Monday, December 03, 2007
outside the snow is falling
I just saw the commercial for that goofy Christmas Shoes movie. As IF the whole song wasn't bad enough, those shoes are FREAKING HIDEOUS!! Enough to put any sick person over the edge...
You know the commercial that grabs my ass? The Jimmy Dean breakfast sausage ad where the Sun is making breakfast for his wife and kids. Not the Moon and the Stars, mind you, we're talking human family. They're rushing off to school and his wife is rushing off to work before he reminds them that he will be lighting up the entire East Coast in a few minutes. Now I'm wondering how one would even meet the Sun, let alone start dating him? And how could one have sex with the Sun...you know without burning up on contact? Sometimes you just cannot suspend disbelief, no matter how hard you try.
The boss had The Today Show on while she was eating breakfast, and Ann Curry was kissing Brad Pitt's ass. He's decided to build homes in New Orleans for the hurricane victims, and the announcement was so astounding that he could only annouce it on The Today Show.
Ann says, "Brad Pitt just arrived and this is really early for him." It was seven freaking thirty in the morning. Since when is that "really early"?!
I just finished watching Kathy Griffin's new special "Straight to Hell". I love the bit about Barbara Walters at the end of the show. Kathy talked about being on The View, and the chicks were talking about menopause in the make-up room. They told Kathy her vagina was going to dry up, at which point she decided to have a little fun with Barbara, and she said, "Well, you know, Barbara, I'm not afraid of a little KY." To which Barbara replied, "I prefer AstroGlide."
Tell me if this story doesn't sound vaguely familiar. Overtime Hawg called me last night, faux crying and said, "Will you work for me on Friday or Saturday? My niece is on life support and she's dying. They're going to remove the life support on Monday and they think she'll be dead by the weekend, so I'll need Friday or Saturday off." I started to say, "How do you know she's going to die by the weekend, when it dawned on me that this is EXACTLY the same story she told me last year when she needed a weekend off because her sister-in-law was dying. And same deal, too, she called me on a Sunday to ask. What amazing physic powers she must possess. So anyway, she's doing this fake crying thing that she ALWAYS does and I said, "I can't work for you. I'm already scheduled for my own shift." Immediately her voice changes, and the crying stops. She said, "Oh, I forgot. Never mind then." Word to the wise: if you're going to fake cry to get your way, the least you could do is "stay in character" until ya hang up the phone.