Fruit of the Loom Guys Experience Spy Infiltration

Recent evidence has come to light that the Fruit of the Loom Guys-- the renowned mascots for a popular cotton underwear brand-- have been compromised by foreign entities posing among them, in order to obtain highly-classified information on comfort waistbands and non-wedgie fabric production.

Readers may already be familiar with Rory McIntosh (also known as "Apple")-- the popular lead singer of the Fruit Guys group-- and skilled backup men, Concord Jones (called "Purple Grape" to his fans) and Jimmy Niagara (stage name: "Green Grape").

But who is this figure with them, silently harvesting the sweet fruits of their labors?

Leif Romaine, also known as Ignacius Iceburg, Lenny "the Head" Lettuce, and George "Garnish" Wilson is believed to have been a plant in the Fruit Guys band from the very beginning.

Large sums of green sent to Mr. Romaine's bank account suggest that he was in the employ of the Adam & Eve Undergarments Inc., even while appearing with the Fruit Guys. His job, theorists indicate, was to root out the manufacturing strengths of the Fruit of the Loom brand, so it could be duplicated in the Adam & Eve factories at cost.

But Leif's fall from grace has hit the other members of the Fruit Guys hard.
In a candid interview with members of the band, the musicians indicate they feel soured on the whole system now.

"I had no idea something so rotten was going on right under our noses like that," said McIntosh.

"Guess it only takes one bad one to spoil the bunch," added Niagara philosophically.


But the band members insist that because the market is still ripe for their band's niche their music will only grow from this regrettable scandal.

"It all stems from our devotion to comfortable, affordable underwear," states Mr. Concord.

Now, Leif Romaine sits in prison, awaiting trial, in a small maximum security terrarium living on meager sunlight and water.
Lawyers for the accused currently offer no comment. Word on the grapevine is that he plans to plead "Innocent."

Kooky Clem's Oddity Attic

Howdy! Kooky Clem here! And welcome to Kooky Clem's Oddity Attic, your "one-stop source for the stuff wives won't let ya hang in the living room if company's a-comin'."

And hooo-WEE! Do I have some deals for you today!

Now, I know, y'all were saddened... ya were broken-hearted... ya were a-wailin' and a-nashin' because ya missed out on last month's 100% hand-crafted and original example of Renaissance oil paintin' art-- big eyed pig-dog with a Carol Channing wig. But like everything else here at Kooky Clem's, regrettably there was only one. And that one went to Mrs. Ralph Murdock of 15 Horny Hollow Road, Girty, Pennsylvania for the unbelievably low price of just $17.50.

I understand from Mrs. Murdock that, as we speak, this masterpiece on velvet is hanging proudly in her guest bathroom over the needlepoint tissue cozy on the back of the john in the shape of a Southern Bell doll.

So congratulations to you, Mrs. Murdock, on your selection of a fine piece of art that not only will give folks something to look at when they're on the can, but will only appreciate over time!

Whenever I flush, I will think of you and that painting.

But don't you other folks worry. Kooky Clem has two all-new deals for you! First, for those animal enthusiasts out there...

Ya say ya feel sad when ya see those big doe eyes of your average deer trophy a-lookin' down on ya from over the La-Z-Boy sectional.

Ya say ya still want to Bring the Outdoors In, and you want to make the sophisticated statement that only hanging dead wildlife on the wall can truly bring...

Well, do I have the solution to your problems! With this stylish new Deer Butt wall trophy, you reenact all the excitement of the hunt, with none of them guilty glass eyes staring at ya...

Yes, this astounding piece of once-living sculpture reflects the Native American's tradition for using every part of the animal. So, as those hippies in the press are so fond of sayin' these days, it's eco-friendly!

And just think of the conversation it'll spur on when you entertain yer guests on Coors 'n Cards night. Oh, yer friends... they know a good thing when they see it. So why not impress them all to hell with this slice o' deer ass artistic heaven?

Just $18 to ol' Kooky Clem, and soon when the neighborhood thinks "deer's patooti," they'll think of you, with this symbol of your good taste and refinement!

But, remember, there's only one available, so act quickly!

And if ya happen to miss out on that beauty, I have one last item today I think yer gonna just go a little bananas over...

See, what we have here is an original, gen-u-wine, authenticated with provenance like they have on that there Roadshow, plastic banana chandelier, once owned by none other than Calypso great himself, Harry Belefonte...
Why, you may not know it, but he wrote that there Day-O song for the Beetlejuice soundtrack about this very light fixture!

It's made of real polyurethane yeller bananas pressed in factories right in Jamaica. And it's wrapped with actual handpicked, handwoven hemp rope. So if Buck Duggan's little secondary crop hiding there in the cornfield gets spotted by the DEA choppers again this year, you still got yourself some options.

Yessir, this here is the original Electric Banana.

So don't wait! Come on down to Kooky Clem's and make us a deal! Our trained in-house interiors designer-- my wife Ruthie Mae Jane-- says something like this would work hella good in most any DE-cor, but it would compliment yer lava lamps and Skynrd posters real nice, in particulars.

And, hey, if you got something special on your wish list, don't y'all hesitate to drop me a comment and ask.

We got all sorts of amazing goods here in the Oddity Attic, some o' which we haven't seen ourselves in years, on account of our need for expansion and the layer of dust we mistook for our missing dog, Otis.

So if you have particular needs in the Oddity department, let us know and I'll set Ruthie up with the miner's hat, some protective gear, and a length of rope, and we'll dig it up for ya from one of our packed-to-the-rafters storerooms.

I look forward to assistin' you!

Dear Blabby

I don't know why I do it. But every day with lunch, I find myself reading the age-old advice column, Dear Abby. (The column is age-old; the advice appears just lightly dusty.)

Anyway, the more I read, the more a pattern has begun to emerge for me. So today-- using my Super Marketing Person Skillz (it's a little like Spider Sense, but doesn't use thought bubbles, and has a going rate of $50/hour)-- I have translated what the readers who write into Dear Abby would say if they truly communicated exactly what they meant.

I give you... Dear Blabby.


DEAR BLABBY: I'm writing in with a problem that isn't really a problem. So, "why bother?" you ask? Well, the reason I'm completely wasting your time is because yes, I know the answer already... But I want to use use your response as leverage to prove I'm right to my husband, my sister, my dog, and the mailcarrier who's gotten just a bit above himself. Normally, I use the opinions of my friend Marge (not her real name) and Esther (her real name, bummer for her). But after 40 years, my husband no longer cares what they have to say. Please publish my letter so I can passive-aggressively remind my husband I'm right, by cutting this out of the paper and tacking it to the refrigerator where it will yellow with age, as I have in the last four decades. —MRS. RIGHT IN BLACK AND WHITE


DEAR MRS. RIGHT- Your husband has already heard that this is coming. Your friend Esther told him. I know because she also wrote in to me, regarding the affair she's been enjoying for 40 years with her best friend's husband. Perhaps you would like to tack this to the refrigerator. Or share it with the marriage counselor you're about to call.


