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Fri, Jun. 20th, 2008, 10:03 pm
New Blog

So, I have a new website that includes a blog. If you're interested in reading more of my postings, please go here.

Wed, Jul. 25th, 2007, 07:28 pm
Looting could be a fun hobby

Yet another of those fun game things...

What kind of looter am I? You decide!
You can also view a breakdown of results or put one of these on your own page!
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Tue, Jul. 17th, 2007, 02:08 pm
It's just flirting, you idiot

On a recent trip, I observed the difficulties of a guy (we'll call him Frank) who flirted too much.

I kind of sympathized with him yet also felt for the foolish girl (aka Anne) who was taken in by his charm. After all, it's not Frank's fault that he has an outgoing personality and that he also is touchy-feelie. On the other hand, he picked the wrong girl upon whom he lavished his undoubted skills.

Anne obviously is one of those females with very slow guy-dar. The type who believe that any guy paying that much focused and intent attention to her must be "into her." Yet, when he delivers the same banter and hands-on behavior to the next girl, she doesn't recognize the similarity. In fact, Anne emphatically stated that Frank was just flirting with the other girls while he most definitely meant what he said to her.

The upshot for the week-long trip was that Anne spent the entire time cuddled next to Frank: on the bus, at meals, while hiking, and trying to drag him to her hotel room at the end of the day. He, while enjoying the attention, clearly wanted to also spend time with others, including the other women in the group.

How can an intelligent woman not see what was so obvious to the rest of us?

Of course, many men have the same slow girl-dar. They react to a woman's momentary charm and attention as if it's a come-on. As if the woman, by being friendly and interested, has expressed her every desire to spend the rest of her life with the guy.

This behavior must stop. No, not the flirting and friendliness and charm. Rather, the annoyance of the slow ones who can't recognize the difference. So, here's a quick guide to help those slow guy- and girl-dars along:

1. Smiling and making eye contact while talking: listening.
2. Licking lips, watching your lips while talking: suggestive.
3. A nudge on your arm when making a punchline or quip: flirt.
4. Holding onto your arm after making a punchline or quip: interest.
5. A tap on your leg to gain your attention: friendly.
6. Sliding a hand along your leg to gain your attention: foreplay.

See the difference? A smile and/or touch is not expressing undying love and interest. It most definitely does not say, "I want to go out with you then throw you down on the closest breakfast table for mad, passionate sex."

Even though I'm the Evil Twin, I really try to not get caught by the slow girl-dars. But it does happen. And I've lost my patience: So, beware, men with slow girl-dars. I refuse to put up with your puppy-dog shit after I've simply been friendly. The next one of you who takes it into his head that I'm more interested than a simple eye-contact moment warrants will most definitely find out how evil an Evil Twin can be.

Thu, Apr. 5th, 2007, 11:10 pm

Because I always go with style...

QuizGalaxy!
'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com


So take that you snivelling do-gooders.

(I stole this blog idea from a really cool woman.)

Wed, Jan. 24th, 2007, 11:20 pm
Fine Schmine - Mayhem's Better

Another insipid meme, by way of Little Miss Boring

Are you effing kidding me? My fine is less than $300. Where are the line items for mayhem? What about the joy of flipping people off, or running idiots off the road?

Where do I get my fine glory? I most definitely am worth thousands!

Dumb-ass memes.

Mon, Sep. 25th, 2006, 06:21 pm
The Evil Twin in tears!

Truly, The Evil Twin tossed aside her patented Evil Twin Glare and broke into tears upon reading this posting:

http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/go_fug_yourself/2006/09/fugliette_binoc.html

Of course, they were laughter-induced tears. But we must admit when precipitation leaks from our eyes.

Wed, Sep. 13th, 2006, 08:16 am
Blue Hairs in My Way

Massachusetts needs to pass a law that grannies from Maine shouldn't drive during rush hour.

These menaces to free-flowing traffic are too hesitant on small town roads. They brake every time a car approaches from the opposite direction. They come to a full stop before making a turn (when there wasn't even stop sign). And most importantly of all...they get in my way!

[My sincere apologies to the family of the blue-hair from Maine driving the Ford Focus this morning. I'm sure the mortician will be able to iron out the tire treads before the funeral.]

Mon, Jul. 17th, 2006, 12:47 pm
Frakkin' Yankees!

Last Tuesday, before I left the Big SinkHole town, the weather gods decided to punish me with a series of nasty thunderstorms. Not that thunder, lightning, hail, flood or flickering lights can upset me.

