Ranch Dressing Heritage Week - Day 4
- I found this Ranch Dressing product at a Speedway in rural Indiana about 2 years ago. Naturally, I went through these babies fast. Everyone wanted a taste... if you know what I'm saying.
Make oral sex buttermilky!
Ranch Dressing Heritage Week - Day 3
- Ranch Dressing Vs. Ketchup
The ultimate showdown took place this past summer at Columbus' "Littlest & Bravest Firefighters Picnic." Volunteers rounded up kids from local children's hospitals, placed them in matching outfits and gave them firehoses pumped with the region's two most treasured condiments. Which viscous substance would reign supreme!?
Looks like a tie!! Oh wait... Uh oh!!
We should all be thankful this wasn't "Mayonnaise w/ Pickle Relish vs. Ketchup" because then these poor kids would be slathered with Thousand Island dressing. Who wins then? No one. Don't fuck with Ranch Dressing.
Ranch Dressing Heritage Week - Day 2
- Day two of Celebrate Ranch Dressing 2004 takes us into the home of a typical Ohio family. Everyone needs a place to relax after a long shift at work.
Midwestern sensibilities and modern convenience collide with this stunning Ranch Dressing Bathtub. Easy to install, the specially treated fiberglass frame keeps the ranch dressing cold and the chicken fingers hot. Submerge yourself in this lifesize ramekin and let your troubles ooze away!! Available only at Meijer.
The best feature of this tub is that it doesn't have a drain!!!
Ranch Dressing Heritage Week - Day 1
- For nearly a decade, the Midwest and Ranch dressing have been developing a steamy and sordid relationship. Many readers might not know about some of the Ranch dressing based products available only in Ohio & Michigan. Longtime wotSAT critics, Erika & George, have alerted me to the following!
From the makers of GoGurt, the yogurt in a long colostomy bag, is GoRanch! It's Ranch dressing on the go!
mmmm...so yummy! This Ohioan loves her GoRanch tubesicle!!
Winning Cover Letter 2
- Dear Burning Bridges Greeting Card Company,
I am the human you have been waiting for! Look how easygoing and fun I am simply by adding an emoticon after this sentence. :^) I have the skills, the passionate urges, and the barely legal boyish good looks you demand in a future employee. You don’t believe me? Take a look at these amazing professional references!
“That [Nate S.] is the biggest piece of [ something delicious like a Softbatch cookie. He’s so wonderful at everything he does. I would never again call him a no good fat useless zero fatty on the school loudspeaker during the morning announcements after he got me fired and convicted of child endangerment.]
--Colleen Chapman, Former High School Principal
“When he came on board Chipotle as an unpaid intern in our chicken grilling department, my first thought was that this guy must have really fucked up somewhere along the road of life. I soon realized he was just here for the comped burritos. He really changed how we do things at Chipotle. We’ve now replaced all of our cheap Mexican labor with free intern labor.”
-- Luiz Chimichanga, General Manager/Intern Coordinator, Chipotle Mexican Grill
“Nate S....Yes, I remember him. He used to mow my lawn.”
-- Wanda Stankonia, Next Door Neighbor from 4/93 to 9/93
Clearly, I am perfect for the customer service representative position you have open at Burning Bridges. I have been a customer for many years and have had many substantive experiences servicing people. I will be available for interviews all next week, however, I won’t be available for drug testing for another two months should you choose to require such silly (and often inaccurate)things. Please contact me!!!!!!!!11 :>)
I found an amazing potential employer today.
- Hey New York, is anyone else heading out to the Pat Freestone concert tonight at 8PM? I LIVE their sound. Think Bon Jovi only totally emo. The most amazing thing about this event is that I didn’t think Pat Freestone was a real person. I guess he must be real if he has a website and a wicked backup band composed of former members of Creed!
Sadly, I don’t have anyone to go with to the show now that Oasis left me and Debbie has presumably died. Maybe the concert will cheer me up. Or maybe not.
Ugh. I’m so kinda not-really blue. I’m barely in the mood to email my resume out to business executives. I found an amazing potential employer today called Burning Bridges Greetings. I think I’d be no less than somewhat less than perfect for this particular greeting card factory. However, I’m too sad about all the recent marginally crushing emotional losses in my life to deal with cover letters right now. Perhaps I’lll forward my letter of intent tomorrow. Let’s hope they don’t fill all their positions!
Totally IN...In a NYC Elevator!