DEAR BLABBY: I have this problem that is entirely made up, just to test and see if I can make a fool out of you for responding to it. I've decided to include a nice mix of personal conflict, six of the 10 warning signs of domestic abuse, a remarkable lack of self-awareness, graffiti art addiction, and the custody of 20 orphaned emus. I will ask you whether my long-time, live-in boyfriend's airbrushing the emus with satanic symbols is harmful to my beloved birds, and whether you think this constitutes negligence enough that I should be awarded them in the commonlaw separation. I hope you won't notice the absurdity of the situation, particularly that anyone could truly love an emu. --GIVING EVERYONE THE BIRD


DEAR BIRD: I already let one in three joke posts go through as a joke on the people who are joking. Did you really think I didn't know MARRIED TO THE BLOB was a total farce? Or that SLEEPLESS IN SADDLE wasn't a complete practical joke? Oh, I know. But I publish them, anyway. How else do you think I get my material for this column in a time when when people have moved to Yahoo Answers as the premier place on the internet where you can ask the world moronic questions, only in real-time? Think about it. I take what I can get... So let's talk imaginary emu.


DEAR BLABBY: I'm a person who suffers from extreme insecurity in my decision-making skills so my friends, who are sick of hearing about every little stupid thing I need help on, have suggested I write you so they can have a break. Of course, with turnarounds in the newspaper, by the time I get an answer to my issue, that issue will be long-done and I'll be on to some other problem that I can't solve myself. Won't I? I'm not sure. What do you think? — DIRECTIONLESS IN DAKOTA

DEAR DIRECTIONLESS:
I've decided, in the interest of time, to give you the answers to your next five problems. Here they are: Talk to him. Make a list. Discuss this with your religious advisor. Don't buy the flame-thrower, you won't use it as much as you think. And 42. You're welcome.


DEAR BLABBY: It's been slow at the newspaper and you've received thousands of inquiries with poor spelling, lots of capital letters, and problems that are impossible to decipher without the person who writes the closed capitioning for the Jerry Springer show. So mine is the letter that was completely made up at the water cooler by three newspaper executives brainstoming ideas over some cold, high-quality H2O. We're hoping no one will notice. —ABBY NORMAL

DEAR MS. NORMAL- Yes, I'm aware. Because I'm you. But I'll try to treat you like anyone else who writes in just to flush out the column space. I'm considerate like that. So thank you for your question.... No, thank you... No, really, thank you.



Do YOU have a question for Dear Blabby? Just leave a comment below! Maybe she'll even respond before your divorce, your child runs away, or the family holiday is over.

Facebook Users Found Massacred in Mafia Wars

Of Cabbages and Kings Gazette-Post-Tribune-Press
by Shannon Maydup

UPPER PODUNK, MO-- Mary "The Homemaker" Johnson was taken into custody today, believed to be the Facebook Mafia Queenpin responsible for the slaughter of rival mob boss Carl "Double-Click" Willis, and members of his gang.

The Facebook Labor Day Massacre, as it has come to be known, began when both players in the popular Facebook Mafia Wars game got into a virtual territory dispute and "The Homemaker" used a secondary app to lob a horse's head at Mr. Willis.

The violence escalated to a series of taunting quizzes, poisoned virtual beverages and eventually led to a full-out physical assault by Johnson, busting into Willis' recroom with an unregistered AK-47 on the Labor Day holiday, leaving 22 picnic guests dead and seven critically wounded.

Ms. Johnson was reported as shouting, "That's for sending me that sad black sheep who needs a home for my Facebook farm app, jerk! Day after day, I had to look at that thing's stupid, sappy eyes and I couldn't give him away! So who's crying now, Double-Click? Who's crying now?"

Some Mafia Wars competitors are nervous.

Says Stephanie "the Knitter" Nelson, a first grade teacher and leader of The Needles crime family, "Today alone I saw two of my former high school classmates get iced, which is a real shame because our 20th year reunion was coming up next month. I'm not sure where it will end. Soon there'll be no one alive on Facebook to post about their lunch and stuff."

And under condition of anonymity, one Mafia Wars participant indicated he wants out and he's getting ready to flee the social media venue under an assumed name.

"I hear it might be safe over at Twitter. I get a new avatar, a new username... I keep an eye on any suspicious Followers, I block who I've gotta block... I might be able to make a new life for myself. We'll see."

But others remain swept up in the power and intrigue of the crime syndicates and plan to continue on their current path.

George "Mouseman" Evans, financial accountant and Facebook user, stated, "What, stop-- Me? Why? I just got made yesterday! Happened right between my toting up accounts payable and accounts receivable. I tell you, I've never been so proud. I had my microwave Spaghetti O's with a small bottle of Chianti just to celebrate."

Unfortunately, as of the time of publication of this story, Mouseman was found dead, face down in his microwavable lunch. Coworkers report he'd just been advising a woman he'd said he knew from college.

The case is currently under investigation.

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Today's Questions:

• Do you play Mafia Wars and every time you try to get out, do they keep dragging you back in?
  
• Have you ever found a horse-head in your bed-- or a lost sad sheep on your Facebook page?
  
• Do you think this is funny, do I look like a clown to you?... Or, say, Joe Pesci?
  

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What To Expect When You're Exorcising and Other Keyword Curiosities

"Evil baby growls"... Those are keywords that helped a single Google searcher reach Cabbages, time and time again...

If it were just once, I might toss it away in the ol' mental filing cabinet with other common searches like: "name of Rooster on Bugs Bunny and Tweety show" (that's Foghorn Leghorn, my friend)...

The "i spend too much time on the internet" cries of help (you can get it here, kind searcher)...

And the "office prank revenge" needs... (this way, folks, if you please)...

See, it's frustrating to me, because I know can assist these people! Google, oh Google, why must the discourse be so one-sided?

But my "evil baby growls" bud has come back to Of Cabbages and Kings every week or so, seeking out what must be assumed to be only the very rarest of evil infant information.

And every time the keywords crop up, I find myself wondering:

"Great Googly-Moogly, what the hell are you looking for, O Searcher?"

And wishing I could just ask.

Now, initially, I was thinking it might be a sound effect file for a video he or she is crafting...

Some YouTube bit where a beloved young'un tests the aerodynamic capabilities of Spaghetti O's after calculating angle of trajectory, distance, and air-sauce resistance... And then laughs maniacally, in a spine-tingling voice well beyond its years.

Family humor at its finest.

Ah, but now I'm starting to think that's just too simple. I mean, what do most people turn to the internet to look up? Why, health information, news, and mommy blogs!

I suspect this person has a demonically-possessed infant and is trying to tell what the different Evil Baby Growls mean.

