Competitions during the Honduras Women’s Prison Beauty Pageant included talent, swimsuit and vaginal smuggling.
Deaf Karaoke Jam.
I’d been at a pub with a friend for an hour or so last night, when the bartender told us that a Karaoke DJ was setting up. We rolled our eyes and started talking about our next move (the frick out of there) when a large group of 20-somethings invaded the place. As they ordered beer and talked amongst themselves, it quickly became apparent that they were all hearing impaired – hands were flying wildly in conversation and folks were writing messages for the bartender to read. We decided to order one last round and sit tight, as it was deaf-initely about to get very interesting. See what I did there?
After a regular got up and did the worst version of “With or Without You” I’ve ever heard, the deaf kids started getting into the action. They read the words off the monitor and tried to keep time with the music. Maybe they could feel the vibrations of the music – I have no idea – but they all get an ‘A’ for effort in my book. At the conclusion of every song, the crowd went wild and the smiles those people had on their faces when stepping of the stage were a sight to behold. Good for them.
Friday’s Quizzlet: Crowded House Of Pain.
Appetizer: Briefly describe your living room.
You can have a look for yourself right here. Note the mugshot of a young Sinatra (it’s the same photo you can see on the wall of Tony Soprano’s office) then there’s the singing Dean Martin doll, the Tragically Hip tour pster over the fireplace, way too many DVDs, The Bullitt poster to the left of the fridge, a James Dean, a DeNiro and finally Tony from Big Country strumming away on the television. The middle of the big white couch is where I write the majority of my entries here – so welcome to my world. And if you want to see what the place looks like when the Concord or Welland boys come to visit, we can do that too.
Soup: List 3 things you’d like to accomplish before the end of 2005.
I’d like to complete all of the half-finished websites I have ‘in development’. A friend recently called me a ‘fanatical collector of domain names’ and she’s right – but there’s a few good ideas lurking amongst all the false starts, and I need to focus them into some revenue streams. But likely I’ll just start building filthy clown porn sites because according to my server logs, that’s an unexploited niche. Picture a red rubber nose that can also be repurposed as a ball gag, and you’ll see where I’m going with this/throw up.
Salad: When you’re online, what do you spend the most time doing?
Managing PPC accounts, checking on client rankings, hunting for custom made jewelry and looking for that perfect Boston Interior Designer. Nate sent me this site today where people combine band names. I submitted my own this morning and we’ll see if it gets published. “Pack it up, pack it in, let me rock it like the Finns…“
Main Course: What would the title of your autobiography be?
“Pull the Trigger”. I need to stop spinning my wheels about so many things in my life. I am getting better. I’ve pulled the trigger a few times recently. And if you’re giggling about the potential for euphamisms here, Punch the Clown instead.
Dessert: What time do you usually go to bed?
Far too late. If I don’t get 7 hours, I’m luggage. And I’ll never learn. But I have a sleeping disorder and many episodes of the brilliant Rescue Me to catch up on. If anyone has a bottle of sleeping pills they’re not using, properly and responsibly dispose of them by sending them directly to me.
The English Mental Patient.
You all remember Taz, don’t you? Here’s a lovely little joke I found from him in my inbox this morning. I’m a bit strapped for time today, so please have a giggle and talk amongst yourselves. I will get to the Quizzlet eventually.
A bloke is in a queue at the Supermarket when he notices that the rather dishy blonde behind him has just raised her hand and smiled hello to him.
He is rather taken aback that such a looker would be waving to him, and although familiar he can’t place where he might know her from, so he says, “Sorry… do you know me?” She replies “I may be mistaken, but I thought you might be the father of one of my children!”
His mind shoots back to the one and only time he has been unfaithful. “Christ!” He says, “Are you that stripogram from my stag night that I shagged on the snooker table in front of all my mates whilst your mate whipped me with some wet celery and stuck a cucumber up my arse!?”
“No.” she replies coldly,”I’m your son’s English Teacher.”