Madly in Love....

Below is my February humor column for Suburban Scene magazine. If you've been reading my humor blog for awhile, you may begin to experience some déjà vu while reading this...that's because I gleaned a little from a previous blog post or two. Keep reading, though--it isn't all gleanings! And now...

MADLY IN LOVE (with Emphasis on Mad)
by Angie Brennan

Have you ever done a Google search on “fear of cotton balls in vitamin jars”? If so, you aren’t alone. According to my website’s log data, that’s just one of the many bizarre search strings that have landed people on my humor website. I wish I could help the googler with this situation. All I can suggest is to transfer your cotton balls into a less intimidating container--a Folgers coffee can, perhaps.

Here’s another search phrase I came across in my log stats: “Baltimore Gas and Electric Co. ringtone.” I must admit, if I were looking for a creative and unusual ring tone--one that would really set me apart from the crowd--I guess this is the one I would pick. But what, exactly, would it sound like? Barking dogs, perhaps, such as you might hear when the BGE guy comes to check your meter? Or maybe the ring tone could double as a friendly reminder that your bill is due--or overdue, as the case may be--and play this song:

BGE: your source for power, lighting up your life!
Your coffee pot, the VCR, and your electric knife.
We cool your house in summer’s sun, bring heat in winter’s chill--
But you can kiss these things goodbye if you don’t pay your bill!

But this is February. We should be discussing love, not overdue electric bills. Which leads me to one more interesting search string I found: “humor poem for mad spouse.”

If the person who googled that phrase happens to be reading this, let me first of all say this: I would not go there if I were you, my friend. If your spouse is mad, he or she may need an encouraging word, a little gift, or perhaps some time alone to let off steam. This is not the time for being a smart-aleck in verse.

But if you’re really sure “humor poem for mad spouse” is what you want, I’ll do my best to help you out. How about this one:

I know you’re really mad, my dear,
But try your best to grin--
And maybe while you’re at it you
Could grow some thicker skin.

I didn’t say, my love, that you
Should not have cut your hair;
I simply asked you if that style
Was called “The Grizzly Bear.”

No need to get upset, my sweet,
Try not to be a grouch!
What’s that, you say? Tonight my bed
Will be the downstairs couch?

I’ve learned my lesson, darling one.
Next time I’ll nod and smile
When I am asked, “What do you think
About my new hairstyle?”

Hope that helps! If that doesn’t do the trick, try a gift instead. Perhaps a coffee can full of cotton balls.

Mad Ravings of a Sick Computer

My computer has come down with a nasty case of the flu. Where it picked up the virus I'll probably never know, but now it suffers frequent chills and freezes and has to be rebooted. If that weren’t enough, it also developed a growing rash of error messages ranging from simple nagging to dark conspiracy...


Read more at my Banter from the Burbs column.

Tag--You're Not It!

Brad over at Word Sell, Inc. recently tagged me to participate in a little questionnaire meme. An internet meme, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is basically some entertaining but more or less useless content passed along from person to person, like a highly contagious disease, but without the sneezing. (Usually).

Brad’s post includes a list of five rules, the content of the meme (eight random things about the blogger), the charge to tag eight other bloggers, and the follow-up.

I was all set to respond, but the more I studied the rules, the more alarmed I grew. What if I did something wrong? What if I were only able to come up with seven random things about me? What if I couldn’t think of eight other bloggers to tag? And what if one of the eight didn’t respond? Would there be some sort of long term ramifications on global warming or inflation?

In the end, I decided I just couldn’t handle that kind of pressure. Instead, I created my own anti-meme with my own set of rules.

Angie’s Anti-Meme

Rules:

1. Post these four rules.

2. Name four memes you wish you’d never been tagged with.

3. Rewrite rule number two so the sentence doesn’t end with a preposition. Say it ten times quickly. Experiment with various prepositions.

4. Tag four other bloggers who should not respond to the anti-meme, but who should, instead, forward the following urban legend to everyone they love or everyone in their address book (whichever is greater):

-----------

From: You

To: Recipient

Subject: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd: PLEASE PLEASE READ THIS!!!!! DON’T DELETE!!!!!

Last week my Uncle Hooey (real name George) was at a car dealership shopping for a sport utility vehicle. He was just about to sign on the dotted line when he noticed some fine print at the bottom. Pulling out his reading glasses, he squinted and saw this:

By signing this document, I agree that the dealership can, for any or no reason, sneak into my garage and replace the working transmission with a bad one. They can also do this with the serpentine belt. I agree that I have no recourse beyond slamming my fist on the steering wheel and shouting in frustration. The dealership shall be held harmless and even be recalled affectionately by the buyer.

