Chris Cornell, “You Know My Name” (the theme from Casino Royale) vs. Maggi, Pierce, and E.J., “Yipee-I-A.”
[audio:http://www.geebobg.com.s3.amazonaws.com/my_name.mp3]Category: humor
Ask any tuna you happen to see…
Experiment: reply to this tweet with a single word. I will take the next 24 hours’ responses and work all the words into a new blog post.
I got two responses: “Mythological” from atrelaun and “mayonnaise” from GregBulmash. So, as promised…
In the morning, Mike’s mom made the usual menu for Mythological Mondays: opening a can of mermaid meat, she mixed it with some mayonnaise and spread it between two slices of multi-grain.
Meh.
ZONNOZOON
I was helpless with laughter. Strangely, most of the people to whom I demonstrated ZONNOZOON in the days and months and years that followed failed to be quite as amused as I’d been that first time (and remain to this day). I guess there’s still something about Steve that’s funnier-than-me.
Happy birthday, Steve! Here’s a present I made for you.
Dark Knighty-night
Last night I was too sleepy to do any of those, but they asked, so I started giving my usual cop-out spiel:
“Once upon a time, there were two boys, Jonah and Archer, who were so sleepy that they snuggled under their blankets…”
but Archer said, “No! Not about us!”
so I said, “Once upon a time, there was a dad who was so sleepy…”
but Archer said, “No!”
so I said, “Once upon a time, there was a grandpa who lived far away…”
but Archer said, “No! No Glicksteins! Tell a superhero story!”
So I thought a moment and said, “Once upon a time, Batman wanted some ice cream.”
Archer, knowing my pacifist tendencies in storytelling, said, “No, with fighting!”
So I said, “Hold your horses. How do you know there’s not going to be fighting in this story?” I continued, “Batman went to the ice cream store and said” — and here I put on my best iron-willed, tortured, costumed-vigilante voice — “‘One scoop of chocolate, please.’ The man behind the counter said, ‘I’m sorry, Batman, but we’re out of chocolate.’ So… Batman fought with the man behind the counter!”
Archer said, “No! Batman wouldn’t fight with the ice cream man!”
I said, “You’re right. OK: once upon a time, Batman wanted some ice cream. So he went to the ice cream store and said, ‘One scoop of chocolate, please.’ But the man behind the counter said, ‘I’m sorry, Batman, but I just sold the last scoop of chocolate to Spider-Man over there.’ So… Batman fought with Spider-Man!”
At this point, Jonah, who’d been listening in quiet amusement, chimed in, “But Batman is DC and Spider-Man is Marvel!” Which impressed the hell out of me.
So I said, “You’re right! So there could never be a Batman/Spider-Man crossover, could there? OK… Once upon a time, Spider-Man wanted some ice cream. So he went to the ice cream store and said, ‘One scoop of chocolate, please. No, wait: vanilla. Oh hold on: strawberry. No, rocky road!’ The man behind the counter started to get impatient. ‘Please make your selection, sir,’ he said. So Spider-Man said, ‘I really want cookies and cream. Wait, I mean pralines and cream! Ooh, maybe I should get some sherbet instead. Lemon — no, orange! Wait, rainbow! Eh… maybe I should stick with chocolate…’ Now the man behind the counter wasn’t just impatient, he was angry. His skin turned green, and he got really big and burst out of his shirt — he was the Incredible Hulk! And he fought with Spider-Man.”
Archer: “They wouldn’t fight. They’re both good guys! They’re on the same team!”
Me: “Maybe it wasn’t really Spider-Man. Maybe it was one of those bad guys who can make himself look like someone else.”
Jonah: “Like Clayface!”
Me: “But he’s DC!”
Jonah: “Oh yeah…”
Honestly, it’s a wonder those kids ever get to sleep.
Darnedest candor
Over dinner the other night, Andrea and I were gushing to our kids about how wonderful they are. “We’re so proud of you guys,” we told them. “You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re polite, you’re thoughtful. We’re very lucky to have two such wonderful boys.” They seemed indifferent to our praise, so, curious to know how and whether they valued their own attributes, I turned first to Archer and asked, “What’s your favorite thing about yourself?”
It took him just a beat to answer definitively, “My wiener.”
Hey, he’s only saying what the rest of us are thinking.
Be the envy of your peers
A few days ago, my friend and former colleague, the funny and talented Greg Bulmash, visited my blog after a prolonged absence. There he saw my latest What brings you here post and grew curious about vampire lesbian girl scouts.
If I say so myself, the phrase “vampire lesbian girl scouts” all but demands further exploration.
Anyway, he wrote about it on his own blog in what he claimed, in e-mail to me, was an innocent shout-out. But I know what was really going on: he wanted to muscle in on some of that “vampire lesbian girl scout” search traffic. Indeed, as of this moment his post has taken over the top spot from mine in a Google search for that phrase.