- -Impromptu campfires.
-Throwing a little bouncey rubber ball as hard as possible at the walls.
-Throwing a 12 pound bowling ball as hard as possible at the walls.
-Going down... on people!
-Going down and up...the shaft!
-Hitting the button to every floor. Take time to smell the roses.
-Listening to your checking account balance using the speaker phone option on your cell phone.
-Praying loudly that we don’t all die in this godforsaken elevator.
-Unless you’re trying to show the Pret A Manger delivery boy how gay you really are, always abide by proper distancing standards.
-Smoking cigarettes before entering the elevator. Don’t be embarrassed about how you smell like butthole.
-Recount to coworkers the time you got stuck in an elevator and that from now on you ALWAYS use the bathroom first before getting in.
-If you’re in an elevator with a famous celebrity, don’t panic silently. Earn their respect by screaming maniacally about how you love them and their oeuvre.
The Countdown: The Finale
the open door, orginally uploaded by winnerofthesat
“Get out, you piece of turd! You think you’ll find someone better than me to take care of you? You’re wrong!”
“You wanna leave, so just do it already.”
The cat started moving for the open door.
“Wait,” I howled tearfully. “Don’t leave me baby!!! Please! You’re all I’ve got.” My face streamed with salty rivers.
Oasis stood motionless in front of the entrance, staring through me.
“Sweetie, I can change. I didn’t mean it. You know I wasn’t just gonna take you to the vet. Stop looking at me like that. Baby. I’m ssss...I’m..s uggh...ssssssorr...ew.”
I choked on those stupid words like The Fonz.
Maybe that’s all he wanted to hear.
I ran 3 feet to my unmade bed and threw myself in, pounding the pillows with jealous rage. I can’t believe he chose a whole amazing world full of wonderful opportunity over me! I waited for the door to close before I sat back up.
Looking out from the window, I saw Oasis exiting the brownstone, peering North on 5th Avenue, Brooklyn. He glared back at me from down there one last time, squatted and let out a painful looking massive diarrhea laden dump all over the porch and the sidewalk. The shit kept flowing, bowels erupting like Sakurajima.
I scrambled down to the front stoop to chase him away. But he was already gone. I looked down at the pile he left and saw something blinking from within the mess. WTF?! I ripped off a branch from a neighbor’s miniature bonsai tree in their windowsill and poked at this flashing object.
It was a small chip--a tracking device?
From the Webmaster: Here is complete set of links to Oasis. He will be missed.
First Appearance of Oasis
Oasis ruins wotSAT's computer
wotSAT Uses Debbie's computer
The Countdown Begins
9 More days
8 More days
7 More days
5 More days
3 More days
2 More days
Last Appearance of Oasis(?)
Oasis Tribute Band
Oasis is Given an Option
oasis' Glamour Shot, originally uploaded by winneroftheSAT
I asked for some advice from the friendly folks in the the Craigslist Pet Forum on what to do with Oasis and I received some real guidance:
Catmom idiotically writes:
“You know goddamn well that if you spent a sliver of the energy you gleefully fritter away on publicly playing "god" with that cat's life, and instead spent the energy on how to re-home him, your problem would be solved by now. I'm here with my beloved cat of 15.5 years knocking at death's door right now - due to serious URI he innocently caught from a newly adopted 4 yo cat (who arrived with broken promises of health). You don't deserve to read the details of his suffering, because you'd probably enjoy it. If you were on the left coast, I'd plan a day trip just to come bitch-slap some sense into your juvenile morbid ass. But since you're 3000 miles away I'll have to settle for knowing that, as sure as sun rises & sets each day, the disgusting karma you send out WILL INDEED boomerang to kick your ass one day.”
Luvthemcritters thoughtlessly says:
“[Blogging down the days until you take Oasis to the vet] passes a bad message to people. I think if people have the time to produce this kind of crap, they could be picking up trash or making lunches for the elderly or something that will make a difference.”
Anonymous 1 bores:
“Place a real ad, at the very least, man. Try your local newspaper and rescue groups. Or, post flyers if you can abandon your precious blogs and forget your SAT score long enough to do so.”
