Mr Neil's Inane Ramblings|
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Mr. Neil's LiveJournal:
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|Wednesday, September 21st, 2005|
|What I hate about Jon...
bruingod: nah all i've been asking for is honesty and i'm getting it
NorvilleHardy: Meh... we all know that living a lie is the way to true happiness.
bruingod: nah i cant stand it
NorvilleHardy: Honesty, eh? In that case, there are a few things I've always wanted to say to you.
bruingod: go ahead
NorvilleHardy: 1) I've never liked the way you've dressed like a tramp.
NorvilleHardy: 2) I hate the way that you don't finish my sentences for me.
NorvilleHardy: 3) I can't stand the way you almost never go dump scrounging
NorvilleHardy: 4) Three words: Too many teeth
NorvilleHardy: 5) Never passed the bar
NorvilleHardy: 6) No decrative hood ornament on chest
bruingod: write your congressman
NorvilleHardy: 7) You refuse to celebrate my made up holidays
NorvilleHardy: 8 ) You keep making reference to my congressman, no matter how many times I 've told you he died.
NorvilleHardy: 9) BBBQO
NorvilleHardy: 10) Inability to shave off eyebrows (Mat's)
NorvilleHardy: 11) Elbow Degreaser
NorvilleHardy: 12) No high speed photography of you blinking on website
NorvilleHardy: 13) Over Underuse of Ampersands
NorvilleHardy: 14) All of your DVDs have bite marks on them
NorvilleHardy: 15) Obscene Licence plate.
NorvilleHardy: 16) Lack of safety on home security elephant gun
bruingod: is that all
NorvilleHardy: 17) interrupts
bruingod: F&&& Y&&
NorvilleHardy: 18 ) Never produced a broadway play that you didn't star in
NorvilleHardy: 19) Beat me out in Orson Wells look a like contest
bruingod: oh so my production of rent doesn't cut it for you
NorvilleHardy: Well, you made it about a well to do bounder who had no trouble paying the rent.
NorvilleHardy: 20) Dual Eyepatches
NorvilleHardy: 21) Bought Cell Phone with drug Money
NorvilleHardy: 22) Constant smell of fish and chips on your personage
NorvilleHardy: 23) Poor bloodflow
NorvilleHardy: 24) Cluster of birthmarks NOT scraped off with the broad side of a butter knife
NorvilleHardy: 25) Left foot is a little bigger than the right bicept
NorvilleHardy: 26) You hair smells funny when burnt
NorvilleHardy: 27) Blue Plate special in your house always has too much fiberglass in it
bruingod: you know what i dont like about you?
NorvilleHardy: 28 ) You never know when to tell me to stop?
NorvilleHardy: Ok..I've got 3 seconds
bruingod: you make long lists
NorvilleHardy: 29) You reframe my jokes, but in a worse font
NorvilleHardy: 30) Chest Wig
bruingod: oh sorry ill try to be MORE dull
NorvilleHardy: 31) All mirrors in your house scotchguarded
NorvilleHardy: 32) Bumperpool table has no bumpers
bruingod: or table
NorvilleHardy: 33) Air Hockey indiced shy bladder
NorvilleHardy: 34) Semantics
NorvilleHardy: 35) Your constant butchering of the names of Foreign Dignitaries to their faces.
bruingod: what about my seamen
NorvilleHardy: 36) Willing to share anything you have on you.
NorvilleHardy: 37) Bert and Ernie complex with roommate.
NorvilleHardy: 38 ) My !)(*@)(*&!ing chat program keeps turning 8) into smilie faces
NorvilleHardy: 39) Never bought me a boat
NorvilleHardy: 40) Makes macaronie and cheese with house shingles and hot cocoa mix
NorvilleHardy: 41) No lower body strength
NorvilleHardy: 42) No Upper body.... at all
NorvilleHardy: 43) Doesn't look good in a hat
NorvilleHardy: 44) Numberous concealed piercings
bruingod: in response to 42) well how do you think i afforded the phone
NorvilleHardy: 45) Lives at hock shop
NorvilleHardy: 46) Nostrils always crammed with something organic
NorvilleHardy: 47) Licks wall outlets for a cheap buzz
NorvilleHardy: 48 ) Sings "I am the captain of the Pinefore" every time he's in the tub and there are British people swabbing it.
NorvilleHardy: 49) Misses Gilbert and Sullivan References
NorvilleHardy: 50) No vestigial tail
NorvilleHardy: 51) Thinks cough drops qualify as vitamins
NorvilleHardy: 52) Uses quarters in vedning machines, and keeps slugs.
bruingod: well only of the bullets that killed people
NorvilleHardy: 53) Pause button broken from repeated VCR viewing of National Geographic native tribes VHS set.
bruingod: nah the internet has better pics
NorvilleHardy: 54) Thumbs clearly atrophied
NorvilleHardy: 55) No trophy wife
NorvilleHardy: 56) Thinks Zack is a food group
NorvilleHardy: 57) Single handedly caused potato blight
NorvilleHardy: 58 ) Rejected free Seguay on grounds that "If the battery runs out, I won't feel like walking"
bruingod: some idiot came into our store on one
NorvilleHardy: 59) Undressing in front of ghosts of ancesters
bruingod: they gave me ghost dollars im gonna need in the afterlife
NorvilleHardy: 60) Is jealous of rich customers at CVS
bruingod: they also give me ghost dollars
NorvilleHardy: 61) Thinks that ghost dollars are more valuable than arcade tikets
bruingod: who want to play skee ball
NorvilleHardy: 62) Never accepts my challenges at Funspot because he's too busy sweating profusely.
bruingod: name a sunday after i move
bruingod: then your ass is mine
NorvilleHardy: 63) Thinks Mat is 10,000 feet tall because of malfunctioning depth perception
NorvilleHardy: 64) Assumes that I don't spend my weekends participating in combonation walkathons and whale saving.
NorvilleHardy: 65) My hand is cramping
bruingod: show me phot evidence
bruingod: so start typing with 2 hands perv
NorvilleHardy: 66) Omits "o"s to be trendy
bruingod: trends have to start somewhere
NorvilleHardy: Thinks Everyone engages in autoerotic activities whilst chatting casually on AIM, just because he does.
NorvilleHardy: 68 ) stole number 67, is feared dead
bruingod: good god get a room
NorvilleHardy: 69) Never pays for my hotel rooms
bruingod: you never asked
NorvilleHardy: 70) Can't forsee future needs
NorvilleHardy: 71) Licks lips when whistling
bruingod: i was a soothsayer in my last life
NorvilleHardy: 72) Only whistles with a full mouth of food
NorvilleHardy: 73) Thinks his seventh sense outshines the sixth
NorvilleHardy: 74) IV Drip filled with holy water
bruingod: man that stings
NorvilleHardy: 75) Thinks that his pet Lizard should learn to eat Canelloni
NorvilleHardy: 76) Needs goggles to keep his eyes from stinging in the shower
NorvilleHardy: 77) Pierced tounge locks onto pierced navel
NorvilleHardy: 78 ) Refries refried beans
NorvilleHardy: 79) Wallpaper has no holes in it
NorvilleHardy: 80) Thinks that EVERY movie is 3d if you just wear the glasses
bruingod: NorvilleHardy: 78 ) Refries refried beans
i think that is my favorite one so far
NorvilleHardy: 81) Serenades himself with love songs about his own verility
NorvilleHardy: 82) Massive overuse of chapstick.
NorvilleHardy: 83) Uses facecloths to dry off after getting out of shower
NorvilleHardy: 84) Thinks fruit roll ups are a source of calcium
NorvilleHardy: 85) Can recite the poem Jabberwocky, but only backwards and with someone rubbing his belly
NorvilleHardy: 86) Unhealthy fixation with flouride
NorvilleHardy: 87) Blames witches for misplacing his car keys
NorvilleHardy: 88 ) TOurette's
bruingod: can i just say i love futurama
NorvilleHardy: 89) Has the lung capacity of a newborn icecube
NorvilleHardy: 90) States his irellivant points with pride
bruingod: well they are MY opinions
NorvilleHardy: 91) Dials 9-1-1 to hit on operators, stating "There's a fire in my pants"
NorvilleHardy: 92) Thinks that just because an opinion originates from his head that it's not propery of Procter and Gamble
NorvilleHardy: 93) Hangs around with clam shuckers for the free "empties"
NorvilleHardy: 94) Had to look up the word "shuckers"
NorvilleHardy: 95) Accidently looked up the word "Smuckers", came up with Jam website
NorvilleHardy: 96) Is now constantly saying "With a name like Jon, you KNOW I gotta be good"
NorvilleHardy: 97) Weeps quietly when Kodak commercials come on./
NorvilleHardy: 98 ) Mixes Fruit Loops into his martinis.
NorvilleHardy: 99) Hangnails. Thousands of them
NorvilleHardy: 100) Keeps a blog of the things he spits up
NorvilleHardy: 101) Sings x-rated drinking songs
NorvilleHardy: 102) That thing he does where he picks his teeth with the bathroom key at the gas station.
