I went shopping on Saturday with my mom. We started off at a few garage sales. I found some blinds for my bedroom and the spare room for five bucks a piece. After that my mom asked me if I wanted to go check out TVs because I had mentioned that a few places had them on sale this week.
"That'll be the ultimate sticker shock, " I laughed. "From looking at three dollar items to thousand dollar stuff."
Man I hate electronics shopping. I stand there and stare at all the different sizes, colours and brands and I have no clue. The ever so helpful sales people have a clue though. They know they can drown me in specs and technical terms and eventually I'll cave in and take their word for it.
I could have done more research and actually learned about what I should be looking for but I could hardly be bothered. It's just not that high on my priorities. I needed a TV. I wanted a modest sized LCD panel to hang in my living room or possibly the spare room. I don't watch a lot of TV or movies so I don't really care about the slight differences in picture or sound quality. I just wanted something functional and affordable and I was not going to let anyone talk me into something I didn't need.
But there I was in Best Buy at the end of a long afternoon of hopping from store to store, and I was looking back and forth between four different screens, two of which were out of the price range I had in mind, trying to figure out which one looked better. Even though they all looked about the same I tossed a few options out purely based on my unsubstantiated opinions about the brands. Aside from that I was lost.
One of the sales guys spotted me and took me in under his wing. He told me what he thought I should get and I trusted him. He was cute and I liked the way he talked with me. Yes. That is how I made my decision about my TV. That is how I also ended up buying the wall mount, fancy dancy cables and extended service plan and spending about $200 more than what I thought I was going to.
How'd this happen? I think I have an idea. I hate the experience of electronics shopping, so I instead decided to turn it into something like shopping for a guy. The first place I went to was Leon's. An older guy caught me there but didn't have too much to say. Then I went to Visions. Mmm. That place was nice. All the guys were in suits. I almost got something there but I guess there was still something missing from the total package.
The next place I went to was The Brick. I hate The Brick. That place makes me feel dirty. Every time I walk in there the guys just look at me like I'm their next big fat commission cheque. The sales guy who pounced on me there tried to dazzle me with his technical knowledge but he wasn't interested in what I had to say or what my needs were. He seemed kind of desperate so I felt bad about walking away. Finally when I couldn't take him anymore I lied and told him I had to go look at chairs, which is the equivalent of telling a guy you can't see him tonight because you have to wash your hair.
Best Buy was the last stop. I was tired and overwhelmed and then along came Richard (I think that was his name, oh well, let's pretend it was). He was a cutie all right. He had the glasses, good shoes a sweet and honest face and a hot pair of cargo pants. He told me about how he was working on one of his last shifts because in two weeks he was getting shipped out by the military. I also learned that when he first moved out he had buckets for chairs in his living room (I didn't care at all how ridiculous and made up that sounded). He said over and over that he wasn't going to pressure me into anything but he knew that I didn't want to be there anymore than he did. He wanted to be at the beach or the gym. Yeah, suddenly I wasn't in a drab electronics store buying a TV, I was in the sun playing Frisbee on the beach with Richard. And while I was handing over my credit card and chatting about Starbucks we were grabbing drinks somewhere.
At the end of it all he walked me and the TV to the door and waited with me while my mom brought the car around. Then he loaded it into the car--just like any nice guy would do. Then he shook my hand, bid me adieu and we parted. See, I didn't buy a TV. I spent $1300 for a 20 minute date with Richard and he gave me a TV. Sweet huh? I know I have about 2/3 of my readers shaking their heads in disgust right now. *Shrug* I'm just glad that chore is over. Go ahead and shame me now.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
North Dakota Nights
This is a post I wrote after the first weekend of June but didn't get around to publishing until now so the date references are a little old.
I wish I knew better one of the drivers. I'd love to help out on a team in some way. My dad used to help one of his buddies with his late model car and I love listening to the old stories. I also have a dream to do some kind of documentary on dirt track racing. I think it would be fun to get together with a few friends and spend a few days talking with some drivers, track owners and fans.
After a quick tour around the pits, dad and I shoved our hands in our pockets and walked back to the motor home. I think he misses the old days as much as I wish I was a part of them. Take me back.