Anonymous 2 blathers:
“Let me guess, you were an only child and you pull stupid shit like this to get attention from your parents. Well get over it, just except the fact that you have failed as a human being. I would wish you to be reincarnated as a cat that is in the same situation as your cat...But then I would have to pity you b/c you would be a helpless animal. So instead I shall wish you a great big "Fuck you" and I hope we never meet in person... Adios Ass-hole”
So, in light of all the suggestions I’ve been given, I decided to grant Oasis an option. For the next 24 hours, I will leave the door to the apartment wide open. I looked the cat straight in the eyes and decreed, “Oasis, should you wish to choose life over inevitable death, the door is now permeable. I pray that you navigate out of the apartment complex, for your fate here is grim. Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?”
He stared me down with his attentive leonine gaze and then coughed up the biggest furball I’ve ever seen. Hacking and convulsing his entire body, Oasis spat a mass of hair and saliva and unknowables onto the wood floor. The clump of indigestibles spooled about and the cat defiantly placed it's paw on the furball to squish it into the paneling.
So the gauntlet is thrown, is it Oasis? You think you can make it in this cold world without me? You are nothing. Nothing without me. The door is open!
A Poem: "The State that I am In"
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
Take this cat away, please--far
I hate it so much and one could see
That my entire apartment is coated with pee
It’s not my pee, that’s a good question,
For it’s the cat’s, just thought I should mention
Ebb of the wave, flow of the tide,
It’s to the vet for one last ride.
In 3 business days you’ll be nothing more,
Than garbage can filling such as an apple core.
Oh, the humanity, life isn’t fair
To take this poor cat, He’s not even aware,
The counter is moving, yet time is a slow-poke,
This cat’s become the longest dead-baby joke.
Who is Sebastian? Is Debbie alive?
Will a blogger adopt Oasis, will a savior arrive?
Is a potential employer out there for me?
Or should I go back to school for my Master’s Degree?
What’s my deal? There’s nothing wrong, you see!
I’m a genius of the highest order, as evidenced by my SAT!
I pray to Site Meter, what shall I do?
My actions revolve on what you tell me, tis true.
Will answers be given? Will my story be told?
Draw near your friends, bring them to the fold.
Sunrise, sunset--days pass, one thing becomes clear,
Stay tuned to this site, a payoff is near...
Share your favorite Rosh Hashanah Recipes
- It’s the year 5765, it’s time to celebrate! Whoo! Seems like only yesterday it was 5759. Here are some of my favorite traditional Rosh Hashanah recipes I like to bust out every year.
2 slices bread
1/2 cup peanut butter
1/3 cup jelly
1 graham cracker
1 bar milk chocolate
1 can Gefilte fish
Traditional Pre-Game Snack Mix
1 box of Corn Chex
1 box of Wheat chex
1/4 cup seasoning salt
2 pretzel rods broken into 1-inch segments
1 whole tubesteak
1 bottle Teriyaki sauce
Directions: Soak tubesteak in teriyaki sauce overnight. Broil in Ronco rotisserie oven 30 minutes or until tubesteak is tender.
Do you have any great traditional Rosh Hashanah recipes your family passes down? Share them with all of us in the comments page!! Quit bogarting all the good recipes, man!
The Birth of Oasis
I’ve received a light flow day’s worth of emails asking me to tell a nice story about Oasis as a kitten before he gets deleted from the annals of this site. Since this cat belongs to my presumably dead roommate Debbie and not me, I can't even imagine what it was like to raise the walking pee puddle because I don't care to use my brain for such tasks. I will, however, relay to you a heartening tale that Debbie once told me about the birth of the little one.
“Ripped from the sacrificial womb of a beseiged fecund Abyssinian mother via emergency DIY Caesarian, Oasis is the first of 8 precious kitten fetuses to emerge from the once safe harbour of nourishing placental walls--now hostile and dismissive. The bulbous belly expectorates and convulses. God smotes in mysterious ways and on the evening of this beleaguered labor, of the remaining kittens removed from their primordial birth goo, only one would survive the transfer from fetal mass to earthbound organism. The final seven delivered--all stillborn. The mother looked at her blind shivering baby kitten, licked him with what last bits of energy she had, then perished.
Trying to make sense of all this misfortune, I made a sworn vow to raise this lonely, helpless kitten to the best of my ability. Had I been lactating myself, I would gladly offer the milks of my own teet. I would do anything to keep him alive and well and wanted to uphold the spirit of the brave mother cat. When, the time came to come up with a name, I named him Oasis--because he is a reminder that life can exist against all odds in even the most inhospitable and barren of lands.”