Sort of the "What To Expect When You're Exorcising" handbook.

Oh yes, I can see it now:

Babies cries are very versatile. They may cry because they're hungry, they're wet, they don't feel well, or they just want attention. In the case of a baby that happens to be possessed by the Forces of Darkness, however, this adds an extra challenge for Mommy and Daddy to interpret. Sometimes, Baby's true meaning can be fairly subtle. For instance:

• "Rrrrrrrr, I'll swallow your soul!" can mean you need to use more Holy Water, or it can mean the baby is just hungry.

• The spitting of a split-pea by-product can mean the child needs a few more Latin explusion verses read over him or her by a qualified person of the cloth. Or that the child enjoyed Gerber strained peas for dinner, and it's backed up a little.

• "Mwaaahaaahhaaaathe End of the World is nigh, foolish mortals!" might mean the demonic minion inside your little bundle of joy is trying to undermine your courage. Or that those stewed prunes you gave him for supper are going to shortly cause you to evacuate the room.
  

Smart parents will learn to watch for cues to determine the cause of each, and adjust their actions accordingly.

So, I guess what it comes down to is this: I may never know what my "evil baby growls" searcher is looking for. But I hope, if he or she comes across this post, that the visitor will leave me a comment and let me know.

The curiosity is getting to be too much. And if it's the infant demonic possession? I'll be glad to hear it. Because this means there's a serious niche market on the web that needs to be filled, and I think I could be the one to write it!

All I'd need would be to interview a few pediatricians, a couple of clergy, and-- oh, maybe a Hazmat jumpsuit.


Have you folks had any search terms you've wondered about recently? I'd be glad for the laughs.
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In Honor of Towel Day: Office at the End of the Space-Time Correction Fluid Blob

Monday was "Towel Day" in honor of humorist, Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series. But I'm afraid I'm only getting around to celebrating it today...

Oh, it's not that I'm late, per se. It's just that the anomaly in the space-time continuum only dropped me off here now, two-days off schedule.

And it's funny, because the week had started out pretty much like any other.

I woke to the smell of coffee and struggled out of bed, per usual....

And I blessed my automatic-timed coffeemaker, set to deliver mind-clearing, bean-based Life, like any other day...

That's when I noticed the maker of java was there, levitating, four feet away in a bright green glow.

Strange, I thought. I'd had this coffeemaker for years and it had never levitated to my bedroom before. But that's what you get when you don't read the whole manual.

So I reached for the small appliance, hoping to guide it toward some mugs, as even a half-awake Me knows a handful of coffee is less tasty.

And that's when I ended up in a bright entirely white office kitchenette, standing by a giant coffeemaker with a large, hairy man peering down on me.

"Ah, you're here!" boomed the man. "Let's get cracking!"

"Here? Where's here?" I said, blinking at the room that was not my bedroom.

He raised an eyebrow that looked like a wooly-bear caterpillar on steroids. "Er... your workplace?" he prompted, bewildered. "Place of employment? The office? The 9-5? Grind? Biz? Firm? HQ?... The ad agency?" he added for extra clarification.

I glanced around at the piles of nondescript garbage piled around the kitchenette. Some of it was small and granular, some of it large and chunky, some in broken boxes, some just balled up on the floor. All of it, like the rest of the room, was white. "Funny. I don't remember it quite like this."

"Well, it's probably because of the Blob that went through here this morning," he said simply.

"The Blob?"

"Heh..." He glanced red-faced at his shoes and shuffled his giant feet, like a mountainous child who had something for his more mountainous parents to sign. "Er... we kind of made a Blob in the space-time continuum."

"A Blob."

"You see, we got a project to do, but the moment it was assigned, it already needed to be done yesterday. So in order to meet the deadline and get it done before we received it, we had to jigger things around a bit, space-time-continuum-wise. You know, blot out the day we signed the agreement, so we could go back and get the job done before it happened. And now there's this Blob over it. "

"A Blob," I said again, and it didn't improve for saying it thrice. I grabbed the pot of white coffee and poured myself a white mug, and took a deep revitalizing swig.

I looked around.

No, I was still here.

"It's little like working with correction fluid," the man went on affably, warming to the topic. "You can try to write back over it, but it's never quite the same, is it? It gets... lumpy."

I wiped the coffee from my mouth with the back of my hand. "Who are you?"

"I'm your coworker, Kitty," he said, with an injured astonishment. "Don't you recognize me?"

I peered up, up, up at the man. "Last I saw Kitty, she was female, 5-foot-nine, married, and had a new baby."

Kitty shrugged. "I'm Kitty 2.0."

"Where's the baby?"

"Teacup poodle. Named Rocco."

"And her husband, 'The Dude'?"

Kitty beamed. "He abides. We had a lovely barbecue last night."

"Great," I said. "My best girlfriend at work is now a six-foot-four, male, gay dog-lover, and I'm supposed to repair a Blob in the space-time continuum."

"Oh no," said Kitty quickly. "We don't need you for the repairs. We need you for some data cleaning. See all of this stuff?" Kitty motioned to the broken boxes and piles of sand-like dust and crumpled up balls of whatevers.

"Er, yeah..." I said hesitantly.

"Well, when you blot out a day with the space-time correction fluid, and then you brush off a bit of the excess Happenings, well, this is what you get."

I frowned at it. "Don't we hire a service for this?"

"These are all the extra occurrences that would have gone on during the day we had to overwrite," he explained, folding his arms and surveying the landscape. "So what I need you to do is some serious data scrubbing."

"That's not really my area of expertise," I said. Then I noticed I was still wearing my pajamas. "I'm also not dressed for it."

But Kitty just went on unconcerned, "Stack the Epiphanies, Revelations and Major Life Events here..." He patted the kitchenette countertop, "we'll want to sort through those and figure out where to tuck them in going forward.... And sweep up the Minor Annoyances, Watercooler Discussions, Mindless Television Watching and Sandwich Breaks over there into bags, for disposal."

"We're disposing of parts of peoples' days?"

Kitty waved it away. "Aw, they won't miss 'em. Especially since, technically, they never really happened. Good luck." And at this, Kitty thrust a broom and dustpan into my hand and vanished in a blip of light.

I recalled Kitty used to be more helpful than this.

Well, anyway, I swept up some Messy Confrontations, and was just reaching for a towel to sop up some Brainstorms, when, as soon as I touched that towel--

Poof! I ended up back here.

So, I apologize if I'm running a little behind. And as for celebrating Douglas Adams' holiday, I'm not entirely certain what to do for it. Perhaps I'll have a sandwich and a bath.

I think Doug would have really liked that.

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Entertainment Nanosecond's Gen Y Adventure Films of 2025

I was watching the movie Stand By Me the other night, where four kids in the 50s go in search of the missing body of a teen from their school.