More pictures here
A perfect summer Friday night. Some people like to hang out on a patio with cold drinks. Some like to catch the latest blockbuster movie. Some head up to the lake for a weekend in the bush. Me, I like racing. Dirty, fast and loud. I had my first taste of the season this past Friday and I can't wait to get back.
My mom picked me up from work at 11:30. We came home, changed, threw some things in Truck and headed south to Grand Forks, ND. My dad had left earlier that morning with the motor home and Elmo. The drive takes about two hours. It's pretty boring, frankly. The scenery consists of farmers' fields, occasional overpasses and roadkill (which always makes me feel sad).
Grand Forks is a small city with a population of about 50,000. On Friday nights people from all around the area make their way to the speedway to watch four classes of cars chase each other around a 1/4 mile track made of dirt. There's a small green space on the east side of the track affectionately known as Little Canada, where Winnipeg fans and drivers park their motor homes for the night. Most are regulars and old friends who will greet you with a cold, cheap American beer (sometimes a Canadian one if you're lucky).
When we were 18/19 my friend Michael and I drove down a few times just for the night. After the race we hung out in the pits for bit, said hi to some people he knew and then headed home around midnight. Micheal's parents, Joyce and Mike park their motor home at the track for most of the season. Shortly after my mom and I arrived, Mike pulled up in his black Ford truck. My dad put Elmo on his leash and walked over to say hi. My mom and I couldn't believe dad was walking Elmo around. He just doesn't do that. I took a few quick pictures of the rare scene.
We weren't sure if the races were going to run that night. It had been raining off and on all afternoon and the skies still looked threatening. It was sprinkling again at 6:30 when the hot laps were supposed to be starting. Hot l
aps are a chance for drivers to test out their cars and see what kind of condition the track is in.
In between the rain clouds I took some pictures of the haulers pulling in and life around Little Canada. Mom baked a Papa John's pizza.
If you saw one of the rigs that drivers haul their cars around in out of context, you might think it was a truck and trailer going to a movie shoot. On the outside they're non-descript motor homes with a matching trailer. Inside, they're pretty tricked up. Racing is an expensive sport so only a few of the more successful drivers have the customized rides. And don't be fooled by the plain shell. Inside there's a flashy and powerful beast--sometimes that's just the driver.
The skies held in and the first heat started almost on schedule. They run four classes in Grand Forks. The street stocks are the entry class. Some cars are just a few steps above what you'd see in a demolition derby. Modifieds are funny looking cars that appear to have their front fenders missing and a short back end. The late models closely resemble the stock cars you'd see in NASCAR. The last to run are the sprints, which are funny looking small bodied cars with two big wheels in the back, two small wheels in the front, and a big wing on top of the car.
As the race night goes on, each class gets progressively faster and louder. The streets are like the opening act in a concert. They warm the crowd up a bit or sometimes just get annoying when it seems that they can't get one lap in without someone drawing a caution flag.
The lates and the sprints are my favourite to watch. They're fast, loud, flashy, and the driver skill level is impressive. When I was younger I used to beg my mom to let me go to watch a race but she always told me I wouldn't like it because it would be too loud. Crazy as it is, I think I like the sound the best. The roar is like a freight train and it rumbles against your chest when the cars reach full speed at around 120 mph. There's also nothing like the smell of burning methanol--the fuel that the sprints and lates use. It smells only slightly acrid and actually a little sweet.
Because of all the rain in the area over the past week, the track was pretty tacky--perfect maybe for a spa mud bath treatment but challenging to drive on. Usually when I've gone the track has been dry, which means when you go home your face is lightly dusted with black dirt and you'll blow black snot out of your nose. You can only imagine how the drivers manage to see through the dirt--cakey or dusty. Most use tear offs on their helmet visors--a stack of plastic films they can pull off as they get dirty. If you've never been to a race before, regardless of the track condition I'd advise you not to take any of the front row seats unless you feel you didn't eat enough dirt when you were a kid.
There weren't many Winnipeg guys to cheer for that night but Mike Balcaen (of the Balcaen and Sons Plumbing, Heating and Air conditioning company in Winnipeg) picked up first place in the late model features race. It didn't seem to matter to anyone watching that he's Canadian. The crowd was just happy with the show.
