Afishionados,
I’m well on my way to creating another category here on OFAL. Another photo I spotted while on way to dinner tonight. Something’s amiss, here…
Afishionados,
So I’m watching HOUSE last night and Faux News was kind enough to intrude upon the lower portion of my screen with BREAKING NEWS! I know that Fox Noise is “fair and balanced” and would never1 lie to me or have a bias on one of their stories, but I just can’t figure out how men’s nipples tie in with the Republican agenda that Fox is constantly trying to shove down my throat. Thoughts?
In other news, large traces of dihydrogen monoxide were found in a local woman’s body, doctor’s say.
1Yes, yes they would.
Afishionados,
Whilst in search of bamboo for a 3D project, I happened upon this at a floral outlet store:
Afishionados,
Target gift cards specify “Ages 1½+” in the lower right-hand corner. And, honestly, what child wouldn’t want a nice plastic gift card in place of a toy? Remember, your kids are never too young to start being a part of corporate greed!
Afishionados,
I’m not a big fan of Hershey’s Kisses. You have to remove a whole roll of tin foil only to uncover a miniature piece of waxy chocolate. They’re more effort than they’re worth. And what’s with the stupid little flag?
I Googled for a photo of Hershey’s Kisses to coincide with my rant, and I discovered that you can buy your child a Hershey’s Kiss costume. Why would anyone do that? This costume is guaranteed to make your kid gay if it’s a boy. The Kiss hat will make him look like a princess. And those saddle shoes? No straight guy wears those. And if you should happen to buy this costume for a girl? It might not make her gay, but it will make her look too dumb to be seen in public. I guess the plus side is that if your child is ugly, you can wrap the dumb flag around their face so no one else is forced to look at them. There’s also good chance that the costume could also make your child a sociopathic killer. Don’t believe me? I offer up this photographic evidence:
Afishionados,
This post comes with fine print. You must agree to the following terms and conditions before reading this post. If you do not agree, click here to go to a happy place.
By reading this post you agree with everything written, said, and/or posted on this blog. By reading this post you acknowledge that you might be one of (though certainly not limited to) the following:
Article I.
1. An Ubercunt.
2. An alcoholic.
3. An Evil Bitch.
4. A drug addict.
5. An absolute waste of human life.
6. A vindictive asshole.
7. A hypochondriac.
8. A liar.By printing this post or any part of Old Fish and Lemonade and mailing it to ANY attorney you agree to ALL of the following:
Article II.
1. You agree to pay me $15,000 in cash.
2. You’re not worthy of the air you breathe.
3. Everything that I say is always right.
4. You’re completely incapable of doing anything for yourself because you can’t stand up to your parents.
5. I am absolutely fucking awesome.If you do not agree with ALL of the above you are in violation of the terms and conditions hereby in effect immediately by order of the Awesome King as of this moment on Friday, November 30th in the year of our Lord 2007.
These terms and conditions do not apply to “Fellow Inmates” with the exception of Article II: Section 5.
::Whew:: Sorry about that. It seems that my Fairy Tale post has ruffled some feathers so I had to add a disclaimer for this one. Now, on with the post. And remember, NO PRINTING AND MAILING to attorneys without agreeing to the terms and conditions of this blog. Any similarities to persons or things in real life, no matter how guilty those persons or things’ consciences may be, is pure coincidence.
Once upon a time in Magical Happy Land there lived an Evil Bitch. She was annoying, had short hair, and hunched a lot.
The Evil Bitch could never do anything without the permission of the mentally unstable Ubercunt. No matter how much she thought she was independent, the Evil Bitch was not capable of thinking for herself or making decisions on her own, for fear of upsetting the Ubercunt. Upsetting the Ubercunt would only lead to panic attacks, severe dramatic upchucking, and a fast, albeit pointless, trip to the Room of Emergency.
One day, the Ubercunt got it in her head to continually pester the Awesome King by making shit up and sending him copies of his fairy tales by means of a Loiyar. Though the Ubercunt considered herself a super hero, the reality is that she was nothing more than a fat Ubercunt in really bad tights.
One of the claims of the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch was that the Awesome King had been “text messaging derogatory messages” to the Ubercunt’s phone. This was not at all true, however, and the Awesome King would be MORE THAN HAPPY AND WILLING to submit the last few records of his cell phone statements as proof. After all, the Awesome King only gets 200 text messages a month with His Majesty’s Service Plan, and why would he waste them on the Ubercunt when he’s since met so many beautiful women at college and work?
The Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch also feared that a specific line from the Awesome King’s Fairy Tale was a threat to their life. “If only they could be silenced forever”. The Awesome King was confused by their reaction to a fictitious tale, and certainly never planned to take the lives of anyone. Especially not with gas at $3.15 a gallon. Sadly, the Ubercunt and Evil Bitch were gravely mistaken if they thought that the Awesome King cared enough to travel so far to do such things. No, children, the Awesome King would never do that. The Awesome King never meant it as a death threat. But no one ever said that the Ubercunt or the Evil Bitch were intelligent and that the Awesome King’s schedule certainly did not revolve around them and their guilty consciences.
In the end, the Awesome King also reminded the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch that there existed, even in Magical Happy Land, the Bill of Rights. The Bill of Rights happened to include the First Amendment, which states:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
This gave the Awesome King the ability to continue to write his fictitious stories and share them with his followers and admirers throughout all of Magical Happy Land.
And so, the Awesome King continued to live a happier life with his newfound friends from school and work and the memories of much, MUCH happier times.
Afishionados,
My nephew, Austin, is mostly potty trained. I say mostly because he can do everything except wipe his own ass. A skill that, in my opinion, is essential to human survival and one that everyone should possess. Unfortunately, Austin hasn’t quite reached this milestone yet.
A few days ago, I found myself alone in the house with just Austin and Kevin, my other sister’s fiance’. Kevin and I were sitting at the kitchen table surfing the Internet when Austin decided to run like hell to the bathroom (which is just outside the kitchen) and shut the door. Aside from the speed at which the child had moved, I didn’t think much of it. And then the door slowly creaked open, and the a small, squeaky voice announced, “Uncle Atlas, I pooped!”
At first I thought that perhaps Satan was just a soprano and was playing an evil trick on me. And then the voice spoke again. “Uncle Atlas, I said I poooooooooooooped!” I looked at Kevin and he looked at me. His ashen face was like that of a deer’s just mere moments before a van drives into it at 100 MPH.
“Not it,” he said to me as Austin continued to stand in the doorway, pants around his ankles and continuing with the updated status reports of what he had just accomplished.
Kevin is a doctor and a future pediatrician. Apparently, the noxious fumes from Austin’s festering floaters had permeated his brain, causing cell damage and creating a momentary lapse in memory and judgment. Clearly, Kevin was misinformed. And so I took it upon myself to correct his misguided outlook.
“I’m a graphic designer. You’re the pediatrician. If Austin needs crayons or coloring books, I’m there for him. But if there’s chunks in his cheeks, that’s your line of work. Start wiping.”
In the end (no pun intended), Austin wiped his own ass and Kevin gave a thorough inspection. Austin had done just fine by himself, washed his hands, and stepped out from the bathroom. As he approached the table, I congratulated him on his success. “Good job, Austin. Today, you became a man!”
I had a similar experience with Austin this past summer, when I really was the only one (besides him) in the house. My sister and my mother had gone out shopping, and Austin told me that he had to poop. So I did what any paranoid man would do: I sent a text message to both their cell phones.
“Austin has to poop. Come home soon.”
Thankfully, my ingenious plan worked and they arrived within minutes. Of course, I was prepared and had a backup plan in place. If mom and sis had not returned in time, Austin would have been stripped naked and placed safely and securely in a bathtub full of water until someone (anyone) came home.
Afishionados,
Borders Books and Music was kind enough to send me an email tonight, informing me of my membership earnings. I don’t know if I want to spend it all on one item or if I want to save some of it for later. I’d hate to just have it go to waste.
Afishionados,
It seems my cheapo printer has decided to terminate our relationship. It dumped me tonight, and I am a little sad inside. I was trying to print some stuff from Illustrator this evening and she decided to freeze up on me and throw a tantrum. I pushed her buttons, I admit, but she still wouldn’t help me out. Instead, she tossed me to the curb.
The reason, she says, is because I have an unsupported personality. She wouldn’t print my project out. No, sir. Instead I got this goodbye letter. I took a photo so you could see it. That just hurts. Hurts like a deep paper cut right through my heart.
Afishionados,
I saw this posted over at the Apple Discussion Forums on Apple.com. And I’m curious.
Because then I saw this:
I mean, shouldn’t he be able to fix his own shit? Any time I ever call for help, he’s the guy who answers.