And it took me back to being ten, and how my friend Susie and I used to find dead bodies all the time, and bring them back home and--

Oh, wait, no. Sorry. Wrong recording.

(Rewind. Press play.)

--How my friend Susie and I used to do all sorts of dangerous-fool things all the time, like play down by the railroad tracks where the crazy winos lurked...

Or drink canteens of polluted Jersey river water after a thirsty day of roaming through the woods alone with no way to call our moms...

Or get nose bleeds and mop up the blood with skunk cabbage leaves rather than go back home for tissues that actually didn't reek like Satan's undercarriage...

Stuff like that.

Yup, even in the 80s, we had a certain amount of freedom from the Parental Order of Juvenile Analysis and Nitpickery. Freedom to do stupid crap that would get us really injured or potentially kidnapped.

And we loved it.

It forms the basis for many a good tale.

So that got me thinking: what kind of stories will our most protected, connected generation to date-- Gen Y-- tell by way of nostalgic adventure?

Maybe something like this...


It's 2025. In your handheld, you've accessed Entertainment Nanosecond, the hottest online film and television venue, detailing every moment of every half hour a celeb is actually popular.

And here's this half-hour's 2025 Top Adventure Films by Gen Y Filmmakers of All Time for the Next 30 Minutes Maybe:

• Inside the Inside of the Inner World of Azeroth. Alone, pursued by orcs, low on supplies, and potential carriers of plague, two heroes face incredible dangers in a mystical realm. Then Justin and Reed log off of World of Warcraft 3000.

• Goonies Revisited. In this exciting remake of a remake of the 1985 film, young Mike Walsh steals his dad's PDA only to find a previously-undiscovered Easter egg facility on it bearing a Spanish map and clues to pirate treasure. He and his friends discuss what they would do in search of this treasure, if they could actually get a lift in the mini-van from one of their moms, to investigate.

• That Ming is Mine. Five high-tech thieves plot to steal a priceless Asian vase, and win the grand prize associated with this catburglary-based reality show. But what happens when each burglar expects to have the starring role?

• As the Eagle Flies- Action star Will Smith, Jr. unknowingly takes on a corrupt government when he becomes witness to a U.S. authorized assassination. He must flee from dangerous federal agents-- and his patriotic mother-- both of whom have secretly implanted GPS tracking into him.

• New-New York Brown and the Lost City of Bowled. Fighting angry natives, diabolical enemies and public transit snags, urban archaeologist New-New York Brown goes in search of the fabled abandoned bowling alley of Brooklyn.

• Point Bruise. In this subtle adaptation of the original Point Break, extreme sports, surfing, and criminal investigation come together as FBI agent and adrenaline junkie Johnny Montana balances his life, his caseload, and 200 pounds of required safety gear.

So what do you folks think we might see in our swash-buckling futures?

(No, no, put a safety blade on that scimitar, please... also a warning label... someone could get hurt, you know.)

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TV Commercial Mascots Fight For Personal Lives

TV commercial mascots everywhere are banding together for an increasingly common problem in their field-- a lack of individualism and personal lives.

Normally, the annual "Television Product Mascot Union Meeting and Expo" brings with it sessions such as:

• Shout About It: The Pros and Cons of Screaming Messaging Until You're Hoarse

• How Much Repetition Is Too Much How Much Repetition Is Too Much How Much Repetition is Too Much

• And What To Do When Consumers Love Your Products, But Loathe You

But at the organization's 2009 show, themed "Can You Hear Us Now?," things took an unexpectedly heated tone.

It began with the opening speech, where the well-known "Can You Hear Me Now?" rep for Verizon Wireless revealed that he was simply called, "Test Man" by the marketing execs who created him.

And that that lack of personal identity-- while good for the brand-- was deeply affecting his social life.

"Yes, it's true. I do feel inner pain when I receive mail to my home reading only 'Test Man.' I think I might have made a terrific 'Steve.' Or maybe a 'Doug.' But in the annals of history, I am only 'Test Man,' defined solely by my job for Verizon.

"What if I finally pop the question to the red-headed cutie of Glade Scented Candles? What will she be? Mrs. Test Man? Will we be the Glade-Testmans? These are important issues to resolve this conference."

Another mascot speaking out about these concerns is television's beloved GEICO Gecko.

"Yes, I've no name beyond 'GEICO Gecko.' I mean, sure, gents have speculated I might be Gary. And I do rather like Gordon... Gordon Gecko-- it has a nice ring, yeah? Aside from that bloke in that movie, Wall Street.

"But I think it's time the world saw I have interests beyond GEICO. I mean, it's very single-minded to think that all I care about is affordable insurance all day, every day. For instance, I'm learning the acoustic guitar.... I enjoy Karaoke Saturdays down the pub...

"It's said I do a fine rendition of 'Mandy.'

"That's not to say I dislike my job. The people are nice. The hours are good. And it keeps me in crisps. All I ask is that you shout, 'Oi, Gordon!" if you see me on the street, would you? I'd really fancy that."

In the past, commercial mascots have not only had names, but elaborate storylines running around their product-centric exploits.

Like Mr. Whipple, TP-obsessed supporter of Charmin Bath Tissue...

Rosie, the Bounty Lady, who knew the power of a quicker-picker-upper paper towel...

And Madge, the Palmolive manicurist, who's love of soft hands made the dishwashing soap famous.

"But, like, in recent years, it seems marketing execs have totally have dispensed with names," explained the Dell Dude, who is now working at the In and Out Burger Drive-Thru Window since getting out of rehab last year.

"Now we have those Charmin Bears doing the cha-cha thing and pooping in the woods. Does anyone know their names? Like, does anyone care? The world has changed, man. It's a total bummer."

Meanwhile, marketing executives from top advertising firms are livid about the perceived "mutiny" of their spokescharacters.

Said Chad Tatthawker from UltraMegaMondoMedia:

"This is an astounding betrayal. We gave them life. We made them what they are today. And now they want more.

"Well, let's just see how far they get without writers and producers and animators bringing them to life in 30-second to two-minutes spots. Let's just see who needs who here...

"Whom...

"Is it 'who' or 'whom'? Ah, hardly matters... I'm in television."

The "Television Product Mascot Union Meeting and Expo" will be running Monday, April 13th-Friday, April 18th.

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Introducing the NEW Review-in-a-Can from WowSham!

Today's Web is all about networking. And one way to get that attention you need from complete strangers is by writing reviews.

But-- oh-no!-- reviewing things the old-fashioned way means wasting valuable time actually watching the movie, reading the book or visiting the blog you want to talk about!

And that could get you all tangled up in new ideas... (Look out!)

Cut by sharp tongues...(Ouch! )

Or just plain slowed down from building your social empire. (Too slow!)

But now, you can change all that, the easy way! With WowSham's' New "Review-in-a-Can!"