For the sprints race I like to watch the young and talented Mark Dobmier. He always takes the back of the pack challenge and I think I've only seen him lose it once when his drive shaft fell off. He took it again on Friday night and worked his way up to first place to take the checkered flag. He moves around the other cars as if they are stuck on second gear. My dad was cheering for Lou Kennedy Jr., the Winnipeg representative. Lou was doing well until he ran into the back of another guy and flipped his car. What a wreck.
After all the races were run, dad and I walked around in the pits a bit. Mom headed back to the motor home to check on Elmo. The pits are where fans get to talk to their favourite drivers about the wins, the losses,the awesome passes and the crashes. Some drivers are pretty friendly, others are just there to assess damages and pack up. It's a bit weird that the cars look so big from my seat in the stands yet so small and simple up close.
My mom picked me up from work at 11:30. We came home, changed, threw some things in Truck and headed south to Grand Forks, ND. My dad had left earlier that morning with the motor home and Elmo. The drive takes about two hours. It's pretty boring, frankly. The scenery consists of farmers' fields, occasional overpasses and roadkill (which always makes me feel sad).
Grand Forks is a small city with a population of about 50,000. On Friday nights people from all around the area make their way to the speedway to watch four classes of cars chase each other around a 1/4 mile track made of dirt. There's a small green space on the east side of the track affectionately known as Little Canada, where Winnipeg fans and drivers park their motor homes for the night. Most are regulars and old friends who will greet you with a cold, cheap American beer (sometimes a Canadian one if you're lucky).
When we were 18/19 my friend Michael and I drove down a few times just for the night. After the race we hung out in the pits for bit, said hi to some people he knew and then headed home around midnight. Micheal's parents, Joyce and Mike park their motor home at the track for most of the season. Shortly after my mom and I arrived, Mike pulled up in his black Ford truck. My dad put Elmo on his leash and walked over to say hi. My mom and I couldn't believe dad was walking Elmo around. He just doesn't do that. I took a few quick pictures of the rare scene.We weren't sure if the races were going to run that night. It had been raining off and on all afternoon and the skies still looked threatening. It was sprinkling again at 6:30 when the hot laps were supposed to be starting. Hot l
aps are a chance for drivers to test out their cars and see what kind of condition the track is in.In between the rain clouds I took some pictures of the haulers pulling in and life around Little Canada. Mom baked a Papa John's pizza.
If you saw one of the rigs that drivers haul their cars around in out of context, you might think it was a truck and trailer going to a movie shoot. On the outside they're non-descript motor homes with a matching trailer. Inside, they're pretty tricked up. Racing is an expensive sport so only a few of the more successful drivers have the customized rides. And don't be fooled by the plain shell. Inside there's a flashy and powerful beast--sometimes that's just the driver.
The skies held in and the first heat started almost on schedule. They run four classes in Grand Forks. The street stocks are the entry class. Some cars are just a few steps above what you'd see in a demolition derby. Modifieds are funny looking cars that appear to have their front fenders missing and a short back end. The late models closely resemble the stock cars you'd see in NASCAR. The last to run are the sprints, which are funny looking small bodied cars with two big wheels in the back, two small wheels in the front, and a big wing on top of the car.
As the race night goes on, each class gets progressively faster and louder. The streets are like the opening act in a concert. They warm the crowd up a bit or sometimes just get annoying when it seems that they can't get one lap in without someone drawing a caution flag.
The lates and the sprints are my favourite to watch. They're fast, loud, flashy, and the driver skill level is impressive. When I was younger I used to beg my mom to let me go to watch a race but she always told me I wouldn't like it because it would be too loud. Crazy as it is, I think I like the sound the best. The roar is like a freight train and it rumbles against your chest when the cars reach full speed at around 120 mph. There's also nothing like the smell of burning methanol--the fuel that the sprints and lates use. It smells only slightly acrid and actually a little sweet.Because of all the rain in the area over the past week, the track was pretty tacky--perfect maybe for a spa mud bath treatment but challenging to drive on. Usually when I've gone the track has been dry, which means when you go home your face is lightly dusted with black dirt and you'll blow black snot out of your nose. You can only imagine how the drivers manage to see through the dirt--cakey or dusty. Most use tear offs on their helmet visors--a stack of plastic films they can pull off as they get dirty. If you've never been to a race before, regardless of the track condition I'd advise you not to take any of the front row seats unless you feel you didn't eat enough dirt when you were a kid.