And I've renamed him "Future High School Biology Lab Cat." Enough with the waterworks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very important job interview to prepare for. I can't keep going to interviews in urine drenched Pierre Cardin suits. Can you?? 5 more business days!
Lynndie England Vs. winneroftheSAT
I think maybe the reason I'm so enraptured with Lynndie England is because she reminds me so much of myself. We have practically the same 11th grade yearbook photo. Go fig!
Check here for the showdown between Ashley Simpson and Talkatoo Cockatoo.
Lynndie England: A Retrospective
With the judge's opinion from the pretrial hearing sealed, Lynndie R. England is on course to face her toughest challenge yet--38 years in prison.
Born to some hilljacks in West Virginia, Pfc. Lynndie England tortured her way through humble upbringings to become a media darling.
According to the Baltimore Sun, Lynndie grew up in a trailer parked down a dirt road behind a saloon and a sheep breeding farm. I wonder what kind of rent they pay in that trailer. I could probably get a dozen trailers for the rent I pay in Brooklyn. Sheesh!
Lynndie said she joined the army because she had childhood dreams to become a meteorologist and paralogically the Army equates to Meteorology University. Lynndie knew she had all the right tools to be a successful meteoroglogist. She could point at things. And uh...that's it. Her mother, Terri England, wanted her daughter to enlist so she could see the world. Lynndie didn't join the army to stack hooded naked Iraqis into a human fuck pyramid. It was all part of the meteorology coursework and sightseeing tour.
Now 8 months knocked up with the baby of another soldier charged with torturing, Lynndie is just one month away from delivering a child with the right gene composition to take been there-done that prison abuse to whole new heights.
Is every resident who can form opinions on the planet earth being too hard on poor Lynndie? What did she do really besides point at some guy's genitals? I think many of us would be convicted and locked away under the rules of the Geneva Convention if publicly mocking another's privates on the world stage is a war crime. I mean, is there any proof that she strapped electrodes to the fingers of iraqis and stood them on boxes for 16 hours threatening to electrocute them if they fell--besides all those hundreds of pictures? Who's to say she's the reason that the US can't make a clean get away from Iraq?...aside from the countless hours of sworn testimony from all her superiors stating that it is fact. It takes two to torture. Remember that. I guess that doesn't mean anything but the point is that Lynndie is most likely going to military prison for a long long time and we should all be thankful that we're not.
For more information on Lynndie or other Lynndie related issues please see Doin' the Lynndie.
The most mysterious phone call - Part 2
Just a reminder: Oasis is still due to be--how do I put this lightly...destroyed. He’s seven short business days away from a big needle filled with the metaphorical indifference of a community that won’t take a poor cat (who pees everywhere indiscriminately) into its cold, unfeeling arms. Please consider adopting him if you can.
Moving on. So last Friday, this guy Sebastian calls me up. I wasn’t planning on picking up the phone but I foolishly did and the next thing I hear is this guy who sounds 1 part Hatebreed, 2 parts The Locust, and 3 parts Jim J. Bullock squealing in my ear.
So I let him say what he had to say. Sebastian mentioned going back to the hospital to finish the job on Debbie. To which I replied, “Wait, she’s still alive??” He then discussed how “The Council” supposedly set him up and now he wants revenge on his former colleagues. He was also saying something disconcerting about how I should sleep with one eye open. Have you ever listened to a hardcore song for more than 20 seconds? Give me a break.
Well, this guy’s voice was annoying and I was hungry and the rest of his droll monologue was drowned out with my electric tin opener. I was trying to open a can of Spaghetti-Alphabets & Tomato Gravy. The cutter kept getting stuck and the whirring noise continued for the duration of Sebastian’s grandstanding.
He wasn’t getting the hint, so finally I said, “Look pal, I have to go.”
He did too, thank God. He howled, “Fine. I do too. I have some more revenge to dish out. You have no idea how important you are to The Council, Nate S. You should really read Debbie’s blog to get a marginally better understanding. You’re the perfect bait to lure in other Council Members for me to beat up.” It just went on and on.
“Hey, do you have a blog?” I interrupted.
“Yeah, it’s http://www.sebas....Wait a second! I’m not tellling you! If you saw it you’ll learn about my motives and all my darkest secrets. I have Site Meter, If I see you’ve been snooping around on my blog, I swear...” And he went on and on again until I hung up.
