The Miss Universe Pageant got a little ugly on Sunday. I guess even those beauty queens will go to desperate measures to ensure victory.
I swear this dress is itchier than normal. What's it made out of?
Apparently, someone was so dead set on Miss Puerto Rico not pulling out a victory, that a series of pranks occurred. Her bag and credit cards were all stolen, a bomb threat was called in to halt competition and finally, someone covered her clothes and makeup with pepper spray! Pepper spray? That ingenius bastard. Now, despite this being a clever and sneaky way to exact a little vengeance, the perpetrator forgot one tiny little detail. This is a beauty competition. It's not like the winner actually gets to rule over the universe. It's the only competition in the world where when someone says, "Oh, she's just another pretty face," that's a compliment. Also, "Miss Universe" is a bit of a misnomer, I mean, do we really know that she's better looking than the top level ladies of Planet Greeblenor 9? Get it together, beauty pageant prankster. There are more important things in life.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
Potato Day
Well, the turkey has come and gone, the family fun has ended, but there was a much more important issue that people weighed in on. Turkey Schmurkey. How do you like your mashed potatoes? It is the main job that I partake in on the bestest of all holidays....one devoted to devouring tasty food.
To Lump or Not to Lump
Besides the fact that my potato mashing audience did not reply kindly to suggestions of change (Apparently, no one likes to break with tradition), there is always a question of the lump to smoothness ratio. Now, I feel like without any lumps whatsoever, then how is one to know that they have been mashed entirely by hand. However, with too much lumpiness, then it is apparent and poor tasting. I mean, let's face it, who wants to chew their way through a lot of potato to get to the good stuff. This year there was a lot of stressful tasks involved in getting it all ready.
Supplies were missing at first, there were greater time constraints, 3 other pots to manage on the stove at the same time. It was nearly impossible to create any kind of potato masterpiece under conditions such as though. However, I battened down, stretched out my fingers and went to town on those potatoes. There was no time for hesitation. With the hour growing later and the masses growing hungrier, every mash could be my last. The feverish mashing went on and on. My mother was just going to have to wait to get the stuffing finished, and the corn, and the green beans, and the sweet potatoes. Oh no, what horror have I caused? I wiped the potato from my forehead, and I looked down at the two filled pots of mashed up goodness. Were they ready? I had no choice but to abandon my post. Dinner could not be delayed for mashed perfection. The needs of the many food courses outweighed the few.
Luck would strike me soon after. The crowds were happy. The angry villager family members put down their pitchforks. I had underestimated the creation that I had made due to time constraints. My potato legacy was untainted, and the magic would carry on for at least one more year without me being voted off of potato island
To Lump or Not to Lump
Besides the fact that my potato mashing audience did not reply kindly to suggestions of change (Apparently, no one likes to break with tradition), there is always a question of the lump to smoothness ratio. Now, I feel like without any lumps whatsoever, then how is one to know that they have been mashed entirely by hand. However, with too much lumpiness, then it is apparent and poor tasting. I mean, let's face it, who wants to chew their way through a lot of potato to get to the good stuff. This year there was a lot of stressful tasks involved in getting it all ready.
Supplies were missing at first, there were greater time constraints, 3 other pots to manage on the stove at the same time. It was nearly impossible to create any kind of potato masterpiece under conditions such as though. However, I battened down, stretched out my fingers and went to town on those potatoes. There was no time for hesitation. With the hour growing later and the masses growing hungrier, every mash could be my last. The feverish mashing went on and on. My mother was just going to have to wait to get the stuffing finished, and the corn, and the green beans, and the sweet potatoes. Oh no, what horror have I caused? I wiped the potato from my forehead, and I looked down at the two filled pots of mashed up goodness. Were they ready? I had no choice but to abandon my post. Dinner could not be delayed for mashed perfection. The needs of the many food courses outweighed the few.
Luck would strike me soon after. The crowds were happy. The angry villager family members put down their pitchforks. I had underestimated the creation that I had made due to time constraints. My potato legacy was untainted, and the magic would carry on for at least one more year without me being voted off of potato island
Friday, November 2, 2007
At Least Spider-Man Turned Out OK...
Spider bites can lead to all sorts of dangerous outcomes. There's swollen limbs, poison, super powers, and also the ever present desire to suddenly rape someone.
The spider made me do it!
Instantly climbing the ladder to the top 5 of the dumbest criminals, this guy tried to convince a court that the poison from a spider is what made him crazy enough to become a rapist. Strong defense there, pal. Next time, I get stung by a bee, then I can't wait to see what I'll get away with. I have been feeling like cash is a little tight. I didn't mean to rob that bank, the bee made me do it. Something about the combination of the honey and the toxins made me turn into Loony McPsycho, the publisher of the Crazytown Gazette. Imagine what a mosquito might do. That taint to the bloodstream could make you go insane with rage. Who is that person who looked at you funny when you cut them off getting off the subway? Next time, buddy, next time, I'm going to....what's that? Oh, he lost the case? Um, disregard this last paragraph.
The spider made me do it!
Instantly climbing the ladder to the top 5 of the dumbest criminals, this guy tried to convince a court that the poison from a spider is what made him crazy enough to become a rapist. Strong defense there, pal. Next time, I get stung by a bee, then I can't wait to see what I'll get away with. I have been feeling like cash is a little tight. I didn't mean to rob that bank, the bee made me do it. Something about the combination of the honey and the toxins made me turn into Loony McPsycho, the publisher of the Crazytown Gazette. Imagine what a mosquito might do. That taint to the bloodstream could make you go insane with rage. Who is that person who looked at you funny when you cut them off getting off the subway? Next time, buddy, next time, I'm going to....what's that? Oh, he lost the case? Um, disregard this last paragraph.
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