NorvilleHardy: 103) Double Jointed... but the wrong way
NorvilleHardy: 104) Eats fixodent like a sandwich spread
NorvilleHardy: 105) Stubble Topiary
NorvilleHardy: 106) Does a Ricci Ricardo Impression when greeting widows at funerals
NorvilleHardy: 107) Tennis Elbow
NorvilleHardy: 108 ) Drinks Mustard as a beverage
NorvilleHardy: 109) Thick callouses under his eyes.
NorvilleHardy: 110) Thinks dancing is a contact sport
NorvilleHardy: 111) Lost virginity to massage chair
bruingod: mats not really your friend
bruingod: i think neil is insane
bruingod: but certainly dont tell him
captaintycho666: oh ...when u figure that out sherlock ?
bruingod: he's to busy typing a pointless message
bruingod: also dont tell him he's a yella belly cod wrangler
captaintycho666: okey dokey
NorvilleHardy: 112)Reposts things Mat just sent me
NorvilleHardy: 113) Thinks Shampoo is looking at him funny
NorvilleHardy: 114) Bar Brawls in the Kiddie Pool
NorvilleHardy: 115) Is no longer a Pices
NorvilleHardy: 116) Invested in pork bottoms. Not the stock, he just kept his wad of bills there.
NorvilleHardy: 117) Lazy Eyes
NorvilleHardy: 118 )His Lazy eyes are kind of chewy
NorvilleHardy: 119) Never eats 100 grand candy bars, thinking they're cursed
NorvilleHardy: 120) See above
bruingod: how are you not bored Current Mood: Too energetic
|Sunday, July 10th, 2005|
|A shrine to my inability to grow up.
Presenting for your edification and my sense of smug self-satisfaction, the eighth wonder of the world: Mount St. Collectible. While naturally occurring in nature, the wall embedded display case really can't be classified a modern marvel without hundreds of (gullibly perceived) man-hours carefully arranging all of the finest (read: too modern to be worth anything) trinkets.
Notice how a dissimilar element is placed betwixt two like elements; A motley crew of figurines between two tiers of Popeye memorabilia - like a sandwich... made of plastic, and... being totally inedible... kind of like a *fast food* sandwich... made of plastic. I'm going to stop writing metaphors now.
If you'd like to donate to our worthy cause, to help keep up our high cost of operation (read: buying more toys that I really don't need to be truely happy) Paypal me in denominations of $100 - erm... to keep the sum cleanly rounded. This historical museum is not open to the public, so after making your donation, kindly remove yourself from the premises, taking extra care to rough yourself up in the process. And remember to come again. Well, maybe just your wallet. Current Mood: Monumental
|Tuesday, May 17th, 2005|
|You can't make stuff like this up...
I've said it before (well, not really) and I'll say it again (or, y'know...a first time), that my mind is the most curious element known to mankind, and twice as dense as Beryllium. This morning I awoke in a dizzying stupor, with mind fogged by fatigue and with tenuous balance at best. I hobbled over to the dresser (which was two feet from my bed, but it's a much further trek when you can only walk in concentric circles or in a vertical decent) and started gathering up the day's wardrobe. A pair of underwear, an undershirt, and... a third item. I literally stood there for two minutes trying to finish off the triumvirate of raiment, but I couldn't figure out where the the missing wearable I needed was. I honestly thought I was looking for a Raccoon Skin Hat
, and was vexed by being unable to find it. Now, as you may have guessed there are a few things awry about this selection. I have never, and WILL never own a Coonskin Cap. Furthermore, I can't think of a single real world scenario in which such an article of clothing would be required, least of all by someone as suburbanly inclined as myself. Yet, for a fleeting few moments, I was in an undulating panic, tearing apart the drawer for a ridiculous excuse for a head warmer. Perhaps in my daze, I felt I needed to Remember the Alamo, or was compelled to join the Bensenhurst chapter of the International Order of Friendly Sons of the Raccoons, but more than likely, two of my mind's cylinders weren't firing. I'm just glad that my awakened subconscious hemisphere chose such a docile yearning. I dread to think of what would happen if I were to, say wake up in my garage and mistake the push mower for a cuddly squid. In conclusion, who needs an exciting life when your mind is your arch nemesis? Current Mood: With a tail stuck in my eye
|Sunday, April 3rd, 2005|
|Another year closer...
Did you remember to buy gaudy streamers? An insincere card? A gift certificate to some place that doesn't accept them?
If not, you're like the other 6,428,284,782 people on this planet who don't accept "Be Nice to Neil for 24 hours Because He Managed Not to Die for Another Year" day as a national holiday. Travesties aside, this year's anniversary of my bursting inhumanly from the womb, seems to be the most promising one in years. I finished my most recent project for the American Comedy Network (despite it nearly killing me from Flash MX Poisoning) and even more uplifting, I start my job at Soup2Nuts animation studio tomorrow! Yes, this is shaping up to be the year of the Neil, so it would not be unwise to begin chanting my name rhythmically, to stay ahead of the trend curve.
So I bet you're asking yourself, "How can I do something as amazing as be born 24 years in the past?". Not very proactive of you, now is it? Just sitting there asking questions, mouth agape, arms less-than-akimbo, and spine slowly leaking fluid, causing future lower lumbar pain, and a feeling of low self worth, no matter how startlingly accurate. Being that I'm feeling magnanimous, I'm going to share with you my standard answer to this question. "YOU CAN'T! HA! YOU'RE WELL OVER TWO DECADES LATE! MAYBE IF YOU WEEP FOR HOURS ON END IT'LL COME TO PASS - BUT DON'T BET ON IT! EXCEPT FOR THE WEEPING PART... THAT PART WILL PROBABLY COME TRUE - AND OFTEN". For those of you who dislike bad news, and are willing to bypass reality in favor of a less harsh delusion, I proffer an alternative solution. "Send me money, and lots of it - but not Canadian money, unless you want the world economy to collapse". I also accept punches to the back of the skull of the person you're sitting next to, which I surmise will be the next form of currency to appreciate in value. (Shopkeep, give me a pound and a half of halibut - PUNCH*PUNCH*PUNCH*PUNCH*PUNCH - You want that wrapped to go? It's Extra... PUNCH*PUNCH*PUNCH,)
Well, there's a Peanut Butter and Chocolate cake with my name on it (literally... unless the baker misspelled my name as "Neal" again, in which case I'm stealing Neal's cake) so, as they say in... my head... "GET YOUR OWN!"
Current Mood: Older, but not Wiser
|Monday, March 14th, 2005|
Ah... another sucessful prank. This time, I disiphered Jon's Livejournal password, and posted the following. Probably the most entertaining part was writing an actual Neil Fan Club Anthem
for when a user clicked on his Current Music
selection. My goal was to keep it up as long as possible, without him finding out, (to combat his ultra sparingly once a month posts) so I disabled the auto-email for comments on the post. Of course, I can never resist dropping flagrant hints in these situations, mentioning his password every five seconds out of context when I chatted with him through AIM. Surprizingly, he didn't even notice, and I'll wager it was Mat's asking what the post was all about that tipped him off. Next time, I'll see that "Squeals Malone" is offed before starting a new caper, or at least bribed.
|Sunday, March 6th, 2005|
|It's not easy being cheap...
More and more it seems that shopping at my local dollar store is endangering my life. The other day I bought some earphones that might as well have been dual joy buzzers. Literally, the slightest bit of ear canal friction would cause a massive discharge of static electricity the likes of which no death row convict has ever known. Fifteen muscle spasms later, and I considered taking a personal loss of 1/100 of a "c note", and trashing the aforementioned repackaged torture device.
Alas, this isn't the first time I've had bargain basement troubles. Last time, excruciating pain came in the form of discount shaving razors. I'm not sure what I was expecting, with 20 shrink wrapped in a package with a man quaking in a pool of his own facial blood, but I'll be darned if the product didn't deliver. Looking like a cross between the elephant man and an "all you can Eat" cow heart and spaghetti buffet, I learned a valuable lesson that I would instantly forget: "If something appears too good to be true - HEY, A BARGAIN!" Needless to say, when I saw a pack of razors in the dollar store the following month from a different manufacturer, I greedily snatched them up, figuring that the last incident was a mere fluke. With much less irony than an O'Henry play, I found when I opened the package that these were the exact same face shredders that I had purchased in wolf's clothing - literally, since they had a picture of a wolf slitting his own jugular on the packaging.
