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This is a place to look at the humorous side of life and laugh at the everyday things we all go through and also just a view of my twisted impression on some things. Have fun and enjoy!

Thursday, May 27, 2010

What game show are you?

When I’m rich and famous and Barbara Walters knocks on my door wanting an interview, I’m ready. She’ll probably ask me if I was a game show, what game show I’d be because she asks questions like that.

I would answer, “What is Jeopardy?” That would be a lie of course but it’s my interview and if I want to be Jeopardy, I will be. I’m really more of a Wheel of Fortune girl but Jeopardy is much more impressive.

Wheel of Fortune is so easy - I could win thousands on there. At home, I solve approximately 98.2% of the puzzles. If I went on the actual show, I’d probably solve 1.8% of them. My brain doesn’t work when there’s a television camera in my face and the world is watching.

The puzzle could be - H_T D_GS - and I’d guess, “Hate Drugs? Hut Digs?, Hit Dogs?” Then I would tell Pat Sajack that his puzzle makers are mean because I don’t hit dogs and I don’t like people who do. Either that, or when the camera was on me I’d just stand there drooling and not be able to answer at all.

One person who has it made on that show is Vanna. They don’t even need her to turn letters but they keep her anyway. All she has to do is fake turn them. She really doesn’t even have to turn the actual letter anymore, she just touches it and makes a bundle of money.

“We don’t want you to do anything but wear pretty dresses, high heels, and touch letters.” Really? How do I get a gig like that? Pretty soon they’ll tell her to just stand there in her pretty dress and wiggle her nose like Samantha on Bewitched and magically reveal the letters.

Next thing you know, she’ll be on a lounge chair in Tahiti with an umbrella drink and one of those pointing sticks teachers use just pointing at the letters on a tv screen. She won’t even have to sit up or go in to work, they’ll bring a film crew to her.

Here’s my idea. I say they have a game show that’s a competition for Vanna’s job. If Vanna wants it, she’s gonna have to fight for it with the rest of the crowd. Well good luck Vanna because I’ll be there. And you know who I’m getting my training from? Those ball grabbing guys at tennis matches. You ever notice how fast they move? They’re just a flash before your eyes.

So when it’s time to go up against Vanna to touch a letter, I’m gonna have tennis shoes on and spring at those letters like a grasshopper. I’ll even do a couple of back flips on my way there. They better reinforce the letters because I’ll be bouncing off them. If Vanna gets in my way, I’ll knock her down and stand on her back to get the higher letters if that’s what it takes. Vanna’s goin’ down. This would make Wheel of Fortune much more fun to watch.

I don’t do well in Jeopardy because it’s the adult version of Mother May I? (No it’s NOT because I don’t know the answers.) I have to answer in the form of a question and instead of that, I just blurt out the answer. Alex Trebek gets all high and mighty and enjoys the heck out of telling you you didn’t form your response as a question.

Really Alex? While you stand there acting so smart when they GAVE you all the answers. At least I’m out here screaming the answers in the wrong form which is more than I can say about you. By the way Alex, I have to go to the bathroom, Mother May I? Did I form my question properly?

I like the part where Alex lets each person tell a short little story or bit of information about themselves. These people who are smart enough to get on Jeopardy can’t ever tell an interesting incident about their lives.

Alex says, “And we have Mr. Einstein from Maine, it says here that you like to scuba dive, isn’t that right Albert?”

“That’s right Alex and I once went diving and found a piece of silver from a pirate ship.”

“My, my, that’s impressive Albert. I bet you have that safely stored in a safe deposit box.”

“No Alex, because it ended up being just a pop can tab so now I collect pop can tabs from around the world. Can I have yours?”

That’s kind of how their interesting little stories go. You end up scratching your head and asking, “Huh? Is that the best he/she had even with time to think of a best story?” That’s not even an interesting story, that’s a stupid thing you did and even dumber is the fact that you told it on national tv.

Maybe they can get more answers - excuuuuuuse me - questions right but I can tell way better stories and in life, what’s really more important anyway? Neither. Winning money is more important unless you have Vanna’s job.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I've fallen for it and I can't get up

Do you ever feel like those prescription drug commercials are talking directly to you? They ask, “Are you sleepy, crabby, sneezy, dopey, etc? We think you really need this here new drug we made. If your doctor doesn‘t offer it to you, ask her for it. If she says no, stare at her in a weird way.”

As they name off the symptoms, I’m sitting there with my checklist marking them off. If they had an ‘all of the above’ button, I’d push it. I’d slam that clear plastic case down over that big red button and scream, “DEAL!”. By the time they’re done, I’m convinced I have whatever they want me to have. Either that, or I’m the reincarnation of Snow White.

The qualifying questions are so normal they‘re odd. “Do you get thirsty, tired or hungry at times? Do you ever feel a strong urge to sit? When you do sit, do you ever get tired of sitting? Do you want to get up but can’t? If you stay seated, do you feel guilty about just sitting on your ass instead of getting things done? Well then, we’re pretty darn sure you need this drug.“

My eyes are bulging with fear because I answered, “yes, yes, yes, yes, OMG YES!” as I stumble to my feet and then fall.