There weren't many Winnipeg guys to cheer for that night but Mike Balcaen (of the Balcaen and Sons Plumbing, Heating and Air conditioning company in Winnipeg) picked up first place in the late model features race. It didn't seem to matter to anyone watching that he's Canadian. The crowd was just happy with the show.
For the sprints race I like to watch the young and talented Mark Dobmier. He always takes the back of the pack challenge and I think I've only seen him lose it once when his drive shaft fell off. He took it again on Friday night and worked his way up to first place to take the checkered flag. He moves around the other cars as if they are stuck on second gear. My dad was cheering for Lou Kennedy Jr., the Winnipeg representative. Lou was doing well until he ran into the back of another guy and flipped his car. What a wreck.After all the races were run, dad and I walked around in the pits a bit. Mom headed back to the motor home to check on Elmo. The pits are where fans get to talk to their favourite drivers about the wins, the losses,the awesome passes and the crashes. Some drivers are pretty friendly, others are just there to assess damages and pack up. It's a bit weird that the cars look so big from my seat in the stands yet so small and simple up close.
I wish I knew better one of the drivers. I'd love to help out on a team in some way. My dad used to help one of his buddies with his late model car and I love listening to the old stories. I also have a dream to do some kind of documentary on dirt track racing. I think it would be fun to get together with a few friends and spend a few days talking with some drivers, track owners and fans.More pictures here
Friday, May 25, 2007
Would a drink from any other brand taste as sweet?
Duane did a post on the cost of living a branded life that got me thinking about what my buying habits may say about me. I am guilty of paying $4.10 for a tall (fancy word for small) no fat (made with skim milk) whatever-flavour-of-the-month latte, extra hot (on cold days) at Starbucks. I am not a regular coffee drinker; I consider it a treat, like ice cream. But, like the true Winnipegger I am (where the W stands for wholesale), my pretentiousness is cheap. I have a Starbucks Visa that rewards me with Starbucks funds every month so half the time I don't pay for those overpriced cups of bean juice. I like Starbucks because every time I go in there I still feel like a kid in a toy store with all my allowance in my back pocket. I hope I never start taking the experience for granted.
Soon I will be a homeowner and I know I'll have to cut back on the experience shopping. Yesterday I checked out the coffee at Macs. They had two basic varieties--breakfast blend and Colombian. The Colombian would have been my pick but it was nearly empty. I picked a flavour shot and got to pump it in myself. Then I poured my own milk. It was actually kind of fun making it all myself. The cost? For the same amount of coffee in a tall Starbucks drink I paid only $1.40. I could buy almost three of those compared to one just up the street at Starbucks. So there you go, Macs was cheaper and it did the job of warming my hands and insides just fine.
I find the idea of branding fascinating. I really admire well branded products because I have an understanding of what goes into building a brand. As a consumer though, I don't think I get too hung up on brands. There are a few I like to support in the same way I am loyal to a favourite sports team but that allegiance usually comes from a personal history I have with the company.
Here are a few brands you can label me with:
Chevy
My dad always drove Chevrolets. He sacrificed his Camero for me when they realized it was awkward to put a baby seat in the back. He had an old green truck for a while that I loved. When we watch a race together we cheer for Chevy teams. I know what everyone says about the American car makers but it would feel very wrong if I tried to become a Honda Civic girl.
McDonald's
I don't eat fast food but if I had no other choice I'd pick McDonald's over any of the other places. My Aunt, who I admire a lot, had a long career with McDonald's working her way up from the store level to Community Relations Rep. As a result, I grew up on McDonald's schwag. I went to the beach with a Ronald McDonald towel, I poured Kool-Aid from a McDonald's pitcher and I happily amused myself for hours with all the Lego sets from McDonald's Happy Meals. When I got my first job in advertising working on the McDonald's account I felt like I was part of a legacy. The job also gave me a lot of respect for the business and how it became successful.
