Monday, October 30, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Being forced to wear a hat that makes you look like a handjob is all part of the job when you're an actor, it just goes with being a professional pretender or make-believe artist as some call themselves. But Jonathan Crombie hated the hat he had to wear in Anne of Green Gables so much that he smuggled it back to his trailer on the set and took a massive shit in it. The hat does not reappear in the film, but he does continue to wear a stupid expression on his face and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. For some reason these two seemingly unrelated things worked in harmony to score him the sweet virginity of Anne Shirley. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen until the second movie, Anne of Avonlea, when everyone meets up at the Gables for a giant, drug-crazed fuck-fest. I suggest skipping the first movie and diving straight into Anne of Avonlea as there are more milk white breasts and hairy triangles of death than you can shake a stick at.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Anyone out there got a death wish? Huh? You looking at this fucking color guard? You better not be unless you want to get stabbed with one of this swords or take a nice rifle butt to the skull. You take a butt-strike to the chin and you are going to be knocked the fuck out, it doesn't matter if the gun is yellow and made of plastic, these individuals wield it like it's the real thing. See those swords? They aren't sharp and they have plastic knobs on the end but they can still carve your still-beating heart right out of your cowardly chest. You know, if it comes to that. Being in a color guard isn't just about twirling shit around, it's about maintaining some ground and fighting to the death to protect it. Even if it is just a twelve square-foot section of basketball court near the free throw line. The color guard has the duty and the priviledge to be a force of power and prestige within an academic institution, and they alone have the cajones to repel attacks from rebel forces. You might ask where the color guard was at Columbine, and that would be a fair question, but no... fuck you! That color guard was out on the track practicing one arm take-downs and shoulder rolls. They were blasting Metallica's One so fucking loud they couldn't hear the gunfire. If they had, that day would have ended very differently. The trench coat mafia would have themselves the victims of a fullisade of vicious butt-strikes and twirling streamers, all delivered with the precision and grace which are the trademarks of a high school color guard. I hope for your sake that you never make the mistake of referring to a color guard team a 'dance team.' They are para-military squads that move under the clever guise of unoffending synchronized dancers. What better way to infiltrate, assess and eliminate?
Friday, October 06, 2006
Esmirelda is the new employee who has been hired into the pricing department. She has two cats, a blue Nissan Tercel and chronic bad breath. She came to the company from the State Health and Welfare Department where she spent fifteen years adjudicating disability claims. Her coworkers at HWD were happy to see her go, mostly because of the promotion, but also because her unpleasant halitosis made working conditions difficult. They often left Lifesavers and other various breath mints on her desk, but she never seemed to get the hint. Esmirelda likes to chew on pens and she brought a collection of them from HWD, so folks, watch your ballpoints! She is a welcome addition to our company and we will all do our best to make her comfortable here. Hopefully, her godawful fucking breath will chill the fuck out so we all don't die.