up as Superman when a little special of the SI Swimsuit came on the tv. Every guy in the bar, including the ones at my table, became transfixed on the fake wobbly bits.

Lemmings. All of them.

J-Money said...

Keb: I have just resolved to bring more duck lard into my life. Also hard pudding.

dmb: Maybe the problem is that mine are less wobbly, more bony.

aarontodd said...

I guess I'm a dick... cause I want to point out that it is "Boa vinda! You're in Brazil!"... not that anyone cares... which makes me more of a dick I guess...

margottt said...

is it weird that I think i'd digg being painted?!
i'd rather it be in an art context rather than a 'guys read my magazine and make the pages stick together' context

J-Money said...

Aaron: No, that's good to know. "Bienvenidos" is pretty much the only Spanish word I know, save for "perro". Saying "Welcome, dog!" serves absolutely no purpose.

Margott: I could probably go for it too, depending on who was holding the brush. coughcoughHughlauriecoughcough

aarontodd said...

yeah... Bienvenidos is correct for Spanish... but they speak Portuguese in Brazil... which is just plain odd cause Portugal is so small and Brazil is so big compared to the other South American countries... not that anyone really cares... I'm full of useless information... it has gotten me far in life I just recieved an associates degree in "transfer" at 25...from the same community college that I got my G.E.D. from. I wish I could get a bachelors in Transfer... and then maybe my Doctorate in "transfer"... then I could just do what ever I want... one day brain surgery... another.. professor in English... or psychology... who know the possibilities would be endless.

Call Me Kp said...

Nothing made me feel better about spending VD alone, eating a can of Beefaroni and cleaning out my lint trap (not a euphemism, although it should be) than seeing pictures of flawless bikini-clad women with tits the size of Mini Coopers dangling from their sternums.

Um. You're brilliant. And I cannot stop laughing.