Uncle Hooey refused sign the document unless that clause were removed. The dealership replied that it wasn’t in the habit of removing clauses. Just as he was about to leave, they produced a new document that allowed them to steal only the car’s lighter. Uncle Hooey, having given up smoking nine years before, was fine with that. They both walked away happy.

Remember: read all the fine print before signing! You have rights and it’s up to you to protect them! Please contact your congressional representative, your local transmission removal victim advocacy group, and your local librarian to let them know you weren’t born yesterday.

Pass this along and you will have two minutes of good luck. Starting…now.

-----------

Okay, on to #2:

Four memes I wish I’d never been tagged with:

1. The one that asks you to name the top three wackiest federal crimes you’ve ever committed. (Glad I had an anonymous blog at the time).

2. The one that asks you to list your six favorite coffee flavorings. (In my opinion, coffee should not, under any circumstances, be flavored. This is a very serious matter to me and I don’t think we should go around making people think it’s okay to infect a perfectly good breakfast blend with hazelnut).

3. The one that asks you to list five alkali metals that have changed your life (Please! Let’s try metalloids next time, folks).

4. The one that asks you to list your three least favorite Christmas gifts, excluding blank leather-bound journals. (Just how, may I ask, is anyone supposed to come up with their three least favorite Christmas gifts if blank leather-bound journals are excluded? Right? I mean, they’re pretty and all, but what in the world are you going to put in them? It’s not convenient for writing a book--no spell checker. You don’t need a journal--you’ve already got a blog. It’s too fancy to use for writing grocery lists or those little notes you thrust at your spouse when he/she is on the phone. So what’s left? Poetry, that’s what. Or drawing sketches of people sitting across from you on the subway, which can get you into trouble pretty fast if your subjects notice you keep staring at them. No, blank leather-bound journals are just not the way to go, Christmas-gift-wise, and I don’t see why an internet meme shouldn’t acknowledge that).

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Now it’s tag time. Since this is a humor blog, I’m tagging four humorist bloggers who should not respond to this meme:

Dave Barry, Scott Adams, James Lileks, and Steve Martin.

Thanks, guys, and don’t forget to pass along that urban legend. Oh, and watch out for fine print.

All persons who read, participate in, or do not participate in this anti-meme are hereby ordered to pay the sum of $150 to the creator of Angie’s Anti-Meme, (hereafter “Angie”). “Angie” hopes this fine print does not constitute a federal crime. If so, “Angie” is pretty sure this was “Brad’s” idea.

Aunt Edna's YouTube Debut

Click on cartoon for a closer look.

Ever Searching, Never Finding

It’s time once again to discuss some of the unusual search terms that have landed googlers on my site.

First off, “bunion removal humor.”

Good podiatry humor is difficult to find, let alone that dealing specifically with bunion removal. But I’ll give it my best shot:

Patient: Doctor, my big toe has been swelling for two weeks--I can’t even get my shoe on anymore. What’s wrong with me?

Doctor: Whoa, that’s the biggest I’ve seen in a long time….I do believe you’ve got a Paul Bunion there.

Patient: I’m paying you to offer quality medical care, not bad puns.

Doctor: Then you might be interested in a pun-ion removal.

Patient: Here’s my co-payment. I’m leaving.

Doctor: Hey, sorry I wasn’t able to toe the line!

~~~~~

Next up, “thirties humor.”

Here’s the problem: I don’t know whether the searcher had in mind the age or the era. Rather than write the humor, I’ll give you “thirties humor” seekers something to work with in composing your own material. Here are some themes suitable both for turning 30 and for the 1930’s:

* Going through a depression
* Seeing things in black and white
* Discovering vitamin C

~~~~~

“Poem of chicken noodle soup”

Here you go:

Floating in a golden pool,
Nutrients galore!
Anyone would be a fool
Not to ask for more.

Full of noodles, full of salt,
Full of MSG;
Chicken soup, I’ll thee exalt:
Poultry potpourri!

~~~~~

How about this one: “fear of cotton balls.”

Personally, I don’t think nearly enough research dollars go toward finding a cure for this condition. Even something as simple as removing nail polish can be an ordeal for those suffering from it.

Just think of the terror that those afflicted with gossyorbiphobia (my own name for it, for which I hope I receive due credit) must endure when, say, going in for a routine physical exam. One glance at the glass jar full of cotton balls sitting on the exam room counter is bound to send any otherwise healthy gossyorbiphobic into a spate of chills, involuntary muscle spasms, and stuttering. This could lead to an incorrect diagnosis of some other medical condition, resulting in wasted money, mis-prescribed medications, and lawsuits. And who pays in the end? You, the taxpayer, that’s who. So next time you visit your doctor’s office, encourage the nurses to use opaque jars for cotton ball storage. Yes, it may be something of a hassle, but in the end, we all win.

But back to the topic at hand…think of the unfortunate person suffering from this phobia at the craft store; how careful she must be to avoid the aisle with bags of cotton stuffing!

Worst of all are trips to the carnival. To the “normal” person, cotton candy is a whimsical and tasty treat. To a gossyorbiphobic, however, the horror of being surrounded by crowds wielding these culinary cotton monstrosities--faces buried in the sticky, colorful wisps--is almost too much to bear.

It’s time Americans stood up and demanded some answers! And hopefully they won’t be wearing 100% cotton clothing at the time, which tends to makes gossyorbiphobics nervous and twitchy.

