Archive for July, 2009

Double your money, double your revulsion

Why do I insist on wasting money trying new flavors and brands of gum that are impressively marketed and packaged, but taste worse then the five day old dove carcass that I refuse to move from my back yard because I would be depriving some predator of chosen protein? If I tasted that carcass, I mean.

This time it was Extra Fruit Sensations Island Cooler. It wasn’t the pictures of pineapple, orange and some mango/watermelon-looking-fruit on the front that pulled me in,nor was it the promise of “long-lasting fruit flavor”-that prospect could be hellish if the flavor sucked- it was the 88 cent price tag with my Safeway club card. The time before that it was Orbit fruity-mint something. Let’s gets something straight-fruit and mint do not mix unless they’re in a mojito.

This is my second date with Extra. The first time it was some exotic flavor that tasted like Rye bread with caraway seeds. I kept chewing it, though, because after all, it is gum and I’ve adored the stuff ever since my first one cent piece of Bazooka.

If Razzles (another perennial fave) are the lobster of gum, Bazooka is the steak, because it tastes like gum should-pink. And I’d still be spending every day and night with Bazooka Joe if it wasn’t for the cavities and the manic effects of sugar that guild my hyperactive lily. I guess I’ll have my chance now that someone is making a movie about him.

The other classics do nothing for me. Dubble Bubble tastes like a cross between third world bubble gum and wax lips, (although you have to give them props for misspelling their name long before it was fashionable) and Bubblicious tastes too big-in the same way that those giant Stay-Puft marshmallows don’t quite have the concentrated flavor of the regular-sized ones.

I think I’ll stick to an occasional giant gum ball. I put in my quarter, twist my wrist off, and the ball falls to the floor, where I pick it up and put it in my mouth. They pick the color, they pick the flavor, and I feel like a typical American, paying out of my ass and working my ass off, only to have someone else make choices for me.


July 24, 2009 at 5:00 pm Leave a comment

And the swine just keep on infectin’ n’ killin’

Last night, either Walter Cronkite or Walt Disney came to me in a dream-hard to tell. In a voice that alternated between reverb and bass, and reverb and treble, either the voice of the 20th century or the voice of Micky Mouse told me to always remember to keep the American public paranoid and/or entertained.

So as some pig named Wilbur is my witness, I will never, ever, stop talking about Swine Flu again.

July 19, 2009 at 11:37 am Leave a comment

it’s not too late to be paranoid about swine flu!

How easily we forget about swine flu-especially when one more celebrity death or political corruption/affair/resignation de jour pushes our fave mutant virus off of the news cycle. But with 37,246 confirmed cases and 211 deaths in the US, it’s time to drum up some American pandemic pride!

Swine flu One-the primer!

July 12, 2009 at 9:52 am Leave a comment

Hit me with your best club

The email below is an actual missive to some friends after a July 4th party.

Ok- our womens club was born last night on Dawn’s bed. Like a pupae, it will now take shape into an eventual butterfly. Or not.
I am such a nerd and my mind is still in high school. I started thinking about all this cool stuff we could do with our club-we could sponsor a dog or a third world kid, video or audiotape ourselves and make movies or podcasts to put up on the internet, do crafts, climb every major peak in the US, eat dim sum.
And then-this is the ultra-queer part-I was thinking about what the we could name it-like the Sisterhood of Traveling Pants or something similarly idiotic, what kind of induction ceremony we would have for new members, etc. I was thinking it could involve fire and sacrificing S’mores and rice cakes, although to me, sacrificing rice cakes is no sacrifice at all, unless they’re the kind with BBQ seasoning, i.e. gag suppressant. (Disclosure: the last two words of last sentence stolen from a “Simpson’s” episode.)
Then I realized that this kind of club would become a full-time job and people would just stop showing up for “meetings” because in my overly-ordered mind, we would call them “meetings,” which would turn a lot of people off, including me. In other words, I was creating a club that I would probably check out once, and then blow off.
So let’s just try to get together once every month or so and do something fun involving at least one or more of the
following: liquor, food, and sharp tongues, and laughter. If we agree on anything, it’s what will not be involved. I suggest Wiccan rituals, crying over two minutes, and discussions about fiber.

If you are not totally turned off by the above, let me know what weekend you’ll be in town over the next month.


P.S. I will not be the secretary just because I can write. The only notes will be in our minds to drift around our temporal lobes, or the lobe of your choice.

July 5, 2009 at 8:52 am Leave a comment

Tony! Toni! Tone! Get me out of this loser life for $69.99 plus S&H!

Tony Robbins may or may not be changing my life as you listen.

July 2, 2009 at 9:36 am Leave a comment

Roberta Gale

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