Monday, September 29, 2008

How not to be a people magnet

In an attempt to conquer my misanthropic streak I read a self-help book called How to Be a People Magnet : Finding Friends-and Lovers-and Keeping Them for Life. The theory of the book is to make every single person you meet like you and to become your friend, both as a way of networking (you know the type of thing: the man handing you your McDonald's Burger could in ten years be the head of a Hollywood study theory of networking). But apparently above and beyond making tons of friends, being liked will make you feel very good about yourself. Also you will be making the world a better place by making eye contact with everyone you meet. The author, Leil Lowndes, also encourages brushing your arm against a store clerk or street sweeper, to signal that you think they are your equal and that they are not just an automaton who takes your cash or cleans your car. "This will create a deep personal bond between you and will make the other person's day." (not a direct quote but you get the gist)

Now there was no way I was going to brush against any common or garden man on the street but I was prepared to give her theories a whirl. So, yesterday I was in Barnes and Noble when this guy comes into Starbucks and sits down and without buying anything from Starbucks, takes out four pieces of sliced bread from a plastic bag plus some ham, and starts to make sandwiches. I decide to make eye contact with him to signal: "I don't look down on you, in fact I respect the fact that you are making your own sandwiches for ten cents a pop rather than shelling out $7 to buy them at Starbucks."

I am not entirely sure that the man got that signal because a few minutes later, while I was at the magazine rack reading a copy of UK Cosmopolitan (Headline: Dannii Minogue would give everything up for the right man), Sandwich Man comes up to me and, addressing my rack says:

"I see you're a big Vogue reader."

Me: "It's actually Cosmopolitan. I don't read Vogue because its 90%adverts."

Sandwich Man: "I love Vogue too. In fact I know a guy who does the pictures for it."

I smile ineffectually.

"I love her." He jabs his finger at some TV magazine at an actress I have never seen before. "Do you watch her show. It's amazing isn't it?"

"I'm afraid I don't," I say, before scuttling off.

What I learnt from the experience was that I don't want to be a people magnet and that I don't need to be liked by everyone. I need to be liked by my five best friends ... and that's it.

But by all means try it. Try making eye contact with strangers and tell me what the results are. I hope you get a glowy happy feeling from it but I didn't.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Who is Benny Lava?

Oh gosh, oh gosh, I nearly peed myself at this video.

And now I'm so turned on and I'm scratching my head wondering, who is the hot mystery man in this video? Who is Benny Lava?

Is it:

a. Legendary foul mouthed blogger Fingers?

b. George Michael after an excessive session on a sunbed?

c. Big Hairy Bush?

d. Borat?

e. The Hoff?

Or could it be anyone else you can think of? Answers please. This is a competition and the one who gets it right will win the self adhesive chest wig or if you're a woman you can cut it up into merkins.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Witch, lech or fool?

In recent tymes I foundeth myself at yon Renaissance Festival and after much jostling, tooing and froing, and much bear baiting and maypoling, I found myself, after partaking of the mead, upon the stage where a man with long beard was trying to discredit me as a witch and have me burnt! What a scoundrel! This lustful Greybeard was trying to find out if I really was a witch by poking me with a stick to make me scream, but I ended up having a rather droll time of it and being offered an opening at a brothel.

Listen closely to the video, but for those with little time for such tomfoolery here is the punchline:

Greybeard, after poking me with a stick and making me scream: Have you always been a screamer?

Witch Hazel (me): Yes

Greybeard: I only ask because I own three brothels and at the moment there’s an opening.

Witch Hazel: What are the rates?

Greybeard: Well it’s rather easy work, the rates are not so good .. it depends on, on … Look woman, don’t be funnier than me!

[note: at the end I was found to be guilty of being a witch, but did not perish by fire because it took too long to rubbeth two sticks together to create flame. Hurrah! The witch continues to bloggeth]

I do not believeth myself to be a witch, do you? And now I ask thou yonder audience, am I not more fool than witch?

Or more lech than fool?

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Twelve Nipple Special

How times change. Going to the Maryland State Fair the other day I realized I had matured. Unlike when I was a fresh faced youth and I would have spun on every ride until I was covered in vomit, I only went on two rides. The first was a Spinning Apple you sat inside that smelt of feet which made my stomach churn. In fact I had to tell the kids to stop spinning it. So in fact I only went on a Static Apple. The second ride I went on was the dodgem cars and my five year old drove because I couldn’t handle the pace.