I looked around the studio apartment, “Oh, what am I going to do,” I sighed and sat on the lower bunkbed. The apartment was so debressing. Debbie’s trinkets were set up just the way she left them--broken and flung wildly everywhere because she and Sebastian were throwing down. Oasis jumped into my lap. He knows I’m sad. I patted his head while my pants flooded with a torrent of cat pee.
The most mysterious phone call - Part 1
- I was sprawling on my bed, staring despondently at my inbox with no new messages, anticipating breathlessly for someone to draft and send an email declaring they want to save Oasis. I refreshed every 5 minutes on the minute. Nothing.
Don’t think he still has 9 more days just because a picture of him is missing. 8 MORE DAYS!
Suddenly, my Nokia N-Gage cellular telephone rang. I looked at the caller ID. It was a number I have never seen before. I’m not picking this up. It’s tiresome enough answering the phone when people I moderately like call me. Just gonna wait for voicemail.
"Well, I didn’t want to talk to him or her either," I thought, while spitting violently at the floor.
Again? The same number. Odd. I will not answer this phone.
Wait. What if it’s important? What if it’s a potential employer calling to offer me a job? The human resources director of Duane Reade? Nah.
What if it’s my mother or father stranded on the road calling from a payphone using their last quarter to contact me, avoiding the voicemail so that they can continue to desperately call? Bah. I’m not in the mood to talk to them--especially if it means listening to another verbal tirade of "Why don't you ever call us?" from Mother(aka father-to-mother).
What if it’s someone from the hospital? What if it’s…
The ringing stopped. Praise the lord. It was about to drive me crazy. I guess I could put the cellular telephone on silent…
Nooooo!!!! Ahhh!!! That same number! Stop.
“Hello? Who is this?? Stop calling me!”
An evil voice replied, “Hello Nate, It’s…”
I hung up. That'll teach this devilish sounding man to cool it with the unsolicited phone calls.
"You listen up, and listen good," the black metal voice commanded. He's possibly the lead singer of Cradle of Filth.
"Look, this is costing me daytime minutes. Anyways, I don't take orders from the most sinister voice I've ever heard. Goodbye!" I waited for his reaction.
"This is Sebastian Tolliver. The man who left Debbie in a lifeless heap."
"EEK!" I shrieked.
From the Webmaster: Part two Monday. ALSO: After some serious research I've managed to locate Debbie's personal blog!! I was shocked at what I read! The pieces are coming together.
Poor Oasis, you've yet to live before you die.
This cat all acts like it doesn't have only 9 days left to live. Oasis just keeps loafing around totally not fulfilling his dreams.
If I were him I would be out having raw, passionate, uninhibited catsex with Tabbys, half breeds, perhaps even bag a sultry Siamese.
I would live off the land, hunting increasingly larger animals in Prospect Park for food and sport--chipmunks, pigeons, small children. My feral insticts would consume me.
My claws would come out and I'd go, "SNIKT!" Then I'd retract them.
I would go down to the nearby alley and argue the existence of God with the local tomcats. Maybe discuss Boethius or the films of Darryl Hannah.
I would piss on the food my master gives me and meow until he creates the right combination of Tequila Lime Chicken 9 Lives, BBQ Tender Vittles, and a quarter cup 1% milk, slightly heated.
Unfortunately for Oasis, he probably doesn't know about this countdown to euthanasia. I told him, but he just doesn't listen. I don't want to take care of him anymore. He's not even my cat. Won't someone please adopt him?
9 MORE DAYS!
The Countdown Begins!
It is with much regret that I must do this.
Since Debbie will no longer be able to take care of her cat Oasis, I have decided to take him on one final trip to the veterinarian on her behalf. He's long overdue for a few shots, specifically an intracardiac injection of sodium pentobarbitone!!!
In other words, the cat has gotta go!
If any other bloggers or webmasters out there would like to adopt him, by all means, please contact me. Otherwise, in a mere 10 business days, Oasis is gonna ride in that pet taxi to the sky.
Reasons why I hate him:
-He pees on everything
-He ruined my last computer
Reasons why you'll love him:
-He's great with children
-Actually, he hates children.
-I don't know.
From the Webmaster: Blogspot broke last night and it's not the winneroftheSAT's fault that his post didn't show up hours ago. Blogspot sites across the country have remained contentless for the whole day thus far. Take the bullets out. Come down from the ledge. Reach for the syrup of ipecac. Open the garage door. Close the oven. The world has meaning again.