The war is on. And this post is my escalation. Presenting the geebobg Vampire Lesbian Girl Scouts t-shirt!
Available in men’s and women’s styles and a variety of colors in the geebobg CafePress store.
While you’re there, pick up a Mucoshave coffee mug for that special someone!
A holiday tradition
You didn’t think I was going to leave you hanging, did you? It’s a little late in the season but here’s my annual reimagining of a popular seasonal song.
You better not look
You better not leer
Your best bet is getting the
Hell out of here
Santa Claus is wearing a gown
He’s batting his eyes
And pursing his lips
Walking in heels
And swinging his hips
Santa Claus is wearing a gown
When Mrs. Claus is sleeping
He sneaks into her clothes
He calls some elves in a girlish voice
And they paint each other’s toes
When Christmas is done
The year is so long
He passes the time
In drag — that so wrong?
Santa Claus is wearing a gown
(Previously.)
Flux capacitor fluxing
So yesterday I’m on Facebook and I see a status update from my friend Amy from elementary school, who moved to Hollywood and was an actress for a while. Attached to her status update is a comment from one Claudia Wells, a name I recognize. Another elementary school classmate of mine and Amy’s? I send her a “friend” request with the note, “Are you the Claudia Wells from P.S. 196 in Forest Hills, NY?”
She writes back promptly to say she isn’t — she’s a classmate of Amy’s from high school. That’s when I Google her and discover she’s the actress who played Marty McFly’s girlfriend in Back to the Future, the film in which a short-circuit sends Michael J. Fox thirty years into the past. And then I remember that the Claudia who went to school with me and Amy had a different last name entirely. How did I get it wrong? I guess seeing the name “Claudia” juxtaposed with Amy’s caused a mental short-circuit — one that sent me into the past — by exactly thirty years! (To 1978, my last year of elementary school and the last time I saw Amy or Claudia.) I write back and tell her so.
I slay me. I’m quite sure Claudia Wells doesn’t get nearly enough Back to the Future references in her life.
Couldn’t I be a little less right all the time?
Preface: It’s remarkable how quickly, after all we’ve been through, it’s becoming irrelevant to bash George Bush. Of course some of this is by his own design: he’s sitting out the election to prevent harming McCain’s chances (any more than McCain and Palin are harming them themselves), and everyone’s bashing energy has shifted to more prominent targets. Very likely, once the election is over, we’ll be hearing a lot more about Bush as he gives the world whatever final fuck-you he has in store; but for now, I’ve got this blog post that I’ve been tinkering with for weeks, and if I want it to have any relevance at all I better wrap it up and push it out the door now, ready or not. Here ’tis.
Global finance in total meltdown. Major cities half obliterated. Peak oil (and peak helium, platinum, indium, zinc, copper, phosphorous…). Deteriorating soil quality in the heartland, and plummeting water tables — in fact, water shortages everywhere. Polar ice caps disappearing. Fishing stocks depleted. Our protective global magnetic field weakening. Vast methane clouds pouring out of their ancient undersea vaults. The U.S. Constitution in tatters.
Not that long ago, when my friends and I would get together and discuss our biggest concerns, they were along the lines of, “With the world so peaceful and prosperous, how will we keep our kids (when we have some) from growing up into spoiled trust-fund brats?” We were looking for solutions a little more subtle than worldwide strife and deprivation to teach them some humility, but I guess worldwide strife and deprivation will have to do. It worked for “the greatest generation,” after all. (Careful what you wish for!)
Honestly, it’s almost worth it to see everything turning to shit all at once, just to be able to say that, when I warned four years ago that the world couldn’t afford another four years of George Bush — that no scenario of devastation was too far-fetched — I was exactly right. It wasn’t hyperbole when I said George Bush could destroy the world. He now has.
Ahh.
Of course the destruction of the world could have taken many different forms. Here’s one way I’ve thought it might happen. Don’t you just know that this is exactly how Bush would respond to this kind of crisis? Imagine with me now…
EXT. GOLF COURSE - DAY
AIDE
Mr. President, Space Command has
detected an extrasolar object in a
geoconverging orbit, exhibiting
nonballistic maneuvering capability.
Here's the report: "Alien starship
will reach earth in three months."
BUSH
"Space Command"? We have one of
those? You're shitting me.
AIDE
Yes sir, but the report --
BUSH
OK, you've covered your ass. Now
watch this drive.
INT. UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
AUTO EXEC
Dammit, Dick, these new CAFE rules
are killing us. Building more
fuel-efficient cars adds almost a
full percent more to the cost of
manufacture!
ASSISTANT
But the public wants these cars and
will pay a premium --
AUTO EXEC
The public? Bah! You're fired!