Though the both of these incident pale in comparison to the horror that would befall my NEXT visit to "Cheap-Skate Central". On a lone CD rack in the middle of the spice isle (after all, who doesn't like a little music while popping whole cloves into their mouth?) was a familiar motley, and jaundiced crew. The veritable first family of animation, "The Simpsons". Somehow, one of their music albums must have fallen from the top sellers rack from an actual full fledged retail store into the dumpster that dollar stores usually retrieve their battered wares from. Knocking down every elderly lady in my path to procure the Compact Disk first (let's face it - old women often confuse any cartoon character from this century with the Post Office's Mr. Zip, who their spoiled nephew invariably loves) the one diamond in the rough was mine. I disregarded all traffic lights on my way home, as they're clearly designed for drooling people who are unable to save 98% on standard retail, as I had with my dollar acquisition. Breaking my front door down, I pressed that magical wedge of cheese that is the play button on my player device. My exuberance and joy were pronounced Dead on Arrival. This was the fated "Simpsons Sing the Blues" album. Instead of the wittily written and masterfully scored ditties from the show itself, these were custom "chestnuts" made to capitalize on the Simpson's fad of the early 90s. I winced through such auditory abominations as "Do the Bartman", Marge Simpsons's malodorous vocal strains belting out "Springfield Soul Stew" and finally, "Take the Suckers' Money".
As the month went on, my wastepaper bin filled higher and higher with newsprint chessboards, Used Shrink-wrapped Napkins, third world electronic devices that required cranking instead of batteries to function, wrist watches without a feature to set the time, pre-corroded batteries, Adhesives that would better to be used as lubricants, and other travesties against the functional. My only conclusion is this: It costs money galore to dump piles of worthless junk in landfills. These dollar stores have added a middleman to pay these fees FOR them, which is a good deal, considering they're obviously already being payed off by the actual successful retail chains to see that anything utterly unsalable is milked for all the unhappiness the middle class can absorb.
As for me, well, I've found that all the worthless crud I don't want can serve as perfect birthday gifts for people too polite to say anything about it. On that note, have a Pre-War candy?
|Wednesday, March 2nd, 2005|
|This Just In...
Sweet Heavens! The unthinkable has occurred! Whilst browsing the Animation World Network, I found an advertisement for a job. It required those interested, to animate a 30 second stretch of Flash footage as a sort of preliminary to weed out applicants, with one potential winner getting a cash prize and many other commissioned jobs down the road. I decided to throw my figurative hat into the proverbial ring, defying every instinct I had, not to mention how the Illustrator's Ethical Pricing Handbook strictly forbids anyone to do work on speculation, under penalty of being whipped with a butter churn. I still animated it, seeing as I really wanted some new work to put on my demo reel, and I felt it would be a good practice exercise for my Flash skills. Now it seemed utterly impossible, seeing that over 75 industry professionals entered their resumes and reels in this competition, and I pretty much gave it up as a lost cause as soon as I pressed the "send" button with my entry. Wanton Willie-nillery certainly paid off, as *I WON*. After passing out from the shock into a salad bar (which, incidentally, I never should have had installed in my bedroom), I relished my victory. So aside from collecting the highest per hour wage in my life to date, the piece is going to have exposure on the evening news - possibly country wide, considering the theme of the piece is "What will Dan Rather do, now that he's retiring?".
It's already up on the American Comedy Network, here: http://www.americancomedynetwork.com/FLASH/dan_rather.htm
I could not be happier. Couple this with fairly frequent work from one of my former professors in a video usability lab, and my standard gig at the Art Institute, I think I'm well on my way to not having to pick through dumpsters for accidentally discarded expired coupons!
Today, the American Comedy Network, tomorrow the *WORLD*...comedy network.
|Friday, January 14th, 2005|
|A Year in Review
In an ongoing effort to tell the people what they want, then give it to them begrudgingly, I submit the following:
Neil's LiveJournal Year in Review
Or: 2004, We Hardly Knew Ye
January: No Posts
Febuary: No Posts
March: No Posts
April: No Posts
May: No Posts
June: No Posts
July: No Posts
August: No Posts
September: No Posts
October: No Posts
November: No Posts
December: No Posts
Ah, what memories. Current Mood: Meh..they all blend together
|Sunday, November 14th, 2004|
Were *I* the head editor of Reader's Digest, I wouldn't run the standard boring "Real Life Drama" columns, rather, the following:
As I braved nearly 800 millimeters of frigidly packed, suspended ice particles, I started hearing a deafening cracking sound. Looking beneath my quivering feet, I noticed the very sheet of ice below me was rapidly disintegrating, leaving a mere few fragments between me and the toxic asphalt below. Just then, I realized the postal carrier truck swerved slightly toward me. I had to move and do it FAST. As I hurled myself across the parking lot I was hit by a stray spheroid of solid frost! I could feel the force throw my head asunder, while each of the tiny shards flung toward every inch of my face. I landed face down onto nature's hitman, the snow bank. My entire cranium blistered with the subzero kiss. I feeblely tried to steady myself with my last two remaining arms, but it was no use - I hadn't stopped for my morning coffee. I curled into the fetal position hoping for a miracle, but it just wouldn't come. I felt like sobbing like a little girl, but the saline leakings would have only frozen and finished me all the quicker. I could feel myself succumbing to unconsciousness. I held my head up one last time before it all went dark. I awoke several hours later, to find I was being jabbed with the handle of a shovel of one of the parking lot guardians. The sun had risen it's temperamental face, and given it's life to save mine. As my selfless friend lowered forever out of the sky, I thanked him one last time. I had survived, but at what cost? Current Mood: complacent
|Wednesday, September 15th, 2004|
|The Best Day of My Life...
It's rare that anyone takes me seriously, and with good cause. Though, I've found if I'm given even a modicum of this crazy thing called "belief" after saying something off the wall, I tend to run with it...for miles if need be. What you're about to read is 100% real (the chat, not the events listed!), one of my closest friends thoroughly prankified. While it may seem cruel, he was the best of sports about this, and found it just as funny as I did when I finally pushed my ruse a tad too far. Let me say, he's a prince among men, and he's certainly no fool. He just has a bad habit of not reading every word that's been written.
Ah, it was like I was Orson Wells, with his famous H.G. Wells "War of the Worlds" broadcast.
Enough prelude, here it is:
*** You have been disconnected. Tue Sep 14 22:43:19 2004.
*** captaintycho666 signed on at Tue Sep 14 22:48:37 2004.
NorvilleHardy: Sorry about that... Wireless networking issues...
captaintycho666: oh i see.
captaintycho666: upgraded huh?
NorvilleHardy: No, but my sister insists on using the one brand of wireless phone that wreaks havok with my router.
captaintycho666: oh i see.
captaintycho666: good old sibblings.
NorvilleHardy: Luckily, I think I've switched the frequency so hopefully her phone is bursting into flames as we speak.
captaintycho666: could it do that ?
NorvilleHardy: Only if I did it right...
NorvilleHardy: Smoke detector's going off...
NorvilleHardy: Oh crud.
NorvilleHardy: Ok... I convinced her it's because she put the plug in upside down...
captaintycho666: r u serious
NorvilleHardy: Luckily "wireless" = "anonymous"
NorvilleHardy: Singed her left eyebrow straight off....
NorvilleHardy: (she was holding the phone under her chin on that side of her face)\
captaintycho666: so do u feel goiulty or jubalent?
NorvilleHardy: She didn't want to scream, because my Grandmother was sleeping in the other room, so she apparently tossed the unit through her looking glass in rage.
NorvilleHardy: She doesn't take these things in stride.
captaintycho666: i dont know what to say
captaintycho666: u r an evil genious
NorvilleHardy: Oh !)(*@)(@
NorvilleHardy: She's screaching now...
NorvilleHardy: S*)&)(!*.... there's a giant scortch mark on the wall....
NorvilleHardy: It burned clear through the top she had hanging up on a hanger...
NorvilleHardy: How do you get burnmarks off of wallpaper?
captaintycho666: u r a fucking terrorist neil .
captaintycho666: is the paper burned?
captaintycho666: liek peeling off?
NorvilleHardy: Hey! Faulty technology played a small role in this!
NorvilleHardy: I mean like...
captaintycho666: i see
NorvilleHardy: Down to the plaster.
NorvilleHardy: Can you put new wallpaper ove rthe old?
captaintycho666: yah u can
captaintycho666: u need the glue though
captaintycho666: and ull have to sand down the wall
captaintycho666: to put the glue on to adhesa right
NorvilleHardy: All I've got is Superglue and a staple gun... it's going to have to do for tonight until I can get to the hardware store.
captaintycho666: sorry neil
NorvilleHardy: You know the LCD, the liquid crystal display on the phone for the caller ID?
captaintycho666: i know god has smote u cause of your friendship to me
NorvilleHardy: Maybe if I sacrifice you, all the evidence will burn.
NorvilleHardy: Oh anyway...
captaintycho666: yah possible
NorvilleHardy: The plastic part popped, and the corrosive liquid got all over her bedsheet...
captaintycho666: damn ...
captaintycho666: eat right through it huh?
NorvilleHardy: It's transPARENT now...
NorvilleHardy: OH !@O@!*@)(@!*
NorvilleHardy: I think she read my screen....she shot me a funny look.
captaintycho666: well u didnt say anything incriminating
captaintycho666: dont worry
NorvilleHardy: Good...I patched everything up... I told her that I was saying that this was LIKE the time a friend of mine fried his router.
captaintycho666: oh ...