MTS
My friends tease me about how my dad swears by the local phone company. They know he works there but I don't think they know how deeply rooted the company is in our history. My dad started working for MTS when he was 17. It was where he met my mom--the shy, blonde, small town girl who delivered inter-office mail and blushed when he whistled at her. He's worked his way up and around the company a bit and managed to survive the cuts and layoffs. When he retires in three years he will have put in 38 years of service. So yes, I am a little biased, but I think MTS is the best choice in Manitoba for phone, Internet and cable services.
The Bay
My Grandma worked at The Bay office in downtown Winnipeg for years. I remember going down and meeting her for lunch at The Paddlewheel Restaurant with my mom and sister. I remember her proudly introducing us all to the other ladies that worked there. I remember all my Christmas presents being wrapped in Bay boxes. Sears and Eaton's were just department stores, The Bay is family.
Google
I'm adding this one for Vince. About two years ago Vince tried to get me to open a Google account and I refused to give in. I don't remember what finally made me make the switch from MSN and Hotmail to Google and Gmail but today I am almost completely Googlified (Google branding actually does not appreciate the use of their name as a verb. Sorry Google). I use Gmail, Gtalk, Google Picasa, Google Reader, (Google) Blogger, Google Maps, and Google Search. Today, my loyalty to Google is reinforced by the fun Google experience I had last summer. I don't know what I'll do if Vince goes back to work at Microsoft.
Soon I will be a homeowner and I know I'll have to cut back on the experience shopping. Yesterday I checked out the coffee at Macs. They had two basic varieties--breakfast blend and Colombian. The Colombian would have been my pick but it was nearly empty. I picked a flavour shot and got to pump it in myself. Then I poured my own milk. It was actually kind of fun making it all myself. The cost? For the same amount of coffee in a tall Starbucks drink I paid only $1.40. I could buy almost three of those compared to one just up the street at Starbucks. So there you go, Macs was cheaper and it did the job of warming my hands and insides just fine.
I find the idea of branding fascinating. I really admire well branded products because I have an understanding of what goes into building a brand. As a consumer though, I don't think I get too hung up on brands. There are a few I like to support in the same way I am loyal to a favourite sports team but that allegiance usually comes from a personal history I have with the company.
Here are a few brands you can label me with:
Chevy
My dad always drove Chevrolets. He sacrificed his Camero for me when they realized it was awkward to put a baby seat in the back. He had an old green truck for a while that I loved. When we watch a race together we cheer for Chevy teams. I know what everyone says about the American car makers but it would feel very wrong if I tried to become a Honda Civic girl.
McDonald's
I don't eat fast food but if I had no other choice I'd pick McDonald's over any of the other places. My Aunt, who I admire a lot, had a long career with McDonald's working her way up from the store level to Community Relations Rep. As a result, I grew up on McDonald's schwag. I went to the beach with a Ronald McDonald towel, I poured Kool-Aid from a McDonald's pitcher and I happily amused myself for hours with all the Lego sets from McDonald's Happy Meals. When I got my first job in advertising working on the McDonald's account I felt like I was part of a legacy. The job also gave me a lot of respect for the business and how it became successful.
MTS
My friends tease me about how my dad swears by the local phone company. They know he works there but I don't think they know how deeply rooted the company is in our history. My dad started working for MTS when he was 17. It was where he met my mom--the shy, blonde, small town girl who delivered inter-office mail and blushed when he whistled at her. He's worked his way up and around the company a bit and managed to survive the cuts and layoffs. When he retires in three years he will have put in 38 years of service. So yes, I am a little biased, but I think MTS is the best choice in Manitoba for phone, Internet and cable services.
The Bay
My Grandma worked at The Bay office in downtown Winnipeg for years. I remember going down and meeting her for lunch at The Paddlewheel Restaurant with my mom and sister. I remember her proudly introducing us all to the other ladies that worked there. I remember all my Christmas presents being wrapped in Bay boxes. Sears and Eaton's were just department stores, The Bay is family.