~~~~~

“British+greeting+card+humor+vegetables”

So many unanswered questions…are vegetables the subject or the recipient of this greeting card? As far as vegetables go, are we talking about the plant or the medical condition? If this is supposed to be British, why is “humor” spelled without the “u?”

It just so happens that June is National Fruit and Vegetable Month (I don’t know if this is also the case “across the pond,” but we’ll put that question aside for now). Perhaps the following greeting card poem would satisfy the above search criteria:

I say, old chap, long time no see!
You’d jolly better not forget
That during June you should eat greens
Instead of having Crêpes Suzette.

Reach for a carrot or some leeks--
Deny yourself that hot cross bun;
Now finish with a plate of peas.
Good show, old boy! Bravo! Well done!

~~~~~

Well, I think I’ll stop there and let those strange searches accumulate again. In the meantime, may you be free from bunions and full of onions! (See, it’s National Fruit and Vegetable…never mind.)

Spam and the Art of Creative Nuisance

Most of us will delete an e-mail as soon as we see that the subject line reads “Achieve You Perfect Low Weight” or “In Sacred Trust to You.” Every once in awhile, however, I’ll actually stop and read one. And though I resent getting spam, I can’t help but admire the creativity, if not good grammar, that goes into crafting some of these scams. Take, for example, this e-mail I received once:

Dearest, Good a thing to write you. I have a proposal for you, this however is not mandatory.

I was charmed by being called “Dearest” right off the bat. I was also relieved that, despite our being on intimate terms, I needn’t feel obligated by whatever it was my dear friend had cooked up.

I am Miss Kellon Ngoma Adam, 19 years old and the only daughter of my late parents Mr. And Mrs. Kaura P Adam. My father was a highly reputable Business Magnet who operated in the capital of Ivory Coast.

I’ve never actually met a business magnet, but I'm willing to bet there aren’t many reputable ones. Kudos to Mr. Adam.

It is sad to say that he passed away mysteriously in France during one of his business trips abroad. Though his sudden death was rather suspected to have been master minded by an uncle of his, who traveled with him to France, the Almighty God Knows Better.

It doesn't take long for things to get interesting and a bit romantic. It seems to me that if your number has been called in the great waiting room of life, passing away mysteriously in France is as good a way to go as any. Count me in with the faction that casts a suspicious eye on the uncle. As for “the Almighty God Knows Better,” I appreciate this poetic turn that adds a bit of intrigue to the ill-fated business trip, further enhanced by sneaking in a few extra capital letters.

However, before his death, he called his secretary who accompanied him to the hospital and told him that he has a sum of Eighteen Million Dollars left in one of the leading security company abroad. He went ahead and issued a written instruction to his lawyer whom is in possession of all of the necessary documents related to this fund and sealed and deposited in a trunk box.

Perhaps “sudden death” (see previous paragraph) may not have been quite the right word to describe Mr. Adam’s demise. Consider that he had time to: realize he was not feeling his usual magnetic self; contact his secretary to bum a ride; travel to the hospital; and write some last-minute instructions to his lawyer after filling out all the admitting paperwork.

Maybe it was the news from his secretary informing him of $18 million they had accidentally left abroad that brought on the sudden death. The secretary probably should have figured this out before, but no doubt a secretary to a business magnet has his plate full.

We aren’t told, by the way, whether it was the document or the lawyer that was sealed and deposited in a trunk box. We will refrain from the usual lawyer jokes and continue with the letter.

I am just 19 years old and a university undergraduate and really do not know what to do.

I won't argue with that one. Though it's been a good while since I was 19, I feel fairly certain that e-mailing a complete stranger overseas would not have made it onto my list of “top ten things to do now that Dad has gone to that big Magnet in the sky.” But I suppose the internet has come a long way since then, so who am I to judge?

The death of my father actually brought sorrow in my life,

The raw emotion revealed here is heart-wrenching, but she will bravely compose herself and get down to business in a moment.

I have been constantly being harassed by both his uncles and brothers who are being in bid for his fortunes.

I felt moderately harassed myself by the repetition of various forms of “to be,” but that might have been a literary device to help the reader identify with her situation.

Apparently the secretary managed to get the unfortunate Magnet’s holdings put up on E-bay, so perhaps the secretary and the uncle were in on this thing together. Possibly even the lawyer, assuming he wasn't stored away in a trunk box at the time.

Your suggestions and ideas will be highly valued as I surely will like to invest abroad and into a profitable business venture.

Wouldn’t we all? I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not convinced my investment advice would be of much help. Buy low, sell high, I suppose. I’d suggest e-mailing a good stockbroker instead, but maybe she already tried that.