NorvilleHardy: (!*@&*(! she walked back in.
NorvilleHardy: I think we should speak pig latin from now on.
captaintycho666: ok ..
captaintycho666: well how about those monkeys
NorvilleHardy: Ymay istersay isay a apsay, and she'll evernay atchcay on that I set her phone on fire.....ay
captaintycho666: damn monkeys
captaintycho666: yah everything comes out ..in the monkey
NorvilleHardy: !@()*+_!@.... she just asked my about my router....
NorvilleHardy: Apparently, the faceplate smoked up...
NorvilleHardy: It still works, but I think it was a bad idea to overclock the thing.
NorvilleHardy: I told her that it's because the two things were on the same circuit...
NorvilleHardy: Even though one was upstairs, and on down...
NorvilleHardy: On opposite sides of the house.
NorvilleHardy: Gosh, I love taking unfair advantage of ignorance of technology.
captaintycho666: just tell her maybe in some slim chance the fruences were the same whoich would possible cause a catatrosphib explosion?
NorvilleHardy: Are you telling me to ADMIT EVERYTHING TO HER? Are you a MADMAN?
captaintycho666: yah ... i mean no .
captaintycho666: just sudjest it
NorvilleHardy: !@*)& - there was a warning on the router about switching frequencies.....
NorvilleHardy: I'm ()!@*ing busted.
captaintycho666: she wouldnt know ...
NorvilleHardy: No, I meant she *read* it.
NorvilleHardy: Oh )*!@&...she's calling the police.
captaintycho666: god shes high strung
NorvilleHardy: S***....she just !@(@!^&( yelled at me that they said that it's sometihing like "Willfull negligence"...
captaintycho666: wow .... i cant beleiev your sis would rat u out
captaintycho666: thats horrible
NorvilleHardy: I'm F***ed if she presses charges.
captaintycho666: but u didnt do it to hurt her .. i can back u
NorvilleHardy: Oh this is bulls***...
captaintycho666: i agree
NorvilleHardy: SHe's trying to claim that it was an attempt on her life.
NorvilleHardy: F)@(!#* HER.
captaintycho666: wow.......your sis got problems
NorvilleHardy: This is just the !)@(*ing thing she's been waiting for to get me out of the house.
captaintycho666: amen to that brother amne
captaintycho666: should tell her to get her ass out of the house.....shes older than u
captaintycho666: but i digress
NorvilleHardy: I'm goingto make a break for it...I can't go to prision.
NorvilleHardy: I'm too pretty.
captaintycho666: neil .....lol....
captaintycho666: i know its not the right time to say claim down
captaintycho666: but claim down
NorvilleHardy: I!(*@& it... if I can get out of the house, I can have one of my firends lie for me and say I was with him all evening.
NorvilleHardy: It'll look like she caused the problem herself.
NorvilleHardy: I gotta go.
*** captaintycho666 signed off at Tue Sep 14 23:28:24 2004.
*** captaintycho666 signed on at Tue Sep 14 23:38:54 2004.
captaintycho666: u r ok
NorvilleHardy: All I can say, is I'm glad it was a FEmale cop.
captaintycho666: god u had me worried
NorvilleHardy: I gave her the best loving known to mankind, and she let me off with a warning.
captaintycho666: god .....
NorvilleHardy: I'm going to commit crimes more often.
NorvilleHardy: Crime DOES pay.
captaintycho666: thats still really assy of your own flesh and blood ....throwing u to the dogs liek that
captaintycho666: god dont say that
captaintycho666: if she sees that she'll call me over again
captaintycho666: them .
captaintycho666: not me
NorvilleHardy: Ok it's ok....when I realized I had legal immunity, I pushed mu sister dow nthe stairs.
NorvilleHardy: Let's just say, this won't be happening again.
captaintycho666: yah i hope for your sake and my hearts ...
captaintycho666: i almost had a corinary
captaintycho666: thump trhump
NorvilleHardy: Then I probably shouldn't tell you the rest.
captaintycho666: theres more heart pounding maddness
NorvilleHardy: The officer left me handcuffed to my chair.
NorvilleHardy: Real Handcuffs...
captaintycho666: not funny ..
NorvilleHardy: No key.
captaintycho666: u r dangerous ..
NorvilleHardy: I dunno... I can't very well ask my sister to get me a hacksaw from the basement.
captaintycho666: u r a loos cannon
NorvilleHardy: Guess I'll have to phone a locksmith.
NorvilleHardy: ....if I could reach the phone.
captaintycho666: she left u liek that ?
captaintycho666: shes gone
captaintycho666: and left u handcuffed.
NorvilleHardy: Long gone... I said I'd call her, and she said "yeah, right...men alre all pigs"
captaintycho666: ha ha ha neil u have me going there for a bit./
captaintycho666: good job
NorvilleHardy: Worse yet, I still have to bury the body.
captaintycho666: neil ....well its good to see u r in rare form still after all of that shit
NorvilleHardy: Mat..... I'm not kidding.
captaintycho666: about what the cuffs or ythe body?
NorvilleHardy: Nice... laugh at my troubles.
captaintycho666: u wouldnt be talking to mew if u had a fucking body on your floor oozing everywhere......
NorvilleHardy: I put it in a garbage bag... I've got plenty of time.
captaintycho666: and u shure as hell arent cuffed to the chair ...a cop never leave without there cuffs.
NorvilleHardy: Fine...She left the cuffs behind, and I was playing with them.
NorvilleHardy: I admit...dumb thing to do. After a few virtual punchs to my gullet, a few of my tears of..uh... joy, and a hearty, continuous laugh (by both of us) lasting well over a fortnight, the charade was over. Who will be next? I'm guessing anyone not sending me a bribe.
|Monday, June 28th, 2004|
|Stupidity is the mother of invention...
I've seen the future, and it's NOT this:http://www.humanbeans.net/powerpizza
It's a laptop carrying case...that's shaped like a pizza box. I'm telling you, this is the worst invention of the British since those aviator goggles that make you look like a mypoic pinhead while obstructing your view while you pilot a rickity pile of musilage held together by chewing gum. (Mental note... buy a pair of aviator goggles to invoke pity in the ladies) Anyways, let's think this through poorly thought out point by poorly concieved idea...Proposed Pro:
No one would ever think to look in a pizza box to find a laptop.Real World Con:
Pizza is a real community food, one in which it's VERY easy for an unscrupulous person to take a slice without anyone knowing. So, an already dishonest person reaches in for a slice of cardiac seizing solidified grease, and gets a top of the line Powerbook. So unless you're banking on a meal mooch to have some scruples, the design of this case will cause way
more thefts than a generic, boring briefcase.Proposed Pro:
The padding in the fake pizza box will shield the equipment from excessive pummeling.Real World Con:
Have you ever SEEN a pizza delivered without being glued to the lid? If professional pizza fabricators and delivery men WHO HAVE DEVOTED THEIR LIVES TO HANDLING PIZZA BOXES can't make it work, what chance does an average layman have of getting a fragile compendium of transitors and circuit boards from point A to point B in one piece.Proposed Pro:
It's hip and trendy to be seen sporting a kitchy laptop box.Real World Con:
You are a sad, sad person who needs an object to stand out because you're bland and forgettable.
So in conclusion, only those crying out for help in spending their vast undeserved fortune should buy one of these useless things. Or better yet, donate to my cause... "The Neil Fund for Keeping Large Sums of Money out of the Hands of Gullible Fools". It's tax deductable, and if the IRS disagrees, it's your constitutional right to engage them in fisticuffs.
|Sunday, April 25th, 2004|
|Whose Line at PPAC!!!
I just this minute got back from Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood's show at the Providence Performing Arts Center. It was absolutely hilarious! They played classic Whose Line games, like "Sound Effects", "Quick Change", "Whose Line" (the specific game), Film-Theater-TV Styles, and a bunch of new games, as well, like picking a married couple from the audience and acting out their daily routine, having them stop them every time they got something right/wrong about their home life! They also played a game of "Alphabet", but get this... with 100 mousetraps set on the floor, and Brad and Colin barefoot and blindfolded! I was delighted at how consistently funny both were, even without the tight editing on the television version of Whose Line. Laugh out loud funny from beginning to end! Truly a night to remember!
And best of all...
I GOT TO MEET THEM AFTER THE SHOW!!! Granted, my inelegant "UHHH...ERRR....ULP" probably did less to wow them, as much terrify and unnerve the two performers. In any case, they were genuinely nice, despite my babbling.
The two onstage, reading lines that the audience had written.
Leaving the room, for game in which Brad collects all sorts of information from the audience that Colin must guess!
A gentleman on and off the stage, Colin signs my ticket, too!
|Thursday, July 31st, 2003|
|What Could Be More Family Friendly than a Gory Murder Mystery?
Current Mood: Insipid (Wait...that's a personality trait)
Current Catchphrase: (Said after "defending" myself from inevitable attacks) "This banjo's got teeth!!"
