Greetings from the Omnigraphic Blogopticon. On view are vile sticky things dragged from the attic, snarky commentary on the world at large, and all-encompassing ennui. All that and a weird rubbery smell. A horrible time will be had by all.

Friday, November 27, 2009

It Was Dead When I Bought It, I Swear

No, I didn't shave Grady and put him in a roasting pan. I spent yesterday morning doing unholy things to a dead bird, but luckily for anyone who came over to eat not one of those things involved Jell-o. And none of us got sick, in case you were wondering.

Grady got a saucer of roast chicken and gravy, mainly to shut him the hell up and to keep his fat ass off the table because the little pig thinks he's starving. The evening's entertainment involved him climbing both the bedroom and bathroom doors about seventy-five times and playing fetch for something like an hour, then he was out like a light for the rest of the night.

In the spirit of my fruitless attempts at World Domination, most of which involve boring everyone stupid or merely making random people miserable, we watched most of the Square Pegs DVD that I just got for about $4 used. I think I hate this show more than I did when it first aired back in 1982. The scripts are skimpy and tired, I hate the characters, and the clothes aren't even funny enough to keep me awake. Why the hell would two girls want to be friends with people who call them "that fat girl" and "that fat girl's friend"? Holy crap, I think I even hate the DEVO episode.

The only amusing line out of a whole fucking season of lame episodes was one where Muffy (that loud girl) and Patty (that fat girl's friend) are standing on a table in the lunchroom, god knows why. Jennifer and LaDonna (the two popular girls) are at foot-level staring at their preppy shoes. Jennifer says, totally perplexed, "Like, both of them are wearing brown shoes with, like, money in them." Completely pointless line and amusing for absolutely no reason, except that maybe by that point I was worn down and made delirious by 15 or so episodes of truly half-assed comedy writing.

My brother and his dorky friends used to wear black penny-loafers with dimes in them, fer chrissakes.

I thought the 80s were a bit scarier than Square Pegs wound up being. So, for a punchline we hauled out my high school yearbooks, which were quite a bit more amusing than any half-assed old sitcom. I'm still a bit horrified and creeped out by the whole exercise. Sadly, the part of the 80s when I was in high school was mostly dull and uneventful, rather than chock full of wacky sitcom-style happenings in goofy clothes while a perky New-Wave soundtrack blared. I had no friends named Ducky, nor knew any guys who skipped school to do lame things in Chicago, neither did I spend my 16th birthday eating cake with Jake Ryan. Life did not look like a Go-Go's video, unfortunately. I think I spent my three years of high school reading books and working on a Rubik's Cube. Oh yeah, girls who read and played with Rubik's Cubes were totally popular. Totally.

But at least I never wore shoes with, like, money in them.

Whilst blearily spending my post-Thanksgiving Friday watching MST3K tapes, I came across episode #604 Zombie Nightmare, which reminded me of this supremely retarded party game an acquaintance of sub-standard intelligence claims to have come up with. It seems you are presented with the scenario of being chased by vampires (or zombies, as the case may be) and you're trapped in a warehouse full of stuff and you have to use this stuff to fight them off. But he says the warehouse has "anything" in it, which I said wasn't much of a challenge. I could just go and pull the tarp off a Sherman tank or crack open that crate of Ninjas. It could be the warehouse for the flame-throwing-chainsaw factory or the one that holds atomic-powered robots. Not much of a challenge there.

"Suppose," I said, "just suppose this warehouse was full of pies? How the flaming hell would you kill vampires with pies?" Because I'm obnoxious like that, and I wonder about stuff like how you could fight off cannibalistic aliens with a bag of groceries or build a zombie-proof shelter with stuff found in a Taco Bell.

Or what if you were trapped in a warehouse much like the one my brother used to work in, the one that stored really cheap-ass party supplies? You'd have to fight vampires with one of those paddle ball thingies, a Chinese finger trap, and a whoopie cushion, all the while wearing a party hat. I mean, dude, if you're going to think up a fucking party game, at least use some imagination. It doesn't make me at all inclined to go to any parties where I'm going to fall asleep five minutes after I get there because the games suck.

A better game, instead of something pointless and brain-dead like deciding which middle-aged overdressed Sex and the City skank you're like, is to try and figure out which Big Bang Theory character you most resemble. I mean, that's a totally different head. Totally.


Scott said...

"My brother and his dorky friends used to wear black penny-loafers with dimes in them, fer chrissakes." No, we did not. I had a pair of black penny loafers, but I was the only one who wore them and I never put coins of any denomination in them. So there.

Also, my word verification is locral which sounds like some kinda hillbilly mispronunciation of local: "I only watch the locral news because that other news ain't nothin' but a buncha foreigners."

the black purl said...

In the party suply warehouse the berfday hats would be chewed into jailhouse shivs, and if you braided the paddle ball stuff together you may at least be able to escape the doomed warehouse while the zombies are confused about the party hats in their necks, which will smell like human, but not taste like human.

Maybe the pies have holy water in them?

BlackCrow said...

You sure it aint Grady in that roasting pan? Looks the right size!
boy he is turning into a fat little pig with nipples and all!
I don't know that game sounded good to me. Embarrassingly I remember one party we were made to one at a time get up and dance with a card board box over our heads while being filmed! And yes copious amounts of alcohol was involved!

Severina said...

I kinda think the holy water pies might be too easy. If I'm not allowed to have a Sherman tank then maybe holy water pies are right out.

Grady won't fit in the roasting pan! Lord knows I've tried to toast his ass up a few times.

Scott, I think you at least talked about putting dimes in your shoes. I couldn't have dreamed up something that stupid.