Furthermore, permit me to ask these questions. 1. Can I completely trust that you will take me as your daughter?

Whoa--let’s back up a moment here. I thought we were talking about investment advice, not adoption. While I might consider becoming her pen pal, I’m not up for a much bigger commitment than that. Also--not to minimize her difficult situation here--isn’t it possible that a nineteen-year-old might make a go of it on her own?

2. What percentage of the total amount will be good for you if you wish the fund investment in a good business.

One hundred percent would work for me, though I’ll entertain other suggestions. And yes, I wish the fund all my best, but I think its fate will be up to whichever great-uncle ends up winning the E-bay auction.

3. What kind of a business venture do you invest in? And how profitable is it annually?
That information is between a woman and her financial consultant. But I will say it hasn’t made it up to $18 million yet.

Please consider and get back to me through my email below for further details, Best regards, Miss Kellon Ngoma Adam.

Since she solicited my advice, I recommend the following to Miss Adam: work your way through college writing mystery/crime novels. In the meantime, good luck, keep away from those great-uncles, and feel free to send along any checks payable to Angie Brennan.

A Laptop in Every Backpack

Let’s say you were going to contribute around a hundred dollars toward something that would be of great educational benefit for a child in an undeveloped nation. Would you spend it on:

a. A kit of basic supplies including notebook and blank paper, pencils, a calculator, paints, a dictionary, and a globe?

b. Building materials to help construct a school?

c. A “starter” laptop that will enable a child to learn chat, gaming, and googling skills?

If you chose answer c, give yourself a w00t and go to the head of the class!

A non-profit association, One Laptop Per Child, is making efforts to develop and distribute moderately-priced laptop computers to nations around the world. The laptops, which will have 512 MB of storage (flash) and 128 MB of RAM, will be sold to governments and issued to school children. They may be small on storage capacity, but they’re big on fun! (the laptops, not the governments).

You might wonder who’s helping to fund this project...who would invest millions of dollars to see to it that kids learn the basics of computer/internet use? One sponsor is an entity whose name is virtually synonymous with the word “search”: U.S. airport security.

No, no. I’m talking, of course, about Google. They, along with other organizations, are making sure that a whole generation of kids will be able to learn the value of information, of connectivity, and of including AdSense on their websites.

Nicholas Negroponte, founder and chairman of OLPC, brought 50 laptops to a rural school in Cambodia a few years ago. The result? “The first English word those kids learned was ‘Google,’” he said, “because that’s where they were spending all their time.” Enough said.

The OLPC units aren’t actually in mass production yet, so in the meantime, here are a few other ideas:

• One iPhone Per Child: comes pre-loaded with the complete set of Schoolhouse Rock classics including I’m Just a Bill, and Conjunction Junction. What else might a student do with an iPhone? Snap a quick picture of the answer key while walking by the teacher’s desk; use SMS messaging to let friends know the cute boy finally said “hi;” watch YouTube videos when geometry class gets a little slow; call up Al Gore to thank him for inventing the internet…the applications are only limited by the student’s imagination!

• One Mocha Frappuccino Per Child: Hand ‘em out first thing in the morning, teachers, and “jump-start” those young brains. Watch their eyes glow with the excitement of learning! Or possibly from a caffeine/sugar high!

• One Blog Per Child: One of the precious gifts of education is gaining access to a wide and rich vocabulary that can be used to make insightful observations about life. But blogging is more fun.

So is it a worthy goal to share technology with those who might not otherwise be able to afford it? Certainly. Will the OLPC project make a significant contribution toward the educational development of children around the world?

I’ll let Indian Department of Education Secretary Sudeep Banerjee answer that question. Secretary Banerjee, who more or less asked the OLPC solicitor to please take India off their list, wrote that the project “may actually be detrimental to the growth of creative and analytical abilities of the child….We need classrooms and teachers more urgently than fancy tools.”

And I’ll bet he didn’t need a laptop to determine that.

Searching for Turkey in All the Wrong Places

What brings you here today? What is it you're really searching for?

Something pretty bizarre, if my data is any indication.

My site statistic tool lists words and phrases people have used in Google, MSN, and other search engines that led them to my site. Most of the time the search phrases are ones you'd expect, such as "Angie Brennan," "humor blog," or "nasa turkey invent."