Current Music: Go Get the Ax
(Gotta love a song with an applicable message - "Go get the ax, there's a flea on Lizzie's ear...")At 11:49 last night, Mr. Neil was found pummeled to death with a breakaway chair tied to a Nerf ball, or so it would seem. In fact, it wasn't Mr. Neil, but a paid impersonator, whose duties included acting as a makeshift mirror when only a plate glass window was available, splitting the cost of income taxes, and making lucrative Double Mint commercials with his employer. In a case like this, only a made-up colloquialism congealings of words will suffice, so...
: So, someone's trying to do me in. Luckily no one important was hurt, as I had yet to deliver my doppelganger's final paycheck before the fatal blow. Now there's only one course of action, other than calling the police, which would require the tedious pressing of at least seven buttons, and I can't be bothered with manual labor. Yes, the only thing to do is to catch the culprit using my cunning and wit...or at least all the power of my self-delusion to that effect.
First off, I'll narrow down all of the potential suspects, to only those whose eyes light up every time I recite that anecdote about that time I tried sticking my head in that outlet. Of course, that includes most of this hemisphere, so I'll have to be content with the four people who won't reject my overuse of cliché mystery movie devices.
I've invited (I.E. Blackmailed) the following individuals to spend the night at an abandoned old mansion whose sole purpose is to be rented out to expose killers. You have to pay extra for the suspicious butler, but he comes with the guarantee to take responsibility for the murderer's crimes so the detective can save face if need be. Anyhow, here are the prime suspects, in order of most to least likely:Jon (a.k.a. Sarcastro)
- He claims that he's my Arch Nemesis, though for that to be true, I'd really assume he should be a formidable foe. Also, considering his devotion to copying me as closely as possible in timeless facial hair styles and my witty catchphrases, he has to most to gain in getting my duplicate out of the way. Yes, poor Jon interviewed for the position a record number of times, to be my personal clone, but I've always found his grammar and poise lacking. Plus, I think his cross dressing might get my likeness entered into the wrong kind of contests.Kate (a.k.a. Phoenixst)
- If she's not drawing gory pictures, she's detailing in her writings the best way to forcefully remove anthropomorphic characters' entrails. She's made it her life's mission to make me appear foolish (I SAY GOOD LUCK, MADAM! BETTER TURKEY BASTERS HAVE TRIED!) and as such, I can only surmise, would like nothing more than to rearrange my position when I die so I look like my final act was something inappropriate, such as nostril exploration, kissing a lamp, or conceivably, certain hand gestures that are only meant for the open road. In any case, why wait for the inevitable day that I choke on a live newt, when she can kill me now? No, that's not an open invitation, I'm just trying to prove the point that I'm not wasting these four peoples' time, which could be better spend buying me shiny, overpriced things.Mat (a.k.a. Ravage)
- A sad tale of a soulless killing machine specifically bred by the US Military. There's nothing he likes more than to bite into a person's jugular, though why specifically target one of this generation's snappiest dressers (i.e. me)? (I still say that wrinkles enhance the visual flow of my attire) The answer is quite clear-cut...I'm honey roasted. Why suffer though dry, flavorless, gamey hobos when only Mr. Neil's special blend of spices and herbs will hit the proverbial spot? One wonders why I would bother to spend 16 hours daily to find the tastiest compliment to my flesh, which can be simply explained away as a ridiculous question to ask, when you really think about it. Plus, I'm far to busy with my culinary endeavors to research it.Zack (a.k.a. Zack)
- Why include the least able bodied of all among the ranks of my would-be assailants? Why is Zack: on such a list that would require him to be able to engage in feats implausible of his specific genetic variant? Sure, he can't lift more than his bodyweight (25 pounds), he forgets integral equipment rules (point the gun *away* from your face), and he exhibits incidents indicative of his lack of common sense (maybe I can bury my victim *before* the battle to the death to save time) So why include him? Well, *who* else would agree to bring a covered dish to a murder inquisition?
(The four suspects enter the room)Neil
: I bet you're all wondering why I called you all here, out in the middle of nowhere, in a building so rife with asbestos, house pets have a tendency to instantly fossilize here. Quite simply, a wrong has been committed, *so* wrong was it, that good deeds pale in comparison, even though it's not really fair to compare the two, considering...Jon
: Oh great, you think that one of us killed your stupid stunt double.Neil
: Well, you just ruined all of the suspense and theatricality! You're turning my murder-party into a farce, and not the good kind, where no one learns a lesson!Jon
: I'm not even warmed up yet...by the end of the evening, I'll have you convinced that *you* did it.Neil
: Speaking of which, I suppose I *don't* have an alibi for that night. If only I knew my whereabouts during the time in question, but you know how secretive I am...Kate
: Can I pull the switch when you fry for your crime!?!Neil
: We'll see...Mat
: (points) Are you going to eat that?Neil
: My left ventricle? Well...no....but then again I'm not in the habit of...Mat
: I CALL DIBS!! (Lunges and starts chewing on Neil's sternum)Neil
: Well this is annoying. Does anyone have a cheese grater? I can never get these things off...Zack
: I brought salad tongs!!Neil
: Your covered dish is a salad?Zack
: No...Tomato Soup!Neil
: Then why would you...I mean what purp...never mind...(breaks lamp over Mat's soft spot)Neil
: Now...down to business...I've locked all of the doors and windows, and escape is impossible. So...uh...essentially when we find out who the murderer is...we'll uh...be... trapped in here...with the psychopath. I'm wishing I hadn't swallowed the key now. Kate
: I can get it back with the tongs! (pushes Zack down and takes them) Now open wide, and make a hole in your throat for me! (Stabs Neil with tongs)Neil
: YAAAAA! Stop that! (swipes tongs and puts them safely in his back pocket) Now, the way I see it (has a seat) YAAAAAAAA! (Yelled in a much higher pick than previously)Zack
: Am I the only one getting lost with all this exposition?Jon
: Pretty much.Mat
: Did you shed any blood? Can I paint my face with it?Neil
: (glares) Now as I was saying, where were each of you on the night in question?Jon
: I was at work, shaking customers down for pocket change, in exchange for letting them continue to have working legs.Neil
: Admirable, yes...but can you prove this?Jon
: We have surveillance tapes... that look the same for every night I'm there...and that *I* have access to...Neil
: Well, I guess that rules you out.Jon
: Sometimes I tamper with the film, just to go out and get a beer. It's really easy to make it look like your there when you're not. Neil
: For crying out loud, spare me your life's story, I *said* you were out of the running.Jon
: Sometimes I wonder why I go through all this effort to come up with lies, when you won't even listen to me.Neil
: *Sigh* Kate, maybe if you tell me were YOU were that night, It'll drown out Jon's desperate pleas for attention.Kate
: I was too busy plotting how I was going to murder you ...Neil
: Well, that's relatable...many a night I've spent finding my weaknesses to use against myself...MAT? How 'bout you...?Mat
: Have you ever tried gnawing through a human skull?Neil
: Hmmm...that *would* take all night. Weighting the density of the cranium against the ruggedness of the human tooth, or grimy cougar fang in this scenario, I'd estimate it would take at least 40 hours, if you really do a "half rear-ended" job.Mat
: Uh...I think you're calculations are a bit off...let me show you (grabs Neil's head)Kate
: I'll hit him with my piñata stick to break the scalp and make it easier for you to digest!Neil
: Not necessary...I can break my *own* scalp! I mean...WAIT! I don't need a demonstration, get back in your cage, Mat! There's ...uh...a tasty baby inside...Mat
: I'm there! I love the noise they make when you crunch into them!Neil
: Now, I know it's a moot point, but where were *you*, Zack?Zack
: I was deciding if tomato soup or ramen noodles would be better to bring...Neil
: Zack, that would mean that I invited you to this inquisition *before* the murder...I think you're getting your dates mixed up...Zack
: No, I'm pretty sure that's what happened. So I decided to research what brand to buy at the library...Neil
: ...which would have been closed at the time of the murder...Zack
: Hey, you're right! I better turn myself in for breaking and entering!Neil
: Forget it...even if you *were* the assassin, I don't want to have to sit through a trial with you on the stand.Jon
: Can we go now?Neil
: Hey! No one leaves...ever! I mean, until I find out who committed this mildly upsetting act! Now Jon, you've expressed my (obviously non-existent) failings with more lotheful gusto than anyone else. I tend to think, despite your perceived perfection of me, you can't stand me.Jon
: Perfection? You're balding and can't go four minutes without mentioning Popeye cartoons, while I simultaneously beat you at everything you hold dear.Neil
: See...despite the fact that you worship me as a hero, you nitpick, and say things completely untrue. We all know that I've never lost to *anyone*, especially someone who can't tell the difference between Bluto
: What are you talking about?! Remember the time I duct taped you to your bed? If the firemen hadn't arrived, you'd *still* be stuck there! And, remember the time that I locked you out of your room when you were having those seizures because you forgot to take your medication? For crying out loud! I made you *bleed* once during a battle with foam blocks! Neil
: See, I think most of those things didn't happen, that you were so woozy from my beatings that you must have collapsed and hallucinated those memories.Jon
: And the photographs?Neil
: Taken completely out of context! Many the night, I've glued myself to the wall with you pointing and laughing. It looks like my predicament is making you laugh in the photo, but really it's something just out of view of the camera's range. Just for these lies, I'm making you the main suspect!Jon
: OK...but if every time we're pitted together is indicative of how the trial will turn out, I don't think I'll be losing too much sleep over this one.Neil
: Get into the cage with Mat! Jon
: And by that, I mean...stay out of the cage. See...you do whatever I command! Just another example of my tremendous sway over you. Now before you can get a word in edgewise...KATE!!!...*You* have openly threatened me, and even *consulted* me a few times about the best way to finish me off...Kate
: Oh...thanks for the hedge trimmer suggestion, incidentally...Neil
: Not at all. Anyhow, I find it hard to believe that you *never* intended to put your plans into action, as you've often claimed.Kate
: I meant as long as I didn't want you dead...Neil
: And this timeframe would be...Kate
: ...finished the day I met you.Neil
: Yes...well. You don't think that makes you a pretty likely suspect?Kate
: I told you...I won't kill you until the day you die at my hands...Neil
: Well that seems fair enough. Sorry to have bothered you...Kate
: You should buy me something expensive to make it up to me...Neil
: Well, I suppose that's in order. What do you want?Kate
: Poison dart gun, and a dart board with your picture on it, so I can practice hitting you in the eye, for when I really need to.Neil
: Well, you can't say it's not practical. In any case, MAT!!! Aside from my fragrant nature, you've stated in the past that you were going to *especially* enjoy tearing holes in me where they didn't belong.Mat
: Let me out, and I'll show you what I mean!Neil
: Answer the question!!!...that...uh...I didn't ask yet...Why would I be such a target for your rage?Mat
: Remember the time you saved my life? I think it's a sign of weakness, and it makes me want to cut and cut you until there's noting left to cut, and I have to resort to freezing your liquid remains to keep going.Neil
: If I had known that, I never would have choked on that peanut, fallen backwards, and accidentally pushed you out of the way of that charging bull!Mat
: Yes, well...ZACK!!...Zack
: Smell this for me...Is this light bulb still fresh and edible? Neil
: *Sigh* Forget it. I'm sick of all this tension building, time to get to the bottom of this...Now what would you say, if I said I had undeniable proof of the assailant's identity!? If I said, there was a video camera in that dank alleyway!! (pulls out cassette) That's right, the assassin will get what's coming to...