Hey everybody! How was your Labor Day Weekend? Mine was awesome. I had a great time during the West Indian Day Parade here in Brooklyn that took place a few blocks from my house. By good time, I mean, I barred all my windows with lumber and sat in my apartment waiting by the door with a shotgun and a bottle of Johnny Walker. Before you start calling me a racist, I did that during “Broadway in Brooklyn Week” too.
I discovered That Ashley Girl over the weekend. She gets so much pole crammed into every orifice of her body—Michael Musto, eat your heart out. I don’t know how she can still type with her obviously prematurely arthritic hands permanently shaped into a cock holding clench.
Listen up, y’all. I might be in the market for a new roommate! Tell all your friends. No fats/fems. If you need a description of my ideal roommate, check my old post. That’s how I got saddled with that clown Debbie, so I’d rather take a referral than a total stranger. Oh, speaking of Debbie, up top is a picture of what her heart monitor looked like right before I was escorted from the hospital room she was being treated in.
According to her, she was brutally beaten by some guy named Sebastian. I didn’t really get what she was saying because she wasn’t enunciating properly. The doctors told me to “Get the fuck out of here!” So I told them I’d wait at home for some news on her condition. I do hope she gets better. It’d be a shame having to throw away all these unused maxi pads.
Thanks to a little guidance from my webmaster, I was able to find an ominous omen back in my Reader’s Poll about this Sebastian fellow. Supposedly, according to Debbie, Sebastian has a blog somewhere on the internet. That’s some help. I’ll spend the rest of this week trying to find his blog. If I see anything suspicious, I’ll let you all know.
What else did I do? Oh, I bought a 3 pack of new underwear this weekend. From a little famous maker place called Old Navy. Ever heard of it? Of course you have. They’re briefs that say OLD NAVY around the band. These aren't Canal Street knockoffs. You probably wish you could afford Old Navy underwear, but you’re too busy living paycheck to paycheck and blowing all your money at Conway. So sad! Too bad!
Also, If anyone knows anyone who wants a mangy kitten, let's talk. Now that Debbie may or may not be dead, I’m going to do a little Autumn cleaning--starting with Debbie's cat Oasis. I hate it so much! All it does is piss and shit and moan and cry. If no fellow blogger will adopt it, I'm going to start a "Put Oasis to Sleep Countdown." I just don't have the energy to deal with it anymore.
I rushed as gingerly as I could to the hospital.
- I didn’t have time to ask the cop what happened to my roommate Debbie because the encore presentation of Father of the Pride was going to begin in just a few moments. I tried to thrash through the police tape blocking my apartment to get to the television but the police firmly suggested I not contaminate the crime scene. They also firmly recommended I go find Debbie at the nearby Park Slope Methodist Hospital ER where she had just been admitted. They were right. Why was I being so self absorbed? Father of the Pride stinks. Besides, it’s the first of the month and Debbie owes me some serious rent money.
I rushed as gingerly as I could, stopping once to pick up a bouquet of daisies and a get well soon card from a bodega along the way.
Finally, the hospital entrance comes into view. Barging politely into the waiting room, I pleaded with those nearby, demanding they tell me where Debbie is. Most continued coughing or crying—completely ignoring me. A triage nurse came to my assistance.
“I’m afraid Debbie is in critical condition,” she revealed.
“Is that serious?”
“No. It’s critical.”
This just can’t be. What happened to her? Will she be conscious enough to tell me where she keeps her checkbook?
“I have to see her.”
To heighten the seriousness of the moment without conforming to literary BS like flowery descriptions or complete sentences, I composed a haiku:
White coats, scrubs--rush, rush
The scent of death looms
The nurse takes me to the room. I’m so nervous for me.
BEEP BEEP ^v-^v—There she was. Lying on a bed--so fragile, barely moving. An IV pole was blocking my view of Debbie’s face. I move around to finally see what she looks like sans burqa. Dear lord! Her whole head is bandaged in gauze except for the mouth and eyes. Is she that stupid neighbor on Home Improvement or what? This is so weird. BEEP BEEP v^--v--
“Debbie!!! You’re alive! You look awful. Can you hear me?” I snapped my fingers twice.
“N….ate? Is… that… you?”
“You bet it’s me. I brought you flowers." I waived them in front of her eye holes. What happened to you?”
“…was attacked…” BEEP BEEP ^v^---
“By whom? What did they want?”
