Allyson, in Natter, on why event planning would NOT make good reality television:
She said it would be good for business.
I said it would be unlikely to be good for business, because event planners tend to constantly be dealing with fires, and some jackhole with a nut allergy who just ate the satay with peanut sauce, and some actor who got "lost" (read, had to tie one on) on the way to the party, and a the ice sculpture of David at the bris who was mistakely carved with a foreskin that you have to chip off in front of the horrified father.
We look like raging cuntbag bitchpie most of the time at the event, very unkind, unflattering. Great TV, but with no time for a camera tailing us when threatening the hotel staff with a pair of salad tongs for forgetting to put the sterno blue fire pu pu platter shit under the fondue.
And she said, "omigod you're so funny."
Definitely can't argue with that last statement.
Natter, bringing the surreal:
tommyrot:
Wasn't it just the other day that someone was asking if there were any giant pink bunnies in Italy?
Artists erect giant pink bunny on mountain [NB: this was a link to an article]
An enormous pink bunny has been erected on an Italian mountainside where it will stay for the next 20 years.
Matt:
Sure, it seems cute now, but what are they going to say when lightning strikes the thing and there's a 200 foot pink rabbit terrorizing the Italian countryside?
Perkins:
That Clovis is at it again?
tommyrot:
I think they will say, "Release the giant pink mountain lion!"
Except in Italian.
juliana:
Liberi il leone di montagna dentellare gigante!
In Bitches:
dw:
We don't do DB connections anymore for the web, only XMLHTTPRequest, and I keep dealing with people who don't know what to do with raw XML.
Plei:
Glower at it!
(What? It's worked for me since 2001.)
Cass:
If glowering at things is the key, I am shockingly underpaid for my skill set.
billytea:
Rice in a tube still strikes me as more acceptable than cheese in a can. Neither, however, compares to Chicken in a Biskit.
billytea, in
F2F:
context be damned. DAMNED, I SAY!
Pardon me boy... Is-that-the-Calling-of-Cthulhu? Track 29, madness outside of time...
Pardon me boy... Is-that-the-Calling-of-Cthulhu? Track 29, madness outside of time...
natter
In high school a friend of mine had a step father named Roy. When they got a cat, the cat chewed his new pair of shoes.
and we always used to sing...
Pardon me Roy, is that the cat that chewed your new shoes...
and I think of that every time I hear the song.
AmyLiz, discussing the scintillating cocktail party chatter of two relatives:
Their first topic of conversation? The comparative price of milk in different parts of the country.
tommyrot:
Well, it's a significant issue after Katrina shut down all the Gulf coast milk refineries.
AmyLiz:
::smacks forehead::
I forgot!
tommyrot:
Plus Katrina caused a milk tanker to run aground in the Gulf. Disaster was narrowly averted when the National Guard decided not to wait for FEMA authorizaion to activate the Emergency Cat Division.
brenda m:
Which authorization might've come in a lot sooner if W hadn't had appointed a (wealthy and conservative) terrier to head Operation Spilled Milk.
Gudanov:
Limbaugh characterized media complaints about the delay in authorization as "just crying over spilled milk".
tommyrot:
Meanwhile Limbaugh was having his maid buy black-market half-n-half for him. Limbaugh continues to deny rumors that he has a gray Persian named "The Gray Lady" and a Russian Blue named "Mister Piddles."
(Am I allowed to COMM my own husband to add his follow-up?)