I'm adding this one for Vince. About two years ago Vince tried to get me to open a Google account and I refused to give in. I don't remember what finally made me make the switch from MSN and Hotmail to Google and Gmail but today I am almost completely Googlified (Google branding actually does not appreciate the use of their name as a verb. Sorry Google). I use Gmail, Gtalk, Google Picasa, Google Reader, (Google) Blogger, Google Maps, and Google Search. Today, my loyalty to Google is reinforced by the fun Google experience I had last summer. I don't know what I'll do if Vince goes back to work at Microsoft.
Uptown Girl
On Sunday I went to the mall. I took the bus down there as a quasi protest to the $1.19 gas prices. I also had a thought about heading downtown to the planetarium after I finished my shopping and quite liked the idea of not having to deal with downtown parking. It was almost easy. Apparently on Sunday the bus I took downtown doesn't go as far as I had hoped so I had to do some walking.
The show was good. I went there wanting to find out what the glittering diamond was that I saw the night before just below the moon. I had a hunch it was Venus and hey, I was right. I forgot how cool the planetarium was. I really enjoyed it. I think it would be a good place for a first date. The only draw back was the small crying children drowning out the presenter guy. If I was two I'd probably be crying too sitting there in the dark with some huge scary machine whirring around in the middle of the room.
Anyway, after I was reacquainted with the night sky and once again confident about locating the north star, big and little dippers and Leo the Lion, I hiked back to the bus stop. On my way I passed by two funky red chairs in the window of an antique shop. I love red. I love red Popsicles, red Lifesavers and red shoes. The shop was closed so I decided I'd go back on my lunch hour on Tuesday to check the chairs out.
Joanna drove me down (in her little red car) on Tuesday afternoon and agreed that the chairs were awesome. At $170 for the pair I figured they were a pretty good deal given the excellent condition and quality. Sold. As we drove back to the office I remarked to Jo how things seemed to line up perfectly that weekend in order for me to find the perfect chairs. The planets were quite literally aligned, because had I not noticed Venus in the sky on Saturday night I would not have gotten the idea in my head to visit the planetarium and then I would not have found myself walking down Main Street that Sunday afternoon. Hit me with a bus, I found my destiny.
Today my mom took Truck to meet me after work so we could go pick the chairs up. She slid over to the passenger side to let me drive at which point I realized that I was going to be commanding my vehicle through rush hour traffic. On a Friday afternoon. Downtown.
These things stress me out but we made it to the store without anyone getting hurt. I walked up to the lady at the cash desk and announced that I was there to pick up the two red chairs in the front window.
"Do you have anyone here with you to help?" she asked.
"My mom."
"Oh, well... you have to carry them out yourself, I can't help you and they're pretty heavy chairs."
"You don't have a dolly or something?"
"No, I'm sorry. You can come back on Sunday when the owner is here and he can help you."
So I went home chairless. Thank God it's the weekend. Someone get me a drink.
The show was good. I went there wanting to find out what the glittering diamond was that I saw the night before just below the moon. I had a hunch it was Venus and hey, I was right. I forgot how cool the planetarium was. I really enjoyed it. I think it would be a good place for a first date. The only draw back was the small crying children drowning out the presenter guy. If I was two I'd probably be crying too sitting there in the dark with some huge scary machine whirring around in the middle of the room.
Anyway, after I was reacquainted with the night sky and once again confident about locating the north star, big and little dippers and Leo the Lion, I hiked back to the bus stop. On my way I passed by two funky red chairs in the window of an antique shop. I love red. I love red Popsicles, red Lifesavers and red shoes. The shop was closed so I decided I'd go back on my lunch hour on Tuesday to check the chairs out.
Joanna drove me down (in her little red car) on Tuesday afternoon and agreed that the chairs were awesome. At $170 for the pair I figured they were a pretty good deal given the excellent condition and quality. Sold. As we drove back to the office I remarked to Jo how things seemed to line up perfectly that weekend in order for me to find the perfect chairs. The planets were quite literally aligned, because had I not noticed Venus in the sky on Saturday night I would not have gotten the idea in my head to visit the planetarium and then I would not have found myself walking down Main Street that Sunday afternoon. Hit me with a bus, I found my destiny.Today my mom took Truck to meet me after work so we could go pick the chairs up. She slid over to the passenger side to let me drive at which point I realized that I was going to be commanding my vehicle through rush hour traffic. On a Friday afternoon. Downtown.