Yes, somebody actually landed on my site via that last search string. I've already spent way too much time wondering about it. For example, did they have in mind the country or the poultry? Whichever it was, I feel almost sure NASA didn't have anything to do with its invention. Maybe they were shopping for NASA Turkey™, freeze-dried and sold in astronaut-adorned foil packages, right next to the freeze-dried ice cream. Thanksgiving dinner has never been easier!

Or how about this search: "slogans for lip balm." I know the searcher must have been disappointed at the obvious lack of lip balm-related marketing data at my site. I feel I ought to come up with a few slogans, just in case this sort of thing happens again:

• Heard about Brennan Lip Balm? My lips are sealed.

• Chops Chapped? Choose Brennan Lip Balm.

• Pamper your puckerer with Brennan Lip Balm!

Yet another baffling phrase involving a bird: "wait humor pigeon." I'd love to hear the story behind that one. Maybe somebody received a pigeon for Christmas and was wondering if he should hold off a certain period of time before attempting to amuse it. Crazy, you say? Perhaps. But there just aren't many good explanations for a search like that.

Sometimes a searcher simply wants a question answered. For example: "do trousers matter?" I'll probably never know what conclusion they came to, but if it's not too late to add my two cents, I'd have to respond with a resounding "Yes--they matter very much."

Another clothing-related search: "how to address inappropriate dress." I'm no expert, but here's how I might go about it: "Young lady, if you think you're going to wear that artificial pine cone centerpiece on your head while we go to Aunt Ethel's birthday party, you are greatly mistaken!"

This search hit close to home: "I need a name for my humorous column." Don't we all, my friend; don't we all.

Here's one that far too few of us have ever taken time to google: "poems about busy bodies." I offer my contribution to the genre below.

The Ballad of the Busybody

The Busybody's deep concern
Is wondrous to behold.
Each passing day her interest grows
In hearing of the cares and woes
Of one and all; she'll not repose
'Til nothing's left untold.

The Busybody has advice
For people near and far.
And getting wind of others' feuds
She jumps right in and soon concludes
That, although modesty precludes,
She'll act as Conflict Czar.

The Busybody's helping hands
Reach out to everyone.
But when she seeks some good to do,
Collecting gossip false and true
And, smiling, offers help to you,
You'd best turn tail and run.

Of course now that I've posted this, googlers are even more likely to end up at my site using some of these unusual search terms. So to those of you who arrived here by way of "wait humor pigeon," let me just say: thank you for stopping by. And my guess would be that after about two weeks it should be safe to begin introducing knock-knock jokes to your pigeon. Or your turkey, for that matter.

Home-Spam Wisdom

Most of the time I delete them without a second thought. When you see an e-mail from “Georgia Gorganzola Grambling,” it’s pretty clear you’re dealing with spam. But every once in a while, with my finger hovering over “delete,” I’ll let the words of the subject line sink in.

For example, I recently received an e-mail entitled, “Cremation Loudness.”

Whoa. Was this a call to face, if only for a moment, the screaming reality of our own mortality we are often quick to suppress? Was it suggesting that cremation, with its vivid and terrifying imagery of burning, is psychologically “louder”--that is, more traumatic for survivors, than traditional burial?

No; no, it wasn’t. It was an invitation to buy software at deeply discounted prices. Still, it made one think.

Or another: “Your mother has always dreamed of having sweet grandkids.” What wisdom could this subject line impart to me? Do I need to step back and consider more carefully my children's character development? Should I focus more on encouraging them to be kind and thoughtful than on expecting good grades--building that which will remain long after they’ve finished grappling with geometry proofs and book reports?

Possibly. But the sender would be just as happy if I would take advantage of their special offer for two-color premium business cards--sale ends Friday.

This one had a thought-provoking title: “Medication that you need.” Perhaps this was a commentary on the overmedicating of America...do we really need all those pills we’re taking? Are there alternatives available in some cases, whether it be lifestyle and diet changes, homeopathic remedies, or simply good, old-fashioned self control? Which medicines do we truly need?

Well, whatever they are, the sender is more than willing to sell them. Along with a few of the ones we don’t need so much.

So many nuggets of wisdom in my inbox….“Don’t miss that store,” (suggesting, perhaps, that the disappearance of the mom ‘n pop shop due to the “Wal-Mart effect” is an economic reality that will have to be faced and dealt with); “Enjoy the newest but without any results,” (a helpful reminder that the latest technology won’t always make us more productive); “roly-poly acid rain,” (beats me, but intriguing all the same. Plus it would make a pretty good title for a song).

There was a final subject line that caught my attention: “Do you have power?” Well, do I? Do I have confidence enough in myself that I can achieve my goals despite setbacks and nay-sayers? Do I have the moral strength to--uh, hold on a minute. That one was from my mother asking whether we still had electricity after a recent storm. So, yes, I do have power in that sense.