With WowSham's "Review-in-a-Can" you won't lose critical time you otherwise need for espousing the wonders of click-fraud... scraping high-quality content... or sprinkling your site link like fertilizer on forums...

No! "Review-in-a-Can" uses patented Super-Saver Cliché technology to offer you the perfect generic review every time-- right out of the can. Choose from our wide selection of genres...

Like books...

"A classic for all time! Sure to be Oprah's next Book-of-the-Month!"

Movies...

"I laughed, I cried, I wet myself slightly..."

And even blogs...

"Nice blog! I will visit again and again. Would you consider exchanging links?"

All contained in our secret NASA-approved (this product not endorsed by NASA) packaging, so you know it'll always be safe-- and fresh!

And if you act now, and place your order within the next 3.5 seconds, you'll also receive our super-deluxe "Opinion-in-a-Can"!....

Don't want to take time to actually read and understand a forum discussion but still want to make a splash in the community? WowSham's "Opinion-in-a-Can" is the answer for you.

Like original Review-in-a-Can, Opinion-in-a-Can provides the perfect, instant, thought-free response, and comes in the popular communication styles forum-readers like most!

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Humorbloggers
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Bloggerella

How to Not Annoy Airport Security

With the holiday travel season coming upon us, we at Of Cabbages and Kings want to make your trips to visit family and friends as easy as possible. And--

No, we're not going to send you Valium to drop into the family punch bowl at Thanksgiving...

And no, we are not creating an Private Impersonations business, where someone poses as an exact likeness of you for holiday gatherings so that way you, meanwhile, can go off to sunny Puerto Vallarta, to enjoy surf, sand and coladas...

Nope, the way we plan to make your life easier, is by giving you some helpful tips for getting through airport security without annoying them-- and molesting you.

As you know, tighter security restrictions at airports all over the world have made us safer, more secure, and less likely to put plastic explosives in our shoes.

But with those restrictions, come new processes. And by knowing and understanding them in advance, you can help keep the line moving...

Get to your destination quickly and safely...

And avoid any embarrassing body cavity searches by large men with small flashlights.

Based on my own personal airport travel experiences, I offer you the following tips:
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HOW TO DRESS FOR AIRTRAVEL
When dressing to travel by air, it's helpful to think of yourself as a mental patient. How would someone in a dangerous psych ward have to dress? That's right-- no sharp objects, no metal, no sense of personal style. To be more specific...

Don't wear a belt. Belts can beep in the metal detectors and thus require you to be patted down and scanned by large men named Mongo. It is better to lose your trousers and moon citizens of 19 different countries, than it is to meet Mongo, who is in a bad mood because his own family is sitting down without him to a giant turkey feast as we speak, and his obnoxious cousin Ray is getting the drumstick. As alternatives to your traditional wardrobe, consider wearing:

• Sweats
• Draw string lounge pants
• Homer Simpson pajamas

All of these are appropriate airport wear, and will only cause people to giggle and point once you reach your final destination. In fact, just roll out of bed and go to the airport. Jeans and dress slacks have rivets and may need belts. So remember: they = Mongo

Don't wear a metal watch. You think you need to know the time regularly in order to make your connections. But this is really just a rumor. The metal wristwatch is the single largest reason metal detectors beep and passengers are taken into small backrooms by people dressed in black suits and sunglasses and then seen again 12 days later bruised and amnesic. So, does being able to track every little iddy bitty moment of your trip seem that necessary now? Somehow I bet it doesn't.

Forgo jewelry and metal hair accessories. "It's gold," you say, indicating your bling, and insisting the detectors will ignore it. Or "I need to see where I'm going," you reply, touching the barrette securing the bangs from your eyes.

Ah, but a single forgotten barrette going through security can mean the difference between making your destination, or spending quality time in a small glass booth in the airport. Sure, people may admire your name written in giant fourteen carat gold lettering under normal circumstances. But no one will be noticing it when you're pressing your nose against that glass booth , steaming up the window with your screams, wondering when someone, anyone, is going to scan you so you can make your plane.

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HOW TO PACK FOR AIR TRAVEL
Packing smartly for your trip can make things easier for yourself as you go through airport security.

Regarding bringing fluids with you. New airport regulations do not allow fluids in carry-on luggage over 3 ounce bottles in a quart sized Ziploc bag.

This means you must drain your entire body of blood and urine before passing through security. Every person walking through the secure area must be a dry husk by law, so they cannot possibly use their bodily fluids to build any sort of detonation device.

See, what you may not be aware of is, urine contains ammonia. And under the proper conditions, ammonia can be a very noxious gas. Dehydration is the only way to absolutely ensure everyone remains safe.

Remember to cut off all fluids two days before any air travel plans. Three ounce cup-sized beverages will be served on the plane.

NOTE: You will now be charged $10 for all three ounce cup-sized beverages.


Regarding Carry-on Luggage. Each passenger is allowed two pieces of carry-on luggage. One must fit under the seat in front of you. The other must be stowed in the overhead compartments.

Due to recent cutbacks, the size of the overhead compartments is now the size of a child's lunchbox. So remember-- your case must now be no larger than a nine inch by nine inch square.

Also, because recent flights may be overbooked, the seat width now comfortably fits actor Verne Troyer (AKA "Mini-Me"). You will want to slim down accordingly.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

HOW TO FOLLOW AIRPORT PROCEDURES
The process of getting through airport security is an important one, and it is as much about having the proper attitude as anything else.

The best overall advice I can give you is to approach all security agents as if you were approaching the Soup Nazi. Polite, forward-moving, quiet, and no unnecessary greetings to startle them...

Specifically, we recommend the following:

Don't wait for that elderly lady who tries to merge in front of you. You will "hold up the line." And security will yell at you for this. Politeness does not matter in our secure world of today. Run the elderly lady over.

Don't get too eager about going through the metal detector, even if you're the next in line. Stay next to your own items on the conveyor belt and walk with them until they are scanned. Or else, security will yell at you. Remember, you could inadvertently stand next to the belongings of a person who has the nerve to carry 6 ounces of shampoo instead of 3. And that is a threat to our nation.
_____________________________________________________________________________________

AIR-TRAVEL IS FUN...
And by following these helpful tips, we at Of Cabbages and Kings hope you will experience the exciting, smooth and probe-free holiday vacation experience you deserve.

Disclaimer: The information on this page is in no way accurate or represents anything even remotely related to current airport security guidelines. Please contact your local airport for real and for true guidelines, or to speak to the security officer named Mongo.

Thank you.

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Humor-blogs
Humorbloggers

Cult of Personality: Some Alternate American Icons for President

Few election years have made it more clear that the U.S. Presidential Race is not about issues, but about personalities.

As a country, we're busy people. We can't be bothered with those piddly details about how to handle war, environmental problems, energy conservation, future terrorism, or improve education for all children. No reason to, really-- not when we can boil it all down to anecdotes, pep rallies and high school yearbook quotes.