(The lights go out, and a cacophony of sounds are emitted)Neil
: Hey! Where did everyone go? I was bluffing! Now how am I going to find out who was to blame...(shrugs)...Eh...They were probably all innocent, and had to use the restroom or something...
Well, there you go, a happy ending, or at least as far as murder mysteries are concerned. Why *don't* more of those end on more upbeat notes? In any case, post any admissions of guilt or pastry recipes by clicking below...
|Saturday, July 12th, 2003|
|The Lesser of Two Evils...(Well, it *IS* politics...)
Current Mood: Not Applicable
Current Music: Hail to the Cheat...ahem...Chief
Current Catchphrase: "HEY! This cake decoration wasn't edible after all!!"
Despite the fact that this isn't an election year, I'd like to throw my hat into the ring for presidency, nay *king* of New England, and maybe the rest of the country if I have time. Why am I running you ask? It's not to better the world, it's not to help the underprivileged, it's not even to inflate my own ego (Though that will be a nice side effect). I, like 95% of all Americans, have an arch nemesis, who tries to talk like, look like , and generally *be* me. His colloquial moniker is Sarcastro, though I have it on good authority that he was born a commonplace, and much less impressive, "Jon". To demonstrate this flagrant emulation, I'll recount an actual incident, that you *know* is true, since I used the word "actual". Last year, after I grew a beard/moustache combo (A wuzzawoo, for short), he grew one two years before, just to spite me. Luckily my complete sway over his life, prompted feelings of remorse (for the only time in his life, apparently) and he shaved it (and a large chunk of hair on the side of his head - which he "claims" was an attempt at a self-hair cut) off in penance. All seemed right again in the world, but recently, he grew it back, and inexplicably now claims full ownership of the admittedly trendy (On a properly shaped head, certainly not the case with him) hair allocation pattern. Anyhow, to spite him, I'm going to make it illegal for *him* to breathe community air...but alas, this is currently beyond my admittedly vast power. Hence, my plans for world domination will have to be temporarily shelved whist I overtake a collection of North-Eastern States. Though, if I know Jon, and his tendency to imitate those he admires excessively, I may have competition in this election. Even though I'm the favored candidate, and could win an election versus him, even without putting clothes on when going to the debates, I feel a need to point out his weaknesses, just to sway those who always vote for the candidate who's prematurely graying. In any case, here's a list of the pros and cons of both the perfect and "Hindenburg-disaster-caliber" choices for candidates, so you the citizen, can *claim* to be well informed, without all of that tedious "looking at both sides of the issue"...
1) I'm in favor of cutting taxes, while Jon claims he would use the ill-gotten money to tout the merits of the METRIC system, a flagrant abuse of power! Just think of it, *you* the citizen will have to learn *French* and *Egyptian Hieroglyphics*, just to be able to calculate how much to tip the waiter at your local beanery! Or...with MY plan, you'll finally be able to afford leaving a robust 5% tip thanks to the money you're saving at Uncle Sam's expense! You'll also have that extra satisfaction of really sticking it to those governmental FAT CATS, who I disassociate myself from for reasons that I'll get into later during the final moments of my campaign, after it's too late to get your ballet back.
2) I have a plan to lower the deficit, and it won't cost you a bit of time/effort/moral ambiguity! We'll just stop spending money, by making all governmental positions volunteer jobs. (Except for the Position of President/King, who must exude a certain dignity, lest we all get invaded by Switzerland) Meanwhile, Jon would inevitably run up a huge bar tab in the Presidential Boozatorium, (which is what I surmise he would rename Congress) at the taxpayers' (or as he calls them "Suckers'") expense. Then again, it may be better for him to be consistently drunk, due to the fact that he's violent and foul-mouthed when he's sober. Granted, he's these things when he's drunk too, but at least his slurred speech will hide the poor ideas and fragment sentences that normally emanate from his (often unwiped) mouth.
3) Everybody knows the face of truth, honesty, and the American way, and it's not that of Ol' "Scarface" Jon! While *my* chiseled visage imbues anyone who happens upon it with an obligatory smile, *his* is too busy looking shifty, trying to find the best way to steal your wallet and any internal organs not properly duct-taped into your body cavity. While I plan to be a family man, even going so far as planning to order mandatory dates from my onboard staff in order to reach the apex of marital bliss and the integrity that such a unison implies to the rabble, *Jon* is content to frivolously wasting (probably extorted) money to achieve the same means. Now I'm not saying mail order brides are a bad thing by themselves, but when someone orders four or five of them, you can't help but start asking questions.
Well there you have it. I don't know about *you* but those starling facts have totally convinced *me* as to who the better candidate is. In fact, judging from my poll result's 95% of Americans are behind *me*. So if you consider yourself Un-American, by all means, vote for the uncertain future and possible collapse of Democracy under Jon, (thrice arrested on phone scam charges and lewd conduct with a coffeemaker.)
I'll leave it you the common sense of you, the well-dressed and moderately priced voters...Post a reply to this entry to submit a ballet. It's totally confidential, except for the fact that Live Journal posts your account name with your entry, but don't worry...I won't look at that. And all "Anonymous" entries will be discarded, since there's no way of knowing who exactly is stuffing the ballets. (Which I don't care if that is done, I just want to know who's doing it) VOTE!! It's your duty as a potential draft-dodger of the future...
(For a complimentary C-note kindly type "Disregard the above text - I *really* vote for Neil" at the bottom of your ballet)
|Sunday, June 29th, 2003|
|Cruise Control (you'll get that one when you're older)
Current Mood: Normal-ish (Or a poor approximation thereof)
Current Catchphrases: "You're flirting with death..." and "I ought to beat you within an inch of your life!" (Can you tell that I've been trapped in a vessel with 6,000 pushy tourists for the past week?)
As many of you have heard, and still don't care about - I recently went on vacation. In keeping with life's tradition that I often receive much more than I ever deserve, it was a Caribbean Cruise, um...to the Caribbean. To comply with our do-anything-to-quantify-everything society, I've compiled a Vacation-Stats chart to allow everyone to compare their vacation to mine, with the understanding that the more enemies I make, the less dull moments my life will have. Aside from annoying those who'd rather not hear about my escape from work (in this example of the non-existent variety), you can attempt to match or surpass my impressive standings, if you believe your meager vacation can best mine. If your hatred is true, an angel will lose his wings. Have at it...
Vacation Stats:Locations Visited
- (4) -
- That's right, the cruise company owns their own private island in Haiti - Ah, the joys of consumer excess.
