Thursday, October 30, 2008

THE ENIGMA OF CANDY CORN


It galls me that I sometimes think about things that are absurd and meaningless and trivial and have absolutely no impact on anyone's life. Candy corn falls into this category with a loud clunk.

Just the other day I was wondering if these orange, white, and yellow triangles are sold only once a year.

If so, why would anybody be so dumb as to make a candy that you only buy on Halloween? Is there not a flaw in this marketing plan?

Does the candy maker go on vacation for 11 months, and then open up his doors again in October? Or do they secretly make candy for other occasions? Like heart candies for Valentine's Day. Ribbon candies for Christmas. Or chocolate bunnies and marshmallow eggs for Easter.

Maybe they should be cranking out little candy turkeys for Thanksgiving, firecracker candies for Independence Day, and still more candies for all the other holidays.

Come to think of it, the candy doesn't have to be tied in to a holiday. Look at candy corn!

Corn has nothing to do with goblins and witches and little kids in scary costumes ringing my damn bell and pestering me for crap that rots their teeth, gives them bellyaches, and makes them even fatter than they already are.

@#$%*@


PASS THIS ON TO FRIENDS OR RISK GETTING NO CANDY THIS HALLOWEEN.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

THE PLASTIC BAGS MYSTERY


It would seem safe to make the assumption that plastic bags don't grow on trees -- unless you live in New York City and spot them dangling from the freaking branches.

It makes you wonder what in hell's name shoppers are doing once they unload their groceries. I myself store my plastic bags in a cupboard and use them to cart trash or garbage to the compactor in the hall.

But apparently there's a whole other contingent out there with a more imaginative outlook. Perhaps they feel the need to free their damn bags from the restraints placed upon them by the less creative.

I envision a window being opened in the kitchen, some incantations are muttered in a cryptic language, and a kind of "dove releasing ceremony" is performed and sworn to secrecy by those practicing or witnessing it.

Maybe then the bag finds a decent breeze and flutters off in search of a new home in a nearby tree.

If the winds are wrong, it could take weeks to finally settle in. Hard to say whether they stay put once they land. I suppose the lazy ones stay. The restless ones probably go from tree to tree seeking the perfect branch.


While I find the hanging plastic bag phenomenon disgusting, some New Yorkers find a certain charm in our trees being festooned with tattered bags that grow grubbier by the day.

But if you plan to visit our city this fall as a tourist, it won't be in the brochure as a "must see" attraction.


@#$%*@

IF YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS AT ALL, SHARE THIS WITH THEM.

Friday, October 24, 2008

PEEKING AT BOOK TITLES


When somebody sits near us on a train or bus and is reading a book, why do we sneak a peek at the title?

I doubt we're counting on total strangers for help in selecting a book. I think we're seeking, for reasons inexplicable, penetrating insights into their private lives and innermost thoughts.

Hmmm … this plumpish woman sitting to my left … I deduce from the title of her novel that she's a middle child … probably a Libra … prone to crying jags during chick flicks …two miserable marriages … and a son who's in therapy three days a week and doesn't think it's enough.

This bearded guy sitting in front of me … he'll never finish that self-help book … high school dropout… went into his father's printing business … made a shambles of it … no wife, no girlfriend … no doubt lives with a scruffy cat that only stays with him to flaunt her feelings of superiority.

Sneaking furtive glances at other people's book titles is a conceit of jumbo proportions.

From a single feeble clue, we construct a complete character study in about 10 seconds. I think it's idiotic and reprehensible. And it's a shame that the bearded guy with the cat will never get his damn act together.


@#$%*@

FORWARD THIS TO FRIENDS AND A POX WILL NOT BE VISITED UPON YOUR HOUSE.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

USE YOUR WORDS


What's with our passion for abbreviations? And why is "abbreviations" such a long damn word?


Is it so difficult for us to say what we mean in whole sentences? I just got an invitation to a big party so I better RSVP. They said to BYOB.