ASSISTANT
But the free market --
AUTO EXEC
Get out! ...Sorry you had to see
that, Dick.
CHENEY
I know how it is with these kids who
"care." Say, don't I remember
reading something highly classified
about an alien starship...?
AUTO EXEC
A what?!
CHENEY
Oh it's probably nothing... except
it's just what the doctor ordered
for your fuel-efficiency problems.
AUTO EXEC
Thanks Dick, you're the best.
CHENEY
Yes. Yes I am. Fuck you.
INT. OVAL OFFICE - NIGHT
BUSH
My fellow Americans, an alien
spaceship is approaching earth. It
will arrive in two months. Top
scientists have analyzed it and
determined it is likely that its
intent is hostile. I urge the
Congress to release one point six
trillion dollars to fund my
planetary defense program. In the
meantime, this government is taking
all possible steps to ensure the
safety of all Americans. I have
suspended fuel-efficiency rules so
that automobile manufacturers can,
ah, include lead shielding in the
passenger cabins of all new
automobiles as protection against,
er, a possible alien death ray.
INT. PRESS ROOM - DAY
MILBANK
Yes, Harvey?
HARVEY
What is the president's response to
reports that MIT scientists have
deciphered transmissions from the
alien ship and determined its
mission is peaceful?
MILBANK
The president sees through that
transparent ruse. I direct your
attention to this report, released
yesterday by the NSA, pointing out
that Al Qaeda operatives received
the same transmissions.
HARVEY
Of course they did, everyone on
earth rec --
MILBANK
Next question -- Paul?
INT. U.S. HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES - DAY
A REPUBLICAN
Madame Speaker, I move to end debate
and vote on the proposal to release
the one-point-six-trillion dollars
that our commander-in-chief requires
to defeat the Al Qaeda terror
spaceship.
PELOSI
Very well. If there be any opposed
to the proposal to fund the
president's Al Qaeda space-defense
program --
KUCINICH
Hang on, that spaceship has nothing
to do with Al --
PELOSI
Shut up, Kucinich.
(bangs gavel)
Without objection, the measure
passes.
INT. ALIEN STARSHIP
LIEUTENANT
Commander, sensors indicate a
massive missile launch from the
planet's surface.
COMMANDER
Target?
LIEUTENANT
Computing... sir, I don't
understand. The missiles are
heading straight for us, but --
CUT TO:
INT. WHITE HOUSE SITUATION ROOM
ADVISOR
(frantically)
--those missiles don't have enough
fuel! It's what I've been trying to
tell you! They're intercontinental
missiles, they can't even achieve
low earth orbit, let alone--
CUT TO:
INT. ALIEN STARSHIP
LIEUTENANT
--our geostationary orbit is far out
of range.
COMMANDER
(sighs)
I had hoped for a cultural exchange,
but I can see these people are both
warlike and stupid. Incinerate
planet.
LIEUTENANT
Aye sir... planet incinerated.
Let’s hope that if aliens do come — or whatever the next disaster is — it’s not in the next seventy-seven days.
Coincidence fatigue
Part 1.
The first time I heard the song, “Going in the Right Direction,” by Robert Randolph and the Family Band, I thought this lyric sounded familiar:
I was lost
I thought the losing dice were tossed
Wracking my brain for a minute produced the answer: it’s also a lyric from the song, “Just In Time,” an old standard from mid-century.
Part 2.
Out of the blue several days ago, Andrea calls me and asks whether she should buy a group of discounted tickets to an upcoming Cal Bears game. “College football?” I asked. (I was right.) I said sure — it’d be fun to take the boys, and maybe a friend or two, not that it had ever occurred to us before to go see a live football game. We’re baseball people (and we barely manage even to see that once a year).
Part 3.
Our friends Michael and Julia are buying a house! I’d previously offered my help moving their belongings when the time came. But when the time did come, it coincided with the Cal Bears game. “I can help later in the day,” I told them apologetically, “but meanwhile, if it helps, we can take your son (Jonah’s friend) to the football game with us so he doesn’t get in the way.” Oh my God, came the reply: their son is already scheduled to go with his aunt to the same game. This, from another family that has exhibited no particular interest in football before now.
Part 4.
Driving home from Point Reyes this afternoon, the song, “Going in the Right Direction” comes up in my thousand-song MP3 shuffle. As usual I idly try to remember the name of that other song that has the same lyric, but this time I draw a blank and then forget all about it. The very next song that plays is a Mel Tormé rendition of “Just In Time.” I am gobsmacked. I explain the coincidence to Andrea. She hears the identical lyrics. Shrugs. I do the verbal equivalent of grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her, but she is unimpressed despite the long odds.
My only explanation is that she has coincidence fatigue from the business with the Cal Bears tickets.