*Ocho Rios, Jamaica
- where buying souvenirs isn't optional in the minds of the vendors. While there, I got to climb Dunn's River Falls, which is natural rock filled water incline. Luckily, tourists provide the softest landing when slipping from the slimy rocks. (It's also fun to yell "I got you!" when the person in front of you starts to fall, and take their wallet while they contract amnesia from the impact, which I've ironically dubbed "Brotherly Love", which assumes that your sibling is a thieving urchin (not far from the truth in my case))
*Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands
- I went snorkeling with the stingrays, which look, smell, and *AHEM*taste like portabella mushrooms, right down to the giant death spike, and taste for human flesh. Woe be to he who bathes in appetizing squid juice before getting into the water...sometimes you can only learn about these things the hard way...
- Their government paid $30,000 a piece for 6 dolphins from Fidel Castro. If I've learned one thing out of this whole trip it's that Cuban dolphins are just as hard to smuggle into the USA as Cuban cigars. Indigenous Species Destroyed
- (1) -
It was worth it to see the looks on those vegetarians' faces when I barbequed a dolphin. Luckily, their spindly physiques prevented them from stopping my feast...and being able to stand after my savage (read: relaxingly minimal) beatings...Number of Woman Who Hit on Me
- (0) -
Yeah, the ladies on the islands are pretty much the same as those here in the US of A. Curse the Non-blind!!!Pounds Gained
- (8) -
Essentially, vacation locales aside, the real reason people go on ocean cruises is because they're dangerously underweight, and require non-stop nourishment that can only be provided in the form of force-fed buffet of 95% butter-based dishes. Those were the most well-fed, starving individuals that I've ever seen.
And I'm starting to think the soft-serve ice cream machines around the ship weren't meant to be used as a milk-substitute in the coffee.Miles Traveled
-(3100 miles each way) -
most of which weren't walked, or not spent complainingTime it took to calculate "Miles Traveled"
- (Entirely too long for a throw-away gag)
35 minutes? I hope you ingrates appreciate my meticulous care when it comes to insignificant details!!Most time harping on an unfunny joke
- (Time it took to calculate 'Miles Traveled') -
JUST LAUGH, !(*)!@()! IT!!!!! Humor me so it doesn't seem like I've wasted another chunk of life!!! I laugh at all of *you*, and that's when you all are doing mundane tasks like eating or falling, while not even telling jokes!!Money Lost in Onboard Casino
- ($11) -
Perhaps there's a problem with my method of playing only machines that have already paid and emptied out their maximum jackpot. Well, if someone one *once*, why can't it happen again? Dollars of my *own* money spent
- ($20) -
I would have bought some Island Souvenirs, but you start to wonder about decorative patterns that look strangely similar to the text "Made in Hong Kong". Amount of skin damage due to sunburn
- (95%) -
Well, most of it peeled off, which while painful, at least gave me a duplicate Neil shell to use when I fake my own death. I hope no one notices it's missing hair and clothes - well, then again, no one has noticed that on *me* yet... Popeye Sightings
- (3) -
There were two Popeye animation cels in Onboard Art Auction! Pshaw to the original Dali's when there's a squinty-eyed runt to be had. I think we both know which I'd save if the boat started to sink, and the dining hall was closed. Also, one night the entertainer in the onboard Theater was an impressionist, who did a Popeye (and Bullwinkle) impression while manipulating a Kermit the Frog Puppet! "AgAgAgAgAg! Why Is Dere So Many Sorngs Abousk Rainbowsk?" I'm sure that child who volunteered to be on stage will be recounting that to a psychiatrist some day...Demeaning Things the Waiters and Various Service People Were Forced to do
Sing, Dance, Wave Flags of Countries opposing their nationality, Carry Flaming dishes on their heads, and Clean up after my unsuccessful attempts to open an uncut dinner roll without disemboweling it. (Oh, how I wish I were kidding about these...)How Far I got up the On-Ship Rock Climbing Wall
- (12...inches) -
Well, at least it was high enough to create the illusion that I was high above from a certain vantage point - oh, the camera - the most trustworthy liar there is...How many Times I Fell while In-Line Skating On-Board
- (0) -
It takes a certain type of petrified flailing to keep oneself upright, and it doesn't hurt to use little kids skating by as makeshift canes - Hey, they're young, their spines are resilient, they'll get over the paralysis...The Number of Times I Had to Listen to the Song "Lust for Life"
- (12 billion) -
Curse you, Royal Caribbean Cruselines! You have us on the ship, and you STILL have to badger us to take a cruise with your stateroom TV commercials - *ALL* of which playing the same song, three times for each of the commercial breaks every five minutes!!Number of meals ingested daily
- (1) -
but it was a round the clock, non-stop one...
Well, I worked hard having fun all week, so you all can go entertain yourselves now, or bore yourselves to death...I'm sure you're already halfway there after reading my Journal...Bon Appeteeeeeete (As my waiter pronounced it...oh, those wacky Croatians...)
|Friday, June 20th, 2003|
|On Sabbatical (a.k.a. Goofing Off)
Get ready to stuff your tear glands with kleenex...I'm going on a week-long sabbatical!
But what will you do with yourself whilst I'm away? Well, let's face it...if you come here, you must be *very* easily amused, so I recommend counting the ridges on a checker. Both provide the same amount of "laughs", and fill the void between meanial labor and sleep.
And yes...I'm aware that I usually don't post more often than once a week, making this entire entry pointless and a waste of everyone's time.
Incidently, I'll be out of the country, for anyone who wants to userpt my identity...if you want my credit card bill, you can have it...
|Sunday, June 15th, 2003|
|'Bout Time! (clever pun alert)
Current mood: Palooka-ish (Apparently, I'm one tough Gazookas)
Current Song: The Punchout Theme
We now take you to the gymnasium of the beautiful Belvue Sanitarium for the ...
FIGHT OF THE FORTNIGHT
In this corner, at a weight of (censored) pounds, well, when derobed (don't ask how we got this information, it's not a pretty story), is The Original Whooping Cough....Neil!!!
And in this puddle of dried sweat, at 16 oz. is...a can of sweet nibblet corn!!!
Let's go and have a word with the contenders before we get down to the semi-involuntary bloodshed...Announcer:
Mr. Neil, you've been described as a very passive fighter in the ring, often waiting for the wrong bell, resting when you're supposed to be fighting, and punching when your opponent is turned getting advice from his manager during the break, how do you think you'll fare tonight?"Neil:
To be honest, I'm a little nervous. They've flown this organic killing machine in from South Dakota. I've heard they spar with wheat thrashers there...well, only once I mean, but just the idea of a group of people who are willing to off themselves in order to be the best fighter possible gives me the willies. Is that the right phrase? "The willies"? That's when you bleed from your pores when you're too nervous to sweat, right? Say, can you validate my parking?"Announcer:
Scathing words from a confident fighter. Will his hubris be his downfall? Only time will tell. Now let's check in with our other pugalist..."Announcer:
Mr...Del Monte...You seem to suffer from the hindrance of being an inanimate object, how will you endure in the ring?"Can of Corn:
It's certainly too close to call right now, unless the ceiling collapses on one of our starring face mashers, also known as the "Stinger Punch", a favorite of Muhammid Ali's.
With only moments to fight time, will the fighters finish filling out their insurance forms before the bell sounds?Neil:
(looks at watch) OOOOOOHHHHH! Only 4 minutes...! How do you spell HMO? Gender!? I have no time to check for certain! I'll just put something down and make my body conform to it later! Ooooohhh..... (sweats, making ink run on page, futilizing efforts)Can of Corn:
Well, *some*one's too confident to apply for insurance. This announcer has a feeling this lone canned good has an ace up his sleeve...erm...well, on the underside of his label, at least...(Bell Chimes)
Neil circles around the can prancing sporadically, stopping intermittently to zip his broken zippered fly back up. The Can of Corn just sits there, surveying his opponent, desperately searching for a weakness. (Little does he suspect Neil is majoritively weaknesses.) The first blow! Neil strikes with a mighty haymaker sending the can hurtling into the unwashed and fowl-mouthed crowd. Imbued with a sense of fury, the packaged vegetable comes speeding back with the force only drunken rabble can supply, directly into Neil's cranial softspot! The mighty warrior...um...I mean...the flimsy punch absorber stumbles backwards from the massive wallop. Exposed to the squishiest part of the exposed brain, the can ricochets back onto the soiled mat. The corn can continues to roll, while Neil plummets backwards! I terrific crash can be heard followed by many unprintable yelps of pain and obscenity! The can rolls a victory shuffle, which is cut short by the bell - Not the ring ending bell, but the fire alarm bell! Apparently, the boxing stadium is on fire!! Contractually, neither fighter is allowed to leave the ring, so the fight goes on! Neil dashes for his spit bucket, which is a vintage antique bearing the 1920's feel good motto of "Spit in here". In a daring fit of contempt for the rules, he uses the 12 gallons of accrued spit to douse his smoldering hair, which seems to have the added effect of adding more body and luster to it in the process. The two continues to circle (and roll in a circle around) each other. The sprinklers activate, causing the canvas in the ring to expand and warp like Orson Wells at an all-you-can-eat restaurant! The can dashes wildly on the newly formed incline, flying off the top of a water damaged ramp and uppercutting his opponent!! Dazed, Neil starts singing a slurred version of the HMS Pinafore! Before he can get to the refrain, the round bell chimes! We've all been spared by the bell on this one!