“He was looking for you.”
“For me? Who?? Was it that guy from Capital One?”
“No….it…was…..” BEEP BEEP
“Come on, spit it out, damn it.”
“Sebastian! He has a blog...somewhere...tells everything...you must *hack* find him...*cough*” BEEP BEEP ^v--^v—BEEEEEEEEEEEEP -----------
“Aaah! HELP! NURSE! Don’t die on me Debbie!” I got up on her bed, straddled her lifeless body and began pounding on her chest.
From the Webmaster: See ya Tuesday! Have a great weekend.
What's this yellow ribbon all over my door?
- I am aghast! Hooligans have toilet papered the front door of my apartment building! I come home from a session with my job coach to find the most curious yellow ribbon crisscrossing the frame. I tried to push through this TP like a world class sprinter going through a finish line but much like a child playing Red Rover, I was clotheslined and fell backwards back on to my stoop. What kind of toilet paper is this? It has writing on it! Big bold scary letters…what do they say? I don’t have my reading spectacles on. I’ll squint.
“PO-L-I…..Is that a C…uh, E? L…INE…”
Just then, some hulking barbarian in a police officer’s outfit elbowed me out of the way and my limp body crashed against a nearby railing. “You can’t stand here,” he barked.
“I live here,” I retorted incredulously. How dare this man disrespect me in my house!
The policeman interrogated, “You don’t live in Apartment D, do you?” He was trying to break me. I won’t comply. But his piercing eyes—-his rank breath! Argh! I couldn’t take it anymore.
“YES! I do live in Apartment D, indeed! I told you everything I know. Stop!!”
"Do you know a woman named Debbie?"
"No. It's a pretty name. Never heard of her though," I lied. "Why?"
"She's been taken to the hospital."
Positively Opposite Review: "Father of the Pride" series premiere
- Due to the format of the Positively Opposite Review, most circumstances and plots are real, but actual opinions expressed herein are completely altered and devoid of any and all truth in order to preserve an upbeat reading environment.
NBC cranks it with its hot new runaway fall hit based on the menagerie of animals living with magician Sigfried and his magician partner Roy! It’s Father of the Pride!! Ahh!!!! Father of the Pride is totally like this season’s Whoopi—AKA best new show EVER! Network executives, listen up! Don’t even try to scramble for a midseason replacement because you have nothing to fear with this crowd pleaser. This is one bonafide jewel of a show. It’s like the Hope Diamond!
Just thinking about the relationship between the quality of the collection of amazing talent and the quality of the final product just makes my eyes water with glee! John Goodman, Cheryl Hines, Andy Richter, Dreamworks—who isn’t sailing on this vessel destined for primetime glory? Let’s all hold on hopes for syndication!!
Here’s a quick recap of the series premiere last night, in case you were out shooting yourself in the head for missing it the first time:
-The main character, Lion, finally has some alone time after dropping off Child Lion at school and starts talking about how he wants to fuck Lioness, his wife!
-Lion comes home to drill her, and Female Giant Panda is staying over at the den sobbing about being a fat 36 year old virgin! “No one will ever fuck me,” she cries.
-On their TV, they see that Sigfried and Roy are buying Male Giant Panda for their backyard. “Hopefully, Male Giant Panda will fuck me,” says Female Giant Panda.
-Lion gets a blowjob from a house cat!
-Cut to what should be a commercial. Oh! What a surprise! Today’s show is presented commercial free by no one! Too many advertisers were lining up to put ads on it and NBC didn’t want to single out just one!
-We’re back! Here’s the twist! Ready?? Male Giant Panda doesn’t want to fuck Female Giant Panda. After being taken under Lion’s wing, he decides Lion’s wife is the one he wants! He wants to fuck Lioness!! That’s like crossbreeding! How bold!
-After a series of coherent twists and turns, Lion’s Father-in-Law slaps some sense into Male Giant Panda.
-Male Giant Panda and Female Giant Panda go out for some drinks! Hopefully they fuck!!!!!!!
-The end! Tune in next week!!
What’s a matter CBS & FOX? Where are your new primetime animated series that cost $2 million per episode and 2 years to make? If you wanna roll with the big boys, you gotta plunk down some rocks!
Here’s to the start of a ratings victory for NBC!!! Hooray! FATHER OF THE PRIDE RULES!!!!
For more Positively Opposite Reviews, check out this one for the Little Black Book movie premiere!