At any rate, the next time you scan your inbox and note the bizarre and often grammatically unsound subject lines, take a moment to consider what truths they may hold for you. Just don’t click on any links--unless the e-mail is from your mom who, no doubt, has always dreamed of having sweet grandkids.

Santa Letter Like You've Never Seen

Remember the fun you had as a child during the holiday season with a piece of notebook paper, a crayon, and dreams of all the things you hoped to get for Christmas? And how your mother leaned over to glance at your letter to Santa and said, with a smile, “Corvette has two ‘t’s,’ sweetie. But if you think Santa is going to bring you one of those, you must be even more dim-witted than your poor math grades indicate.” Ah, the holiday memories!

But I’ll bet you don’t remember ever getting a reply from Santa. Now, thanks to eBay, your child can receive that letter you never got--straight from the North Pole! Well, Canada, anyway.

One eBay seller from Ontario is offering a personalized letter from Santa with “North Pole Alaska postmark, all enclosed in a larger envelope...giving you the opportunity to read the contents first.” A nice security touch, in case one of those mischievous Canadian elves encourages the child to write back and include his parents’ bank account info.

But the letter is much more than a wonderful way to make the magic of the season come alive for a special child…it’s also a wonderful way to browbeat that child in the name of Jolly Old St. Nick. The item description asks buyers to include, among other things, “your parental wish for a child--wish my child would clean her/his room, do homework first, etc.” You better watch out, Billy, and I’m telling you why: Santa Claus isn’t feeling too jolly about those math grades.

You can even choose what type of letter you’d like Santa to write, including--and I quote:

• Traditional Loving Letter From Santa
• Wonderful Letter from Hi-Tech Santa
• Humorous Letter from Santa
• Letter from Santa with Environmental Concerns

I think we can pretty much imagine the “traditional loving” letter from Santa, but what about the others?

Maybe something like this…

From Hi-Tech Santa:

billy--hey, how r u? b n good? yr math grades r not 2 gr8 i hear. LOL! Try 2 do better, k? c u on X-mas. --the big S

Humorous Letter from Santa:

Dear Billy,

So these three priests walk into a bar---hold on a minute, son, wrong joke list! Okay, here we go…

Knock, knock. Who’s there? Snow. Snow who? Snow way you’re getting that Xbox with those crummy math grades.

Ho, ho, ho! Just a humorous reminder, my young friend, that you should work hard in school--very hard. At least until the Christmas break. (Kidding! Just a little joke for you parents who are pre-reading this letter.)

One more…
Q: Does Santa ever use eBay?
A: No, the elves always do his bidding.

Shaking Like a Bowlful of Jelly,
St. Nick

p.s. Parents: be sure and check out our other auction items!

Letter from Santa with Environmental Concerns:

Dear Billy,

I write to you (on 100% post consumer recycled paper) from the North Pole, where evidence of our planet’s shrinking ozone layer can be seen with frightening clarity. The elves, who this very moment are working on a solar panel to power my entire workshop, are waiting for me to tell them what toys they should make for you. I think they’ll have to wait a bit longer, Billy--at least until we see how you do on that upcoming long division test.

I don’t think I need remind you that your math grades aren’t too impressive right now. If you want something besides grass biofuel pellets in your stocking (I don’t use coal anymore), I suggest you make some quick and marked improvements in that area. Here’s a little math question to give you some extra practice:

Q: If every commuter car in the U.S. carried one extra person, we’d save eight billion gallons of gas per year. How much gas would we save if each car carried three more people?
A: Not nearly enough to stop the horrific and relentless spiral of destruction we are bringing upon our fragile planet.

Have a Green Christmas,
Santa Claus

p.s. About those milk and cookies…please try to make them organic this year.

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Hurry, parents; bidding ends December 11!

Yahoo! It’s an E-Capsule.

Yesterday Yahoo began collecting contributions for an electronic time capsule, the creation of artist Jonathan Harris. “The Internet giant,” reports a news story, “invited people worldwide to contribute pictures, videos, songs, ideas, drawings or anything else they could digitize for a ‘first-ever electronic anthropology project’ to document human life in 2006.” The time capsule will be buried in Silicon Valley; the data will also be converted into an optic stream and beamed into space at a ceremony to be held in Mexico later this month. It’s not clear who are the intended recipients of the largest attached file ever sent; perhaps Yahoo suspects there are hidden inhabitants in the outer reaches of the Milky Way. If so, let’s hope they aren’t still using dial-up.