Suffering major head trauma, Neil can no longer move the left side of his body, which is no major hindrance, since he never felt a need to use it in the first place.
The can of corn has sustained a massive dent when it struck the corner of Neil's overly thick skull! Perhaps with years of physical therapy it will once again be able to play the Sousaphone, but in the mean time, it's got *bigger* problem to deal with, and I mean that in the most derogatory way possible, the big oaf!
(Bell tries to chime, but is rusted from the sprinklers, causing sparks to fly, scalding those who paid extra for the "burn to death" section)
Neil wastes no time in tearing directly into the can, even before the round officially begins! That's initiative for you! Unfortunalty for him, the can magnificently stands completely still causing Neil to masterfully trip over it, flying toward the side post, knocking him down! While he strategically drools, the can rolls back, prepared in case Neil is somehow still alive and needs theraputic pummeling! Neil's manager pours scalding oil on him, possibly by accident, as evidenced by his speech of "This'll fix that lazy wino!". Neil pops up with third degree burns that this announcer has never seen the likes of outside of a third world toy factory! Not one to learn from his former mistakes, he trips over the can again! He flops backwards after mashing his head on the carelessly placed spiked microphone in the center of the ring. Why is it spiked you ask? Probably because our lack of forethought knows no bounds! It looks like Neil's finished, as he flops back like a clubbed baby harp seal, and just as cute. But the can's gone AWOL!? Sweet Creamery Butter! NO! The can's been stomped to compost shavings! What's that leaking out?! Creamed Corn!? Oh the Veggie-manity! But Neil seems to be out cold, too! A draw!? The crowd doesn't like this one bit...as evidenced by all of them having left 5 minutes into the first round. With both fighters having incurred bone crushing injury, the chance of a rematch before 15 years of recuperation and mooching off welfare seems unlikely. Let's have a final word with the fighters...well former fighters, I mean...now they're more like lifeless entrails...Announcer:
Mr. Neil, despite all of your sucker punches and loaded gloves, you seemed to be struggling in there for most of...well...you life"Neil:
I'm telling you, I didn't see half of those blows coming. Maybe I shouldn't have a taken a shot of rubbing alcohol before the fight"Announcer:
You know, that's supposed to be used to loosen up you muscles"Neil:
Obviously, Poindexter! Why else would I have drank it?"Announcer:
And now onto the canned corn...say...where did he get to?Neil:
(shoveling a yellow paste into his gullet) I....GULP....dunno
We call that a TKO in the biz...
Well, that ends another pointless invasion into my privacy! Post comments on the fight, such as how great Neil is, how tough he had to be to only get half-beaten to a pulp, and donate money to the Neil Permanent Retirement fund...for...war widows...(shifts eyes)
|Sunday, June 8th, 2003|
|Summer antics that don't require leaving home...ever...
Current Mood: Maple Syrupy
Current Catchphrase: "I think better when I'm groggy" (Said whilst operating wrecking ball)
Current Song: The sound a balloon makes when you rub it.
Greetings lackadaisical, intermittent popper-inners! Today we have a special treat for you: culinary tips from a man who can barely operate a microware, let alone an automated melon baller! That's right, I'll teach you how to maximize whatever meat substitute you have lying around at those long, tedious, summer barbecues. (Just remember to invite me...I'll be ****ed if I'm gonna pay -out of MY own pocket- to test-run these alleged consumable masterpieces...)
Tip 1- Keep 'em Guessing
Don't you hate it when at Christmas you get a power drill that's been wrapped with no box? Eye injuries aside, it's because its shape gives it away. (stay with me now) It's the same way with most Barbecues. People see red and yellow chunky congealed suspensions in shapely containers and immediately think, "Ketchup and Mustard *sigh*......I gotta go slit my wrists now..." Well now you can help to keep your property value up by keeping the body count down. How's this, you ask? Replace all of your current condiments with look-a-like items! Instead of ketchup, use Tabasco mixed with molasses. Instead of ice cubes, use pointy shards of glass. Instead of relish, use enraged killer bees. The thing is, keep them guessing! People love a surprise even if it shaves a couple years of their life. Just interpret screams and cursing as a sincere form of thanks...which is also a great way to get through a vacation in France...
Tip 2- "Accidents" can work to your advantage
At every party, there's always some shouting lout who's vocal intonations drown out all hopes of other conversation. (I know this, because every party that I've ever been to has *me* there. I wish something would happen to that jerk's voice box) Now's your chance to get your perfect revenge whilst looking like the perfect host. Strategically undercook certain portions of food who's destination is the obnoxiousm one. A few stomach pumpings later, he'll learn to eat before he comes. While this doesn't solve your problem, at least you save a few bucks on meat, helping you afford a hit-man, which does!
Tip 3- Untold Application of Garden Hose
Well, you've slaved over a hot grill and breathed in numerous carcinogenous fumes, now there's nothing to do but sit back and relax. But how can you relax with jabbering troglodytes infesting your lawn? Just because you invites there people to your house doesn't mean that they have any right to stay after they hand you wine or potato salad at the door. That's where your old buddy, the garden hose comes in. People may stick around and foster your playfulness through recipricality if you use mere water, so further actions must be taken. Doubtlessly, you've seen those fertilizer sprayers that attach to an ordinary water spigot, so why not take an empty one of these (I recommend buying a full on and dumping the contents into your neighbor's lawn spelling out obscene things that won't appear for a few months) and fill it with artificial dye red number 32. Then, order ambulance after ambulance to come for "a few friends who stayed out in the sun dangerously long and are in denial". After they're forcibly strapped down, they'll be carted away at their *own* expense - and you save on not having to deal with repeat guests!
And if you're wondering why I didn't get to any recipes like I promised, I pity you for your unwarranted sense of trust.
That's all I can offer...leave a massage at the beep...
|Thursday, May 29th, 2003|
Well, if you've been reading the journals of those on my buddy list (and if you have, I consider you a traitor worse than Benedict Arnold and The Pilbury Doughboy combined) you've seen this piece of propaganda...
(Quoted from phoenixst, without expressed written permission)
When will Neil update his journal?
This is the post where I pick someone to annoy about updating their journal, thus becoming the stereotypical livejournal, or should I say "LJ", user!
Today's victim is my friend Neil! Hi Neil! Everybody wave! That's right! I'm using my livejournal as an indirect source of e-mail! Yay! This way I can not only annoy Neil, but I can annoy everyone who reads my journal by using it to send personal messages instead of documenting my life like a Discovery Channel special!
Now, you might be thinking: "hey, Neil has just as much right to neglect his journal as anybody! Why don't you leave him alone you big bully!" Well, you're absolutely right! But since today I'm playing the role of the average 13 year old irritation-child, I have no need to listen to reason. So, he gets a rant anyway:
NEIL! Update your livejournal. I demand it in the whiniest, most high-pitched voice ever!
There. You have been ranted. Consider this a warning. If you don't consider this a warning... well, this wasn't really meant to be taken seriously anyway. Cheerio, old chums!
So you see my dilemma, if I post in my LiveJournal *EVER* again, I look like I'm as foolishly impressionable as a young child told that working hard will get him ahead in life. But being an utter weasel (not an invective in my personal dictionary - which also includes the word Festizio) I'm not taking this lying down, nor am I solving the problem using time nor effort. That's right! A Virtual clip show! I'm just cutting and pasting my hackneyed response to the aforementioned letter. TAKE THAT! I won't take such treatment lying down...oh wait, I am - but in an insolent kind of way...
(Quoted from MrNeilEsq without his consent (the poor, mindless SAP!))
All right, there lil' miss! You've just bought yourself a longer hiatus! I've decided (Just this moment, mind you) to go on semi-indefinite sabbatical! But what will I do with all of my pressing anecdotes and uncontainable thoughts? That's right! Never had them, never will! It's the best part of being a virtual introvert is that you're stingy with sharing your sentiments to begin with! Now thanks to this diatribe/character-assassination I'm keeping EVERYTHING to myself! That means when someone I know passes me on the street, rather than chance getting a nosy inquiry about my opinions on the weather, I'll merely crowbar their kneecap and dash to the nearest bordering country. Even if I'm on fire, now I'll opt to walk it off rather than calling for assistance (ironically, the firemen in my town react the same way to uneventfullness as to me burning alive - that is, ordering another overpriced coffee and casually listening to the inevitable cursing). Because, when you really think about it, my greatest gift to the world is my well thought out verbal discourses, which I am promptly enforcing an embargo upon. Oh, wait - maybe *that's* the greatest gift I have to offer.
That's all you get! Now be gone, Livejournal Addict!