Yes, we owe it to ourselves to be able to skim for five minutes and make solid, unflinching decisions on the fate of our country for the next 4-8 years.

So while your blog hostess here at Of Cabbages and Kings doesn't claim to be a fine political mind, I was considering some alternate presidential candidates that should have been tossed out there. Ones, I think, who would have worked well in the Cult of Personality we're currently immersed in and who also have potential as popular, effective leaders.

I'll try to keep it brief, for maximum effectiveness.

• "David Palmer" AKA "President Allstate" from 24. Firm, smart, a great orator, and part of a rare breed-- an honest politician. Not only that, but he has previous presidential experience-- which yes, technically, should disqualify him from running this time around, but... work with me, people. Who didn't feel uplifted and inspired by watching him take command of our country, even during the terrorist attacks on 24? Okay, so, yes, he died tragically in that show, but I still see him on those Allstate Insurance ads. He looks pretty good for a dead guy. So I think he might rally. President Allstate would be my top candidate. Appropriate sound-bite: "...That's Allstate's, er, America's Stand. Now get me Jack Bauer and a tow truck."

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• "Earl Hickey" of My Name is Earl Fame. A dark horse candidate, Earl Hickey is down-to-earth, has a maverick approach to problem solving, and he get things done. In fact, he has a whole list of things to do, and he makes good on them-- more than we can say for most politicians. Sure, Earl has a past, but who doesn't? At least Earl is forthright about his. He believes in Karma, so that might not go over with the evangelical base, but Earl has a number of other things going for him. Like ex-wife Joy. Voters love a lady with sass, and they don't come sassier than Joy. Appropriate sound-bite: "Earl, I don't care what you say, Crabman and I are stayin' in the Lincoln Bedroom. You think they get QVC on the cable TV in there?" -Joy

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• "Vince" the ShamWow! guy. He's mesmerizing to watch, if somewhat frightening due to his Dick Tracy character one-big-eye-one-little-eye-- something sure to put the fear in any terrorists planning attacks. He has the patter down, and he's very convincing. We know he pours the cola, there's a giant puddle of cola under that carpet, the camera cuts away and then that cola has magically gone. We suspect the ShamWow! had nothing to do with that cola being gone. But yet we buy the ShamWows! That's the power of Vince at work. Vince is prepared to clean up this country, even if it involves doubling your order of presidential terms for only the cost of shipping and handling. Appropriate sound-bite: "That's two terms, for the price of one. You follow me, camera guy?"

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• Dana Scully from the X-Files. Women looking for female candidate they can relate to might do very well with Dana Scully. She's bright, pretty, has a wide base of knowledge, and she already has the wardrobe-- pantsuits galore. Plus, she's a Christian and a mother, which are important qualities for a large chunk of voters. Okay, yes, yes, the baby might be part-alien. But that will just help diversify her voter base. Appropriate sound-bite: "The truth is out there... And we'll feed it to you in vague, cryptic installments over the course of a multiple term run, just to keep you guessing."
  

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Now, I'd tossed around some other options, but I'm not as confident in those selections.

• I mean, Dwight Schrute from The Office is a powerful public speaker, but the U.S. would officially become a dictatorship.

• I considered both the Geico Gecko and Charles Dyson, the Dyson vacuum cleaner inventor-- but neither of them were born in the U.S.

• And Monk, well, he's smart, but the Oval office isn't even enough-- it would freak him out and he'd spend tons of taxpayer dollars on renovating it into the Square Office.

Soon, the U.S. will put itself in the hands of a new leader, but how do we feel about the choices we currently have? I don't know; I like to think we'd have been in good hands with Allstate.

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Get out and vote in 2008-- for Of Cabbages and Kings at Humor-blogs. Or check out my friends over at Humorbloggers. Some of them are even running for President-- kinda sorta.

Little Timmy's Son Contract Runs Out

"If you don't start behaving, I'm doing to trade you in for a new model!"

Most kids have probably heard something to that effect from their parents. Usually right after they've shaved the cat...

Superglued someone's butt cheeks to the toilet seat...

Or have taken apart the coffeemaker just to see what's inside.

But now Childtrader.com-- an adoption group with a twist-- has made swapping your troublesome progeny for a bright, shiny new one a viable option. How does it work?

Well, say Mr. Jones has five girls and has always wanted a boy. And Mr. Smith down the road has a boy who's been acting up... Or who doesn't quite fit in the family dynamic... Or maybe resembles the mailman a bit too much...

Well, Mr. Jones adopts one of Mr. Smith's boys. Mr. Smith adopts one of Mr. Jones' girls. And voila! Everybody's happy, right?

Er....

Well...

So that got me pondering. How on earth do you break the news to your kid, that he is going to be traded to another family? Well, after giving it some careful consideration, I thought it might just go something like this...

Dad: "Ah, Timmy. Glad you could make it today, thanks for coming. (shakes hands)

"Um, you're probably wondering why I called you into my office. Have a seat.

"Here at The Robinsons(TM), we've set some ambitious goals for ourselves for the year. But I really believe, with proper strategic implementation, we can achieve them.

"Our 2009 plan looks forward to higher overall grade point averages... reduced spending in the entertainment and junk food consumption sectors... fewer emergency room health care costs.... and, lastly, and I think most importantly... winning the three-legged-race at the family reunion, and finally beating out that smug-faced Uncle Mark of yours and his family.

"Yes, all of these things I feel strongly are within our reach. But see, we've taken a look at it from every angle, and it's.... it's, well, it's going to require some restructuring.

"Now your immediate supervisor-- I believe you know her as "Mom"-- and I have both discussed with you in the past the behavior patterns we've witnessed and feel are counterproductive to the bottom-line efficiency and overall morale of The Robinsons (TM).

"Like when you traded your mother's car for some Pokemon cards...

"And the time you built that Hefty bag parachute and had your brother test-fly it...

"And then there was that forehead tattoo incident...

"As you know, we're still recovering from that one-- It may be years before Rover comes out from under the basement stairs. Hopefully, the fur will grow back eventually. But the memories, well, the memories are likely to linger on.

"I only bring these things up again now, Timmy, because it is as we move forward into 2009, your mother and I can now see clearly your performance in this family has been holding us back from achieving our goals.

"So I have to be candid with you-- we're going to be bringing in a new gal from over in Shadyside. Yeah, her name's Becky, she's been with The Browns (TM) for the last 10 years. And I hear she's a real up-and-comer. And, you know, The Browns have been wanting a boy.... Also, (heh-heh) well, they don't have a dog so that's a win-win right there. Yes, son, I think of this as an opportunity to really strengthen our mutual marketshare.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is, your mother and I regret to inform you that we won't be renewing your contract as our son for 2009. We really appreciate the 12 years you've put into The Robinsons (TM). But with careful consideration, we feel it's just not working out and that this is the best solution for all of us.