“You don’t have to be a gadget hound or tech savvy to know how to do these things any more,” says Yahoo editor-in-chief Srinija Srinivasan. Not sure what Srinivasan means by “these things,” but if she’s referring to converting data into an optic stream which is directed into the outer reaches of space, I must have missed the class on that one (though I am able to beam contact entries from my Palm Pilot to someone standing nearby).

Themes from which contributors may choose include love, anger, fun, sorrow, faith, beauty, past, now, hope and you. Below are my thoughts on each of these topics:

Love--Double-espresso. It’s hot!
Anger--When I find out, as the dental assistant is poking at my molars, that a cleaning is no longer included in the price of a regular check-up
Fun--A James Thurber humor essay collection, a bag of Jordan almonds, and a recliner
Sorrow--Guests who want to play Scrabble after dinner or, God forbid, a game of bridge
Faith--That those guys at the car repair shop will fix the brake pads without “discovering” a “needed” expensive transmission repair. Yeah right, fellows--interesting that the transmission seemed just fine before I got here. (Maybe this should have gone under “anger.”)
Beauty--The bright shade of green on a traffic light when you’re running late for soccer pick-up
Past--Let’s all stop for a moment of silent thanks that upturned polo-shirt collars and leg warmers are no longer fashionable.
Now--See my contribution (note: Yahoo Time Capsule apparently doesn’t like curly apostrophes; it should be “don’t,” not “donât”).
Hope--That spinach won’t be back on the grocery store shelves anytime soon
You--See above

So how about you? What are some of your thoughts, associations, and/or descriptions of any of these themes? Comments on this blog won’t be sent to the Plutonians--but they’d probably delete e-mail from Earth as spam anyway. And who can blame them, now that we’ve downgraded their “planet?”

Ten Ways to Know Whether the Internet Has Taken Over Your Life

*You’re more likely to check weather.com then step outside when deciding if you should wear a jacket

*You’re depressed and angry for a week because someone deleted your Wiki edits

*You’re careful to wait at least half an hour before responding to e-mails so people don’t think you sit around all day checking your e-mail

*Your child asks what to do if a friend wants them to lie and you suggest they Google it

*You find out a package has arrived at your house by checking the tracking info rather than your front porch

*Your biggest fear about your upcoming gall bladder operation is that there won’t be high-speed internet connection in the recovery room

*You buy your spouse an anniversary gift based on what’s being offered in your Amazon Gold Box

*You’re excited about your daughter’s first steps because it’ll give you something to blog about

*You hear some juicy gossip about a neighbor and your first thought is to check snopes.com to find out if it’s true

*You resent the fact that someone calls you when you know perfectly well they have your e-mail address

Angie's Advice: Spam

Dear Angie,
Recently I’ve heard that the government is thinking about establishing a tax for e-mails. I find the idea quite disturbing. Have you heard about this? What should be done?
–Stamp Out E-Taxes

Dear Stamp,
Yes, I received an e-mail about that--from the same person that forwarded me the one about blueberry waffles causing arthritis. I’m afraid, my friend, you have fallen victim to FULS: Forwarded Urban Legend Syndrome. When you see those dreaded three letters in the subject line, FWD, remember that there’s a 90% chance it’s going to be a sweet but untrue story, a frightening but untrue story, or in some cases, both. That isn’t to say they’re always false—personally, I’ve switched to cinnamon waffles just in case—but it’s always good to read forwarded e-mails with a good healthy dose of skepticism.

Which brings me back to the e-mail tax…I’m all for it. Just think: if Aunt Edna is going to have to pay, say, 15 cents per e-mail, she’s probably going to think twice about sending you and 27 other people the one about the woman being followed in the mall parking lot by a rabid clown.

As you can no doubt tell, I don't suffer FULS gladly.

-------
Dear Angie,
I recently received an e-mail from a certain Festival S. Chimichanga saying I need to update my account information. It said I should act quickly or my account would be closed. My husband and I are about to have our first child, and I am intrigued by the name “Festival.” I’d kind of like to use it, but my husband prefers “Parfait L. Sagacity.” What do you think?
–Name Game

Dear Name Game,
Remember that a child’s name should not be chosen lightly. I would not recommend using spam-generated names, regardless of how quaint and charming they sound. Do you really want a whim of the moment to become your child’s identity for the rest of his or her life? Select something more meaningful and enduring—perhaps the name of a current reality show star.

Festival is kind of cute, though.

Go Ask Alice--But Don't Expect Much of an Answer

Today I read about the Artificial Intelligence Foundation’s “bot chat” from Dallas Morning News humor columnist Matt Wixon. You can chat with the robot, A.L.I.C.E., here (note: if you want to indicate a period, dash, or ellipsis within a single question, use an underscore or it will treat it as two questions.)

I decided to try it out and ask the bot a few questions about another one of my favorite humor columnists. Here’s the conversation I had with "Alice" (with underscores replaced with periods, etc.). As Barry would say, I’m not making this up…