Construction. Closed lanes. Pylons hugging the inside lane. One way streets. Lost drivers. Casual pedestrians sauntering across the road. Pothole! Driving in circles trying to find the closest parking lot.
These things stress me out but we made it to the store without anyone getting hurt. I walked up to the lady at the cash desk and announced that I was there to pick up the two red chairs in the front window.
"Do you have anyone here with you to help?" she asked.
"My mom."
"Oh, well... you have to carry them out yourself, I can't help you and they're pretty heavy chairs."
"You don't have a dolly or something?"
"No, I'm sorry. You can come back on Sunday when the owner is here and he can help you."
So I went home chairless. Thank God it's the weekend. Someone get me a drink.
...uptown girl--Billy Joel, Uptown Girl
She's been living in her white bread world
As long as anyone with hot blood can
And now she's looking for a downtown man
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
a toy story
It turns out that George did not whack Monkey. He had one of his goons carry out the deed. That goon's name is Animal.
Monkey made a miraculous recovery but something had to be done. Sometime this morning before George got in, Animal was skulking around, jamming up printers, stealing files, and generally just up to no good. You can imagine his surprise though when he found himself cornered by Penguin Pete, Lil' Penguin, Hamburglar, Monkey (who was not dead) and the number 24 Dupont Chevrolet.
Penguin Pete pointed some kind of paperclip weapon at Animal. "Get'im boys," he instructed.
The boys got him alright, but they didn't really know what they were supposed to do with him. After all, they were just filled with fluff. So they put him in the back of Baby Truck and drove.
The gang ended up at a local sports bar. "Buy us drinks!" Monkey commanded Animal (even though Monkey really was not supposed to be drinking, having recently being nearly dead and all). Animal, not quite sure what to make of the gang, obliged and bought a round.
After a few, the gang mingled with some other patrons. Animal, however, continued drinking.
Feeling pretty good and spiffy, Animal decided to try to chat up a girl. Sadly though, the girls were not buying what he was selling.
Whoa, Animal, what did you say to Kelly-Marie?
OUCH!
Feeling dejected but not about to let a good night go to waste, Animal went back to drinking...
...and got pretty darn drunk. Let's hope George doesn't see him like this.
Despite being full of fluff, the gang was also now full of beer. So they did the responsible thing and took a cab home.
And while George and Jill are sworn enemies, it seems that Monkey, Hamburglar, Lil' Penguin and Animal are now the newest Get-Along-Gang. Perhaps there is hope for George and Jill yet. Perhaps.
Update: Animal didn't look so good today
Monkey made a miraculous recovery but something had to be done. Sometime this morning before George got in, Animal was skulking around, jamming up printers, stealing files, and generally just up to no good. You can imagine his surprise though when he found himself cornered by Penguin Pete, Lil' Penguin, Hamburglar, Monkey (who was not dead) and the number 24 Dupont Chevrolet.
Penguin Pete pointed some kind of paperclip weapon at Animal. "Get'im boys," he instructed.The boys got him alright, but they didn't really know what they were supposed to do with him. After all, they were just filled with fluff. So they put him in the back of Baby Truck and drove.
The gang ended up at a local sports bar. "Buy us drinks!" Monkey commanded Animal (even though Monkey really was not supposed to be drinking, having recently being nearly dead and all). Animal, not quite sure what to make of the gang, obliged and bought a round.
After a few, the gang mingled with some other patrons. Animal, however, continued drinking.
Feeling pretty good and spiffy, Animal decided to try to chat up a girl. Sadly though, the girls were not buying what he was selling.
Whoa, Animal, what did you say to Kelly-Marie?
OUCH!Feeling dejected but not about to let a good night go to waste, Animal went back to drinking...
...and got pretty darn drunk. Let's hope George doesn't see him like this.Despite being full of fluff, the gang was also now full of beer. So they did the responsible thing and took a cab home.
And while George and Jill are sworn enemies, it seems that Monkey, Hamburglar, Lil' Penguin and Animal are now the newest Get-Along-Gang. Perhaps there is hope for George and Jill yet. Perhaps.Update: Animal didn't look so good today
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