They get you coming or going. There’s really no way that you can’t have whatever illness they want you to have. Then when you start worrying about having this illness, another drug commercial comes on and asks you if you find yourself worrying excessively and you have to get out another checklist.

I’m a pretty happy person most of the time but I have some bad days now and again. Am I depressed? I didn’t think I was until I saw the drug commercials and now I seem to meet the qualifications. I don’t know though, some of the commercials are just a slight bit suspicious.

One of them that’s trying to convince me that I’m depressed is kind of weird. At first I didn’t even think it was a commercial - I thought it was a Night of the Living Dead movie. The people in it are all dragging around the grocery store with blank looks in their eyes. It’s in black and white because color might convey some sort of cheer and clearly these zombies are severely depressed in their colorless world.

I got all excited when I first saw it and ran and grabbed a bowl of popcorn and a big glass of pop. I settled down into my movie watching position but the “movie” ended in 30 seconds. I was all set to watch the zombies eat each other and instead I find out I’m depressed.

When I was a kid, we didn’t have prescription drug commercials. We didn’t put in requests for drugs from the doc, we just took what he offered and figured he knew more about prescription drugs than we did. Now it’s like going to the deli.

“I’d like a half pound of ham sliced thin and 3 months of Prozac. Can you put a little less Zoloft in the potato salad? I‘ve been too happy lately.”

If you’re depressed, what are you shopping for anyway? If I’m so depressed that I don’t want to get out of my chair, how did I get motivated enough to drag around the grocery store? What do I care about food? I don’t care about anything. I’m depressed.

The only thing I can figure is that they’re all making their way to the deli for their antidepressants in that commercial. Sometimes I have to wait longer at the deli than I do at the doctor’s office so it does make sense.

So apparently I’ve fallen for their stupid commercial and I have diagnosed myself as depressed. Here I thought I just wanted a ham sandwich. One thing I do know is that they’re not ever going to convince me that I have erectile dysfunction.

Monday, May 3, 2010

I'm not drunk

I live in a small town and when you think of small towns, you think outdated and behind the times. Not true with us. We have a post office and have had it now for oh...three weeks or so. The Pony Express was still working well for us but the darn horses were drawing social security and said they wanted to retire to Florida and spend more time with the grandkids. They're so spoiled.

I love it here but if you want to go shopping, you're not going to find any exciting stores here. By exciting, I'm talking Target instead of just Walmart and Kmart. Do you know anyone else who gets excited to shop at Target? Now you do. As a result of our limited store options, I do most of my shopping online.

Which is fine with me because that way I get to stay in my pajamas and never leave the house. It's beginning to piss me off when I have to leave the house and put real clothes on. I don't walk around naked but I have a very nice collection of pj's and sweats that coordinate very well. Sometimes I find a pink, flowery pj bottom and the nearest clean top is an orange and lime green plaid one. See what I mean? Perfectly coordinating. It's not like I'm going to a high society ball or to Target - I'm going to the kitchen or living room.

Even if I'm not shopping on it, I'm on the computer too much. I email friends a lot. I waste hours and hours of my day checking and rechecking if anyone made a comment to me on Facebook. When I finally force myself to get off of it to do the dishes, I create some emergency excuse that leads me back to it.

Standing there with sudsy hands, I exclaim, "Omg! I totally forgot that I wanted to find out what year Seabiscuit ran!!" I abandon the dishes and dive for the computer. I feel like some sort of alien force is sucking me to it. Maybe I'm brainwashed. That might not be such a bad thing because like the dishes, my brain could use a good scrubbing.

What's been driving me crazy lately on the computer is when I try to buy something, log into something, or just try to get info on Seabiscuit, this series of wobbly, distorted letters and/or numbers comes up and wants me to type in what I see. What I see is what the label looked like on an almost empty bottle of Boon's Farm Tickled Pink wine when I was 17 and in the dark trunk of a car sneaking into the drive-in movie.

I put on my bifocals and twist my head sideways (like the dog does every time he hears a cheese slice being opened) in an effort to "see" what these letters are. Sometimes the letters are jammed up so close together that I must dissect and examine them like I'm a neurobiology scientist (if there is such a thing).

I print the page and put it under my microscope. I gather all my colleagues around and we come to a consensus on a possible theory. We then test the theory by plugging in the letters we think we see and it fails every time. I then continue to keep inserting these same exact numbers and letters 50 million times thinking that it will work the next time.

I'll try all caps. No, doesn't work. I swear at the screen thinking I will frighten it into accepting my letters. Sometimes the letters will change if you don't get it right the first time and it's really bad if that happens. The letters you just spent 3 hours on examining are now gone and you must now reexamine a new set of letters and numbers.

"Is that a 3 jammed up to an "I" or is it an 8? That's the question your brainwashed mind will ask itself because at this point your colleagues have abandonded you and your work for a sale at Target. They didn't ask you to go because you are dressed so ridiculous.