Thursday, September 30, 2010

La la la la lava

I now posses a lava lamp, for the first time in, well, ever.
It's pretty fantastic I must say, but I have noticed some things:

A. Lava lamps are kinda like fish tanks: both contain liquid and moving parts (i.e., lava bubbles and fish) that people like to stare at for the pretty colors and the relaxing mood that they facilitate. Lava lamps, however, do not need to be fed. Bonus.
B. Lava lamps make it fun and easy to waste electricity and heat energy.
C. Lava lamps create a nice ambiance, but cannot actually function as lamps. Do not try to read by lava lamplight.
D. Lava lamps were apparently made in different colors and sizes, but if memory serves, I have only seen one kind: blue, regular size.

I would like to add that lava lamps are just as cool now as they were when I was a kid, or more accurately, when the lava lamp fad was reincarnated during the late 80's and early 90's, but I definitely think that when my friends see it, their responses will be
A. "Is that a lava lamp?"
B. "Why do you have a lava lamp!?"
C. "Okay, weird..."
D. "Well, whatever makes you happy."

Whatever. I'll do what I want. And I'll do it with the lava lamp on.
Peace.

Pam Says:

"I don't care if I am stuck in August, I'm not staring at that dog!"

Pam Says:

"Your party starts at five, right? What if we want to party at noon?"

Pam Says:

(after imbibing a substantial amount of wine...)
"What? I'm just trying to stay warm."
*sip*

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

ass chicken

Today, in front of the Food Emporium in Union Square, I heard someone say this:
"they've got some bangin'-ass chicken salad"

Yeah.

I don't know exactly what qualifies chicken salad as being of the "bangin'-ass" variety, but it does not seem like a healthy or appetizing achievement.
Neither does "frozen-ass" chicken, (see below) or any kind of chicken that could be described using the word ass.
Now, I don't eat poultry, (except at Renaissance Faires), but if I did, I would appreciate it if the world would kindly keep its ass off my chicken.
Right?





(artwork from www.nataliedee.com)

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Between Birds and Pigs.

I would like to challenge the phrase "eats like a bird", and the reason it denotes a modest and light eater.
True, most smaller birds feed on little more than berries, seeds, and insects, and their larger, "of prey" counterparts probably don't make a habit of gorging themselves multiple times per day.
But still, birds feed themselves enough to induce a (seemingly) constant state of defecation, and their young greedily gobble-down the regurgitated contents of their parents' stomachs with vigor, which, when applied to the human world, sounds more like a serious health problem than a dainty dietary preference.

Baby Fat

Dear Cranky Fat Kid from the L train,
You almost tripped me when you stopped and wheeled around directly in my path in order to reach for a forgotten Metro card that was laying on the filth-encrusted subway ground.
You, Mr. Cranky Pants, can't be a day older than 5 and you could already stand to lose 100 pounds, and this makes me sad. Not because you are fat, not because your parents neglect you and pacify your fits with bags of Doritos, but because you are a victim of government subsidized agricultural surpluses that have spawned the barely-edible, non-nutritious, artificially-flavored, waist-band-expanding corporate monoliths that have a quick, cheap, and easy stranglehold on the eating habits of your family, your community's families, and families all over the country.
I am sorry that you have already, at your tender age, been cheated by the money-loving bastards who sit at the top of The Man's fast food empire.
How can Americans sit idly by, professing with the mouths that kiss their mothers that the United States is truly a Democracy, when the conglomerates of the rich and powerful control how the "less fortunate" will eat? How can we still view dripping burgers and fries as fond childhood memories when a growing number of 5-year-olds across the land are sweating in 20-degree weather because of their Happy Meal-induced girth?
I don't know.
But I am on your side, and I forgive your lack of etiquette, Little Discarded Metro Card Enthusiast, because the fates are set very heavily against you. No pun intended.