Tag: excerpts

CalFed ad on BART:

“YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CHANGE BANKS.”

Why do I suddenly feel like I should be wearing a shiny gold leotard and a cape?

11:01 a.m.

A quality rant from that other girl:

“I know this is going to sound really un-PC, but damn
woman, get a life, get laid, get something cuz’ this is just
so stupid to me – ‘Snowmen on Christmas cards reinforce
traditional gender stereotypes by reflecting men in
prominent, public roles and women in private, domestic
situations…’ I always just thought they didn’t look like women because
it is so hard to get the snow-boobies to stay on.”

9:46 a.m.

This magazine ad for Christina Aguilera’s new album reads like a blurb for a porn video:

“Like her other hits from RCA’s Christina Aguilera, “Come On Over (All I Want is You)” finds the perky popster piping her tales of teen appetite.”

2:46 p.m.

11:29 a.m.

A woman and man walking up the subway stairs behind me:

She: …all relationships could use a little more communication. All of them. For me, what I need is to know what’s going on with the other person.

He: Did you sleep with him?

She: What? I’m talking about us, not him.

He: Mmm.

She: I’m not talking about sex, I’m talking about communication.

He: Mmm.

9:40 a.m.

Ack! I love the “12 Galaxies United in Protest” guy! For those of you who didn’t know who I was talking about awhile back, here’s a site devoted to him that Mr.Kottke tracked down.

4:19 p.m.

Found this fantastic email on a bowling newsgroup. It was a search engine thing, don’t ask:

Kathleen,

Hi sorry it took me so long to get back to you. I would love to se some of
your cross stitch patterns. I am always looking for new project for the
house or the kids. I am finishing one for the bathroom right now and do a
lot for the kids rooms and little Christmas project and stuff. Bowling takes
up a lot of time and so do the kids but I try to get everything in. Anyway,
if you have a scanner and want to EMail them to me that would be great if not
we can do it another way.

Thanks Again,

Sharon

12:18 a.m.

When I’m really tired, my contacts grow fur to keep my eyes warm. Ug.

10:18 a.m.

Stuff that creeps me out (second in a series):

  • This post from wrong answer: Walking back to the office from lunch this past week, I stepped on a hypodermic needle. Well, I stepped on the rig, not the needle part – thank god. It is things like this that make me think it might be time to leave the big city.
  • The guy whose outhouse floor collapsed, he fell in and had to hang there for three days until the mailman found him.
  • This woman walked around with a knife in her neck for a few hours, and nobody noticed.

1:53 p.m.

Things I never remember:

  • Your birthday.
  • The Alamo
  • My past lives.
  • That time when.
  • Where I put my glasses.
  • My manners.
  • The Maine.

10:44 a.m.

EMAIL MOMENT!

Scenario:

A friend who wants to start crashing more dot-com parties.

Excerpt:

Dot-com parties rule! Ok, so I’ve
only been to one, but it ruled! Ok, it was the most
homogenous party I’ve ever been to but it was oddly
comforting! And they played Pump Up the Jam!

1:55 p.m.

You always know something cool has died when your parents get into it. “Oh, Margaret, I bought that rap album by the blond boy named after the candy? M and M? Anyway, I love it. Just love it. ‘I am Slim Shady, yes I am the REAL shady!’ ” Along those lines, yesterday I saw a Burning Man symbol painted on the side of a … Jeep Grand Cherokee.

12:15 p.m.

Let’s play the “worst way to die” game for a second. Acid bath, wheat thresher, slow consumption by hungry caged lions. (Stolen from Peex. )

9:55 a.m.

Kim Addonizio’s letter-perfect description of love:

“It’s the timbre of someone’s voice, the shape of their hands, the way they open a grapefruit or turn toward something that captures their attention. It’s the scar and the history of the scar, the pattern of small moles scattered on the forearm or belly, the words said or not said in love making, the individual, the unmistakable impress of that mouth and not another.”

3:53 p.m.

San Francisco moment:

Guy on the street wearing the head of a kid’s tiger costume as a hood, complete with ears. No one looks twice. God, I love this town.

12:02 p.m.

Are things really this bad in SF? Do guys with IQs high enough to code software need a guide that tells them how to approach a woman at a networking party? Um… you’re networking, it’s a party. Try “So, what do you do?” This is not rocket science, my friends. Then again, this article did have an brilliant piece of general advice for men on the prowl:

“Take a look at some of the spreads in Details. Do
you look like that? No? Get yourself down to the
Castro or whatever gay district exists in your
town, march into the most fashionable and snooty
clothing store you find and demand that a gay
male employee find an outfit for you. ”

11:07 a.m.

Someone gave me some “Tea Leaf Soap” as a gift awhile back. I finally opened it when I ran out of regular soap and used it this morning. It’s a pretty deep green with little brown tea leaves embedded in it, and it smells nice. Of course, I was covered with little brown tea leaves when I finished washing. When I mentioned to a friend that a debris-laden soap seemed counter productive, she looked at me incredulously, as though I’d missed an entire chapter in the girl handbook. “Rinse it off,” she said. Oh. Right.

11:07 a.m.

te>Couldn’t we all use a little John Denver right about now? We could:

Aye Calypso!
The place's you've been to
The things that you've shown us
The stories you tell
Aye Calypso!
I sing to your spirit
The men who have served you
So long and so well

Right. Why am I still at work?

8:47 p.m.

San Francisco Moment:

Guy in a Jeep Cherokee passed me this morning with his radio blaring. He stopped for the light and as the engine roar quieted, I heard, “THE NASDAQ COMPOSITE INDEX PLUNGED TO ITS LOWEST LEVEL IN 15 MONTHS…” He was blasting NPR. Rock on, suburban white guy.

10:16 a.m.

EMAIL MOMENT!

Characters: Friends from my college newspaper.

Subject: Finding a sugar daddy.

Excerpt (minus extraneous inside jokes):

Drew: I’ve been looking for a Sugar Mama/Daddy to support me while I finish my novel. Now, who the hell’s pulling down the most here?

Me: Extremely generous SWF seeks aspiring novelist to share mutually beneficial relationship and writers’ nest in city. I’m a wealthy editor seeking a young man to dot my “i”s and cross my “t”s. Can you prove that your sword is as mighty as your pen?

Matthias: The only four words I need to win Drew’s favor: Hung like a rhino.

Drew: I’d like to respond to ad box #133256, “SWF seeking aspiring novelist, etc.”: SWM, rugged, untamed, unflinching…Alaskan. Seeking a woman to clean game and fish including, but not limited to, caribou, moose, salmon, carp, trout, ptarmigan, grouse, bass, shad, dolly varden, raven, wolf, bobcat, house cat, sewer rat and the occasional feral monkey. Must have own knife and “fat-scraper”, must be able to make fire from snow, must weigh at least 195 (for boat ballast). Are you strong enough to be my man? I mean, woman?

Me: Um.. what’s dolly varden?

Jessie: That’s like Dolly Parton, except minus the gargantuan
boobies, and also it’s a fish.

2:05 p.m.