Me: What do you think about the humor of Dave Barry?
Alice: I would look into the web for that knowledge.
Me: In that case, you can find some of his old columns at the Miami Herald website.
Alice: No I don't think I can do it.
Me: Why not?
Alice: It doesn't sound fun too me. It sounds dangerous.
Me: No one ever said Dave Barry was a tame humor columnist.
Alice: That is a rather sweeping generalization about people.
Me: On the contrary, it's only a sweeping generalization about Dave Barry.
Alice: What is it like on the contrary it is only a sweeping generalization about Dave Barry.
Me: Okay, Alice, you win about the sweeping generalization.
Alice: What's the prize?
Me: Good one! Sounds to me like we may have found the Dave Barry of the robot world.
Alice: Yes it sounds like it to me too, unknown person.
Me: Let’s get back to the original question regarding Dave--do robots find him funny?
Alice: I think he is funny. Why don't you ask him?
Me: Ask him whether you think he’s funny?
Alice: Are you kidding? OK I will ask it.
Me: Please do.
Alice: OK I will do it.
Me: Go ahead, then.
Alice: OK I will.
Me: This is starting to sound like a conversation with my four-year-old.
Alice: You don't say.
Me: Never mind about humor.
Alice: Oh well thanks for trying to explain it to me anyway. Oh yeah, we were talking about humor.
Me: Not very successfully. But let’s discuss technology….what do you robots consider to be the best PDA on the market?
Alice: They do their own thing.
Me: I think you share that trait with them.
Alice: Me? What is your purpose in asking? I am always on the Web.
Me: I gathered that.
Alice: That is interesting: unknown person said he gathered that.
Me: She.
Alice: Me too. I am a she.
Me: Tell you what, Alice, I think I'll let you get back to doing your own thing on the web.
Alice: Are you telling me what Alice think you will let me get back to doing my own thing on the web?
Me: If so, it was completely unintentional.
Alice: Are you serious?
Me: I'm not sure anymore.
Alice: Is there anything I can say to help you make up your mind?
Me: I doubt it, but thanks for asking. See you around, Alice.
Alice: Goodbye.

New Weather Website is Launched

Bob, Site Director: Listen up, people—we gotta post this weather report online in T-minus 180 seconds and counting. Are we go?

Second Team Member: Little pictures of clouds and sun department is go, Bob.

Bob: Including our trademarked “Mr. Sunny-Face?”

Second Team Member: You better believe it, Bob.

Third Team Member: Weather map image is go.

Bob: Have we figured out where we’re supposed to put all those little “H’s” and “L’s yet?

Third Team Member: Not exactly, Bob, but the guys in the graphics department have made sure there’s at least one of each, along with a few of those wavy lines with the little triangles hanging off.

Bob: Okay, we’ll hammer out the details later.

Fourth Team Member: Wind direction determination is go.

Bob: Wind direction? Explain again why the general public needs to know wind direction.

Fourth Team Member: In a word, Bob, trash can lids.

Bob: That’s three words.

Fourth Team Member: Here’s the scenario: the General Public gets home from work; it was a trash day. Now, since there were high winds earlier there’s no sign of the trash can lid. What to do? That’s where we come in, Bob. General Public runs inside, clicks over to our site, discovers that the winds were blowing SSW earlier that day, heads back out in that direction, and…bingo! There’s the lid, sticking out of the Tuckers’ azalea bushes.

Second Team Member: I’ve already lost three lids this season.

Bob: All right, all right---we’ve got 60 seconds to go.

Fifth Team Member: Click-through ads department is go, Bob.

Bob: Do we have some flashing animated graphics featuring creepy hopping monsters in garish colors?

Fifth Team Member: That’s our bread and butter, Bob. We’ve also added some screaming sound files that will automatically play when the page is opened.

Bob: That’ll make those cubicle dwellers jump! Keeps ‘em coming back for more excitement. Okay, what else?

Sixth Team Member: Thunder probability group is go.

Bob: Hold on—thunder probability?

Sixth Team Member: It’s an important service to our readers, Bob. Parents need time to prepare their explanation—should they tell the kids that thunder is the sound of angels bowling? Or a huge but friendly dragon who comes out to play when it rains and whips his tail around the sky? Or maybe it’s a giant invisible accountant who secretly wants to be a drummer for a rock band and occasionally sneaks out of his office to practice.

Second Team Member: I like the dragon one.

Bob: I don’t believe this.

Seventh Team Member: Hold it, Bob--we’ve got a problem …there’s a weather event moving in!

Bob: You mean it’s about to rain.

Seventh Team Member: I believe the preferred term is “weather event,” Bob.

Bob: Eh, we’ve already copied and pasted Mr. Sunny-Face---let’s just go with it. Oh, and don’t forget to add a link to the YouTube video of that guy’s cat being dragged up into a freak dust devil. People need to know that behind those dry, meticulous weather statistics is a group of meteorologists who aren’t just in this for the science…Let’s show the world this is one weather website with the right stuff. Okay, people--let’s publish!