"So, we're giving you two weeks notice-- and obviously allowance through that remaining time here. At the end of the month, you start with The Browns (TM). And I think you'll find it will be a really good fit for you.

"I hope we'll see you again sometimes at... well... school pageants... or something.

"Thanks so much for everything!"

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Rate This: Rating the Rating of Ratings

Is it just my imagination, or does it seem like simply everything online is rateable these days?

I mean, just look at all of the exciting social media opportunities we have now! And being able to rate the media on these different venues theoretically allows the cream to rise to the top...

The clotty grease to float over the beef broth...

No, wait...

The wheat to be separated from those inedible stringy bits that taste bad and clog your intestines and only goats can properly digest and... er...

Well, you know what I mean.

But now it seems that not only do individual posts or videos get rated in these media venues, but the comments about the individual posts or videos are getting rated, too.

So folks are commenting on the comments of the commentary...

And then Abbott says to Costello something about a first baseman named Who.

Anyway, I got to thinking about this when I visited an online friend's blog the other day. I noticed her happy little virtual art scrapbook had a "Rate this Picture" section automatically included on it.

And I started wondering-- do her cheerful hobby drawings really need to be assessed and given the "yea" or "nay" by some schmoe like me? Or by Joe Randomvisitor who just happened to pop by because he got lost on the way to YouTube?

Can't something just be good for the sake of trying it? For practicing, for working to be more than you currently are, for following up on the urge to create, and for sharing?

Can you really put a rating on trying and learning?

These are the sort of things I think about in between eating Cheez-Its and watching episodes of "My Name is Earl."

Another aspect of this Weigh-in On Everything Phenomenon happened on a celebrity news program I caught the tail-end of last week. They were talking about Shia LeBoeuf's recent car accident, and to support their idea that fans didn't think getting a DUI would affect Shia's career they had...

Larry from Whoville emailing in through the web site saying:

"I still think Shia is rockin'. He was cool in Transformers, and since he worked so closely with giant talking robots that change into cars and trucks, I think he's totally a good enough driver to man a regular non-talking non-robot vehicle after a couple of brewskis."

Okay, well, maybe Larry from Whoville didn't quite say that. My ears shut down somewhere after the word "rockin'."

But still. The newscaster went on to encourage more emails, allowing other folks from Whoville... and Upper Tarnation.... and Redbud and the like... to express their thoughts on the personal life of an individual they had never met before in a situation they hadn't witnessed.

And then it occurred to me-- if this is the way the trends are going these days, who am I to buck the Will of the People by judging all the judgment? I mean, I'm a helper, not a fighter.

So I came up with a few areas that are currently rating-free as far as I know, but which might really appeal to this brave new world of Complete Audience Interaction:

• Rate This Kindergartener's Artwork. Let's get 'em used to critique while they're still in their Underoos. The kindergarten artwork that receives more "gold stars" gets to be seen on the school bulletin board. Artwork with fewer stars gets the bin and those kindergarten artists are sent to the corner in disgrace, much like being Voted Off the Island. It's a tough world out there, so the sooner these five-year-old cuties learn that other people's opinions off the top of the head will affect their progress in life, well, the better.

• Vote Down Your Most Hated Louvre Paintings. Ever go into major museums and think, "Why is this art?" Well, here's your chance to make your museum visit truly interactive. By voting down your most hated Louvre paintings, the opinions of the first 1,000 people who participate will dictate which paintings get shown to the world and which won't. How many of you are sick of seeing that Mona Lisa chick and her simpering smile? If you're one of the first 1,000, vote it down and the world will never have to see this painting ever again. Yes, that's right-- it'll be wiped from history. What-- you don't know anything about art? That doesn't matter. Today, everyone's opinion about everything is equally important. Yours. Mine. Everyone's. Let's make our voices heard.
  

• Rate the Vacation Memories of Complete Strangers. Vacation slides. The only people they really matter to are the folks who were there. Yep, those people can laugh hysterically at a shot of their dad standing in front of a diner sign, and you have to sit through it in bemused silence. Well, now, you could put an end to the tedium of boring vacation shots you didn't experience yourself by voting them up or down according to your personal interest. Images with the most down votes will be purged from those families' albums, and you'll never have to be bothered by them again.
  

By implementing these and other innovative Interactive Audience Ratings Programs, we'll soon be able to share all our important insights on the comments of the comments of the ratings of the rated. And best of all, we can enjoy all this heady authority anonymously, on any topic, and while never actually having to produce a single creative thing ourselves.

Power to the people!

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Vote for this post at Humor-blogs, because irony is funny.

Introducing Presidential Candidate Bitler

On BlogCatalog the other day, someone posted a discussion, "Obama Mis-spelled as Osama." There, the blogger indicated that because the two names shared some letters, this similarity was both important and detrimental to the United States and Obama's candidacy.

And that got me thinking. Does this mean if a candidate-- just your average joe politician-- named, say, "Bitler" came along, would Bitler have a hard time grabbing the votes?

So as a tribute to Bob Newhart's early stand-up career, I thought we would explore what exactly might happen if a smart, aspiring, regular guy named "George Bitler" decided to run for President... But doesn't realize his unfortunate surface similarities to certain German megalomaniac. What kind of conversation would there be when he meets his new image consultant in person for the very first time?

Well, it might go something like this...

BITLER IMAGE CONSULTANT: Why, George Bitler!-- It's great to finally meet you in person. I really think you've got a bright future ahead of you, George. You know the issues. You have a fresh take on things. It's just, um, there are a few things I think we might need to adjust a little in order for you to truly resonate with the American people...

What's that? Oh, well, no-- your platform is great. But I was thinking more along the lines of... Well, first of all, can you shave the mustache?

Oh, what's wrong with the mustache? Well, George, you know, the mustache is... well, it's a little... SMALL.

Well, yes, I think it looks great, too, George. Yes, yes, very powerful! But see, that toothbrush mustache look went out of style in, well, really, it's... it's been quite a few years now. And it might not have the impact you're hoping for when you go out there and are, um, kissing babies...

No, no, I just think mothers might have a problem with you kissing their babies with that mustache, George. So let's at least think about shaving it off, okay?... Good.

Okay, now, I was looking at some footage of one of your speeches....

Which one? Well, in particular, the one you gave to the airport worker's union. Yes, yes, it was beautiful weather that day. Nice to be outside on a day like that, isn't it?

Well, George, I was looking at that footage and... it's about your body language. I'd like to recommend you tone down some of the arm-waving movements.

Yeah, see, going forward I think maybe the arm swinging, the saluting--

No, no, I understand, George, it is an attention-getter. That it is. But I think what you really want is people to be concentrating on your words, George. Your words...