Teddy Roosevelt, AKA TR, was our 26th president. May he RIP! I admired him more than LBJ, FDR, or JFK.

The Yankee star, who yesterday had 3 RBI's, was the DH. But next week he goes on the DL.

An alleged rapist, who had a low IQ and was being investigated by the FBI and CIA, was DOA. A year ago the same guy, a military misfit, was MIA. His father was an MP in WW2.

We sometimes even sign our letters with X's and O's. No doubt to get us through those moments of affection and caring as quickly as possible.

My brother's son was crazy about XMAS. The love letter was SWAK. I can't pay you now, I'll give you an IOU. The fighter was KO'd in the third round.

That package needs to be sent out PDQ. Most TV in the USA is barely OK. I need to catch some ZZZ'z. And FYI, he's not a registered democrat, he's a member of the GOP.


Honey, I need some TLC. Personally, I'd rather be getting some tender loving care than some TLC. One gives me a warm glow, the other sounds like a freaking sandwich.

Then there's computer speak. "Hey man, that joke was LOL." And if you ask me, MEGA, RAM, and GIG could easily be the bratty kids of some Hollywood starlet.

I like writing in complete thoughts without all the shortcuts and cutesy initials. In terms of communication and a clearer exchange of ideas, it's just better PR.

@#$%*@

IF YOU LIKE THE WRITING, SPREAD THE WORDS ASAP.

Friday, October 17, 2008

TO MAKE A LONG STORY SHORTER


People who write famous books write way too much and waste too many trees.


My advice would be to write what needs to be said and then shut the hell up. Authors, even the greatest ones, often fall in love with their own stunning revelations and blather on and on about them. Which reminds me.

How come the classics like Moby Dick and War and Peace are so tediously descriptive and long-winded?

Why the hell can't anybody ever write a damn classic in a hundred pages or less? You'd think if somebody was a brilliant novelist and original thinker, it wouldn't take so long to get the freaking point across.

It's my feeling--and you may disagree if you want to piss me off--that if these writers weren't so narcissistic and verbose, a lot more of us would actually read these epics instead of keeping them on our bookshelves for show.

@#$%*@

IF YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS AT ALL, SHARE THIS WITH THEM.

Monday, October 13, 2008

GOOD TO THE LAST DROP


Why would anyone with an IQ higher than a crenshaw melon put a beverage back in the refrigerator with one or two drops left in the container?

The container has essentially been put back EMPTY.

How come? Maybe the cretinous wanker was too full to finish it off. Or the dumb bastard couldn't locate the garbage bag. Or he thought, "What could be funnier than some sap trying to get a drink from a carton with nothing in it? Man, that's a good one!"

Could there possibly be a reasonable explanation for this kind of aberrant conduct?

If any of you out there are guilty of this, or you'd like to blow the whistle on someone who is, I'd be glad to hear your confession and the motive behind your peculiar behavior.

@#$%*@

IF YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS AT ALL, SHARE THIS WITH THEM.

Friday, October 10, 2008

UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT


Well, zip-a-dee-fucking-do-da! I never know what to think when I see a banner like this over a restaurant.

First of all, maybe I liked the old management. It's not like the new owners give you a list of past achievements so you can rate them and make a sensible choice.

All you get is this vague banner to win you over. I guess they're counting heavily on the word "new."

Now I have nothing against new. It's a perfectly good word, and where would advertising be without it. But I think we're owed more than a damn word. Especially given the current financial climate.

Here's what I want on their banners. A guarantee that none of their backers are greedy Wall Street swine who'd sell their kids for a capital windfall.

Plus I'd like some assurance that the chef is mentally stable. The food won't contain E coli bacteria or cause a salmonella outbreak. And that the waiters wash their hands frequently, or at least once before serving me.

True, it would require a larger banner. But it will bring credence and added comfort to their empty claim.

@#$%*@

PASS THIS ON TO FRIENDS OR RISK GETTING A STREAK OF BAD LUCK.