However, the chaos that follows such occurrences in this neck of the woods can render any self-respecting Houstonian more crazy that pencil a shoved in her ear!

Because, when lights flicker and flooding happens, these frakkin' yankees -- who already are incapable of understanding basic driving rules -- lose whatever sense they had in the first place when they get behind the wheel. "Oh hey," they say to their unwitting passengers, "let's drive through that puddle. It can't be too deep!" And promptly drive their car off the road into a ditch of fast-running water. Another couple of drivers say, "Sure, this is the only underpass in the area. And I know that it's well below street level. But I'm also sure that the two or three inches of rain that's fallen in the last hour won't have filled it with water!" And they promptly dive into the lake at the base of the overpass.

But really, that's not this Houstonian's problem. If they're too stupid to stick to the dryer parts of the road, then there will be fewer idiots to get in my way! (It's simply a fine example of how stupid these folks can be.)

On the other hand, when one combines the idiocy of the highway department with the incompetence of local drivers...you get this scenario:

Imagine the very busy Rt 114 with three lanes running in each direction. The equally busy 4-lane Sylvan Street that intersects Rt 114 at an odd angle. A power outtage. And street lights that don't return to flashing red in all directions. Nope, in their infinite wisdom, the highway department has set the lights to flash red on Sylvan and flash yellow on Rt 114.

Taking into account that these frakkin' yankees are incapable of understanding right-of-way, and that they ignore yellow and red lights at the best of times, this scenario calls for more chaos than usual on the road. Some drivers stopped for the flashing yellow on Rt 114. Others never slowed down for the light. Whenever an opening occurred on Rt 114, the traffic from Sylvan flowed through with 4, 5, 10 cars at a time as if they had a green -- causing drivers on Rt 114 to slip and slide to a halt at the yellow.

Now, imagine the Evil Twin's screaming frustration in trying to maneuver through this insanity. I hate them. I hate them all.

I want all driver's education instructors and parents in this area to be keel-hauled for encouraging this behavior. And everyone at the highway department who makes traffic light decisions should be fired. In fact, just sack them all--some of their co-workers must be responsible for the sorry-ass signage in the area.

Maybe then I'll be satisfied.

Dammit.

Wed, Jul. 5th, 2006, 02:36 pm
GAHH!!

and ARRGHHH!!

I have been traumatized!

Must seek cable TV.
Must go to Home Depot.
Must shop Bed, Bath & Beyond.

MUST BUY SOMETHING DECORATIVE!!

GAHHH!

Mon, Jun. 19th, 2006, 08:37 am
Letter to the Gentleman in Seat 17C

For he’s a jolly good fe—heLLO, watch where you put that, mister!

This is a letter to the gentleman in Seat 17C on the Continental flight bound to Boston from Houston June 18 at 3:50 pm – and to his gentle wife in 17D.

Thanks for tilting your seat back into my lap. I really appreciated it. Especially since I had about 4 hours of work to do on my laptop. It was especially kind of you to continuously shift your position so that my uncomfortably angled laptop would jab my stomach. And as for your sweet wife who looked back to see my multiple grimaces of discomfort – wasn’t it nice of her to not disturb you with my problems?

I truly appreciated the half-hour during which you stood, but didn’t raise your seat. And let’s not forget the other half-hour where you leaned forward to eat but again left the seat back in my face.

You’re a real travel pro.

But don’t worry. The cramp in my left arm eventually will go away. And my doctor tells me that the indentation in my stomach should disappear in another couple of months. I’m gratified that you didn’t give a damn about that either. You really put yourself out there for fellow travelers.

So, I hope you weren’t too inconvenience when I rose to let the middle-seat guy up to go the bathroom. It was very rude of me to shove the back of your seat forward into the back of your head. Oh, and so sorry for the patented Evil Twin Glare™ that I leveled on you as I waited for my fellow passenger to make his way out of the seat. Truly, I didn’t mean to shove your seat for a second time as I re-seated myself – it just happened.

But hey, at least you got the hint and returned your seat to its full and upright position. Thanks. Thanks so very much. After all, we still had 30 minutes left in the flight. And the stewardess was announcing that we needed to put our electronic equipment away at that point.

You really made my flight.

In fact, I hope to see you again. Preferably while you’re squashed between two hugely massive sumo wrestler truck drivers who haven’t showered in a week, haven’t shaved in two years and think you’re looking mighty pretty.

Yeah, that really would make for a good flight, wouldn’t it?

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