And I noticed you sorta lost their attention a little at the point that those planes thought they were being waved in.

I mean, we've got you scheduled out at Dullas at least once or twice, and JFK, too, so, well... We're gonna be near the airport, George. So I really think it might be best if you keep the arm movements to a minimum. Maybe just try clasping your hands in front of you, and keeping the salutes a bit more low-key...

No, I really don't think they'll think you're any less patriotic if you don't salute. Just trust me on this, George. Less arm-waving.

All right. Now. I spotted this on the footage, and I can't help noticing it now, too-- you're wearing all beige. Do you... tend to wear all beige often, George?

Ah, you do, hm? You get sweaty and you think it's cooler for you when you're under all those hot lights? Yeah, sure, I can understand that, George. Those lights do get really hot.

But, you see, beige really doesn't... well... you're running for the President of the United States, George, and wearing all beige all the time, well, it says to the American people you're... not easily able to adapt to situations. It kind of looks like... well... a uniform, to be honest, George.

Now what you need is a nice strong navy blue, or a brown, or a gray suit, but...

Yes, I know, those are darker colors and will only absorb the lights, George. But, look, we'll get you some fans, bottled water, and a really good anti-perspirant. You'll be fine.

Okay, the last thing I wanted to bring up, and I'm not sure how exactly to do this, so I'm just going to ask... The armband. What's the deal with the red, white and black armband, George?

Oh, you're setting a trend, are you? It's for... for black lung? Oh, I see-- your dad was a miner and it's in memory of American miners who died of black lung. That's really nice, George. So that black logo in the center is...?

Some crossed pick axes. Right, sorta like Lance Armstrong has the yellow rubber bracelet, you have the red, black and white armband with the crossed pick axes...

Well, gee, George, yes, that is a really nice sentiment and... and... a heckuva great cause. But see, I just think in these early days of your candidacy you're going to want to be a little more broad with your causes...

No, no, I think it's a great thing! But, um, I'm just saying it'll be easier for you if you don't wear your causes on your sleeve, quite so literally.

Sure, you know, and plus, we've got a whole team of guys who'll work on promoting your issues and doing merchandising. Right, it's their jobs, they're getting paid for this sort of thing. So, really, if you don't let them at least try to do some new logos and promo pieces for you, well, they're gonna get insulted. It's these artistic types, George. You know how they are.

Yes, of course, we'll certainly take the logo you designed into account when we design our promotions.

Just focus right now, George, on getting rid of the mustache, finding a nice blue suit, toning down the body language and leaving the armband at home. You do that, and the Bitler campaign will pretty much take care of itself.

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I bet Bob Newhart would have LOVED Humor-blogs.

How to Write How-To: A Tutorial With Tips

Tips… Helpful hints… Who doesn’t turn to the Internet for a little advice these days? But I’m starting to suspect the demand for know-how is greater than the information online that’s actually… oh… not so obvious that a street-savvy Pomeranian couldn’t figure it out.

Or write it.

Like an article I read recently on Yahoo HotJobs. In “What the Boss’ Body Language Says,” author Pat Mayfield lets us know that the boss MIGHT NOT LIKE YOU if s/he:

• In groups, avoids you, sits with others, or does not introduce you.
• Does not look at you; has a cold, glaring, staring, or glazed-over look.
• Raises one eyebrow as if in disbelief or doubt.
• Jaw muscles are clenched, and temple or neck veins throb.
• Smile is stiff and forced.
• Points or wags his or her finger aggressively.

Um, did we NEED an article to tell us this? That if the boss glares at you, you might not be his office pet?

That an angry, finger-waving, forced-smiling, vein-throbbing, glaring, staring, doubting, ducking manager-type MIGHT NOT be sending you flowers and chockies along with your next paycheck? GOSH, but it’s so SUBTLE! Thank goodness we had this article!

(I was actually surprised “Gives you the pink-slip” wasn’t on the list.)

Of course, I’m also not a nationally-published advice columnist, or self-employed business consultant, so what do I know?

Which got me thinking. Perhaps I’m just not taking advantage of an important writing market. So I’ve compiled a list of possible topics that I feel might make a real splash on the internet how-to feature circuit. They include:

“Protecting Yourself from Home Invasion: Ten Steps to Locking the Door.”

“Why I Started Surfing at the Ocean: A Learning Experience.”

“How to Increase Your SEO by 100%-- If You Currently Have No Website.”

"Teach Yourself the Kazoo in Just Five Minutes a Day."

“He’s Just Not That Into You: Why That Restraining Order Really DOES Affect Your Relationship.”

So what do you all think? Am I headed for a bright and shiny future in the-- ?

Oh... sorry. Gotta go. My Pomeranian needs to use the computer; deadline, you know.


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Pomeranians write all sorts of posts over at Humor-blogs.

That Thin Mint monkey

It had been too long.

The hands trembled. Beads of sweat popped out on my forehead, my neck. My heart pounded in my chest. Blood pounded in my ears. I tried to focus, but could think of nothing-- nothing but that sweet, sweet bliss.

But where could I find what I needed? Panic seized me.

And then I remembered: Kitty. Of course! My ol' pal Kitty could hook me up. Her niece was connected, wasn't she? Sure! She was a BIG dealer, biggest in her turf... She'd look after me. No problem.

It was Girl Scout cookie season, and I needed my fix.

As a slave to the Samoas, I wonder how many others face a deep, insatiable craving for these cookies out-of-season. And why IS it seasonal? What are they trying to do to us, these pint-sized cookie teases? They introduce their boffo baked goods and then they vanish. Gone for another year.

But the demand is still there, isn't it? The memory? The sugar no longer coursing through our bloodstream, but the desire still alive?

It makes you wonder. Why such a short time? Is it a philosophical statement on the fleeting spirit of beauty? Of life? A derisive move against the principles of supply and demand?

Why don't the Girl Scouts just rent themselves a giant oak tree, set up shop inside it and bake these babies all year round? (Okay, those are elves. But still. ) Why create a false deficit? A manufactured shortage? I mean, they're a character-building organization. They're not OPEC.

Well, I connected with Kitty and let her know what I was looking for. She passed along my message. Weeks passed.

Then I got word that Kitty had a package for me. I slipped through dark corridors toward the meeting place (okay, so it was by the printer at work), and the hand-off was about to be made, when I realized--

I didn't have the cash. Not ON me. Nervously, I explained the situation. But it was too late. The deal had gone sour. Good-bye, Thin Mints. Later, Tagalongs. So long, Samoas. The darkness closed around the retreating figure. The stash was spirited away almost as if it never were.

Almost. The scent of peppermint and coconut lingered in the cool evening air.

Fleeting. So, so fleeting. And it's never easy to get that Thin Mint monkey off your back.


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Mmm, Thin Mints, Peanut Tagalongs, Samoas and Humor-blogs. Nothing like 'em!