Regarding culinary matters, I think I showed a huge amount of resolve. I did not eat the deep fried Oreos or the deep fried Twinkies. In fact, I think I showed remarkable restraint by only having the fried dough (aka funnel cake) – at under 4,000 calories the healthiest option.

Next I got my eyes a-streaming (allergies) in the petting area. When I was a kid I was always intrigued by those notices (see above) at swimming pools which had a list of rules such as:
1. no smoking
2. no bombing
3. no gymnastics
4. no petting

For years I wondered what petting was. I guess it was an outdated term even in the seventies. In any case, at this fair, the petting area was not full of teens trying to put their tongues down each others throats and was instead full of pigs, cows, chicks and llamas who’s experience of petting each other had probably been limited to a turkey baster and a spot of artificial insemination.

"That llama looks just like mum in the morning before she's had her coffee."

And now, for the twelve nipples. Like them? It was a good feeling knowing that however saggy my tits get, they will always look better than this.

What is your experience of fairs? Have you ever vomited on a ride or been stuck up top for hours on the big wheel?

Monday, September 08, 2008

Thursday, September 04, 2008

Sarah Palin for VPL

Well, the first thing I did when I heard that Sarah Palin was standing as the Republican candidate for VP was call her up and congratulate her. She laughed about it because she said when John McCain first called her to ask about being VP she thought he was trying it on and talking about her VPL. But once that little matter was sorted out, she was delighted to accept.

Now a lot of people think Sarah is ill informed, or maybe a little provincial. But in an intimate chat over a mooseburger she told me that she 'welcomes all types of white people.'

It is such a relief to at last have a candidate who talks the plain honest truth about the fact that human beings were created by God. And she is particularly blessed because Bristol is at present carrying the Messiah and will soon be having a virgin birth.

God bless this country. Palin is fully qualified to carry the intellectual baton that W. Bush has passed onto her.

This is a new dawn for the Republican Party. They should put their troubles behind them. Time was it was impossible to find a good impersonator for Dubya outside the animal world. But thank God for Tina Fey who will impersonate Palin with pride and make millions in the process.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

I got crabs

Don't get me wrong, I really like animals. As long as they're running around in TV commercials and not in my house. It's a bit like children. You really get a false impression of the reality of kids from the movies. Like, I was hooked into wanting kids when I saw Diane Keaton in Baby Boom create a million dollar baby food company while her toddler happily played on the floor beside her without putting its fingers into a wall socket or pulling every single item out of her desk like a real life toddler. The reality was somewhat different. Ho hum, you live and learn.

But seven year old Scarlett has been whining for a pet so I have been thinking of the alternatives. Luckily I am allergic to cats and dogs, since the idea of picking up doggy doo doo on the street has never really appealed (how does Paris Hilton do it without ruining her manicure?) Does she employ a special person to pick up her chihuahua's poop (A Shit Scraper) or do the dogs wear designer diapers? I think we deserve to be told.

Did you happen to see the most beautiful Shitpoo in the world?

But since Scarlett has been whinging and whining I have been giving careful consideration to the possibilities. The other day I met a man on the street who was carrying the most adorable Poodle Shih-tzu cross and I was tempted to get one for a minute. Because of the poodle in the mix it is suitable for people with allergies. But this still would not solve the problem of picking up the poop and I can't afford to employ a Shit Scraper like Paris. Also, what do they call them, Shitpoos? That's quite a bad name.

So then it seemed like we were getting somewhere when we were at the playground and Scarlett met a friend called Dana there who was carrying a portable plastic container containing a hermit crab. They took the hermit crab for a walk and Scarlett seemed very taken with it. Until she picked it up and it pinched her and locked onto her skin for twenty seconds and she screamed bloody murder.

I thought that might have put her off but she still wants a hermit crab. They are only four dollars each and Dana said she had got through five in the last few months so even if they die it is no biggie. But even with hermit crabs you would be surprised at the paraphernalia involved. Dana said she had bought a special hermit crab shower and that she had built a crabarium which featured a special crab swimming pool and diving board where, apparently, the last hermit crab, called Diver, had crashed to his death in an unfortunate diving accident.

Dana also said that one of the other (now deceased) hermit crabs once escaped from the crabarium and ran over her face at night. Which kind of gave me the creeps.

I can't believe that even the most innocuous pet has a downside. So what pet do I give her? I am scratching my head wondering, what is the least maintenance pet in the whole world?