Nothing is funnier than my own jokes...

Knock knock.

Who's there?

A new poll.

A new poll who?

A new poll? It's about time, you lazy piece of flying poo.

Act Now and We'll Throw in Our First Born!

Rarely, have I gotten junk mail that is so completely desperate for my approval. I mean, sure, I get called by UltimateSingles.com all the time telling me that I can speak to my dream man if I call them back right away (joke's on them-- I already know he doesn't exist!), but this mailer from (and I honestly feel obliged to link to them here) Working Assets is the most plaintive piece of mail ever. I mean, first of all, you could see a nickel through the window of the envelope. So they gave me a nickel. Aside from the nickel, I also got: a nice pad for phone messages and address labels, all free. Here is the really sad part. At the bottom of the note pad, it says "Get FREE Ice cream when you sign up!"

For God's sake people-- keep your dignity. What bin am I supposed to put that in when I go to recycle your crap?

I mean, I like ice cream as much as the next man, Lt. Dan, but geez--they're going to go bankrupt from a single mailer, much in the same vein as Tilex who is attaching a free "energizing cd" (a la Pure Moods) to every bottle of Tilex Daily Shower Cleaner.

And we wonder why the market is bad. Grrr....

More stuff I know...

The rules governing right of way do not spontaneosly change because:
--a traffic light is broken and despite becoming what the civilized world calls a four way stop, you believe the universe spirals towards entropy
--you are talking on your cell phone
--you are driving an SUV
corrollary: you are driving a more expensive/ostentatious vehicle
--you never bothered to learn about right of way
--you are exceptionally stupid (see above)
--you are in a hurry
--and more...!

Stuff I know

The quality of a song on the radio is inversely proportional to its length. This explains why Genesis continued playing on the Point, despite the fact that I had listened to three entire songs on other stations before flipping back.

Phil Collins--I'm looking at you.

The Matrix, Imploded

For those of you who have yet to see the second Matrix movie, I have no plans for a spoiler in this blog, except to say: might want to hang on to your money.

Granted, like the first movie, there was totally rad kung fu action, but the special effects tried so little to be convincing that half the time, it was like watching a live-action nintendo game. No, seriously. We were like-- when did Keanu become so pixelated and Final Fantasy-esque? It got worse when the "kung fu" more closely mimicked the nimble jumping of Donkey Kong. Nintendo lives! Of course, Donkey Kong progressed into a West Side Story sinkhole and my friends and I were expecting jazz hands to break out at any time, not to mention the rival gangs. "Mr Anderson, when you're a jet, you're a jet all the way!"

Another problem with this movie: Keanu ass. That's right. Gratuitous sex abounds. The only ass I want to see in the Matrix is the one that is getting kicked. I paid for violence for God's sake, not this lovey-dovey right out of Star Wars Episode II dialogue b.s.--gag. "I just love you too damn much, Trinity." That's great Keanu, but if you could just stick to lines like "Whoa!" and "I know kung fu," we'd all appreciate it.

In summary: I know you're going to see it anyway. I would too, but umm, it's disappointing, so have something to look forward to afterwards: like ice cream, or Super Troopers ("Who wants a mustache ride?!").

And I thank you.

I'm not too proud...

to admit that I still think chicken nuggets + macaroni and cheese is an A+ meal.

Does anyone sell "No Thank You" notes?

As many of you know, I recently graduated from college, and in doing so, have become a dump site for all the useless crap people have that they want to get rid of, wrap, and get a thank you note out of.

I know-- that's totally harsh. But sorry to say, it's true. Granted, I have been the recipient of some excellent, thoughtful and appropriate gifts, gift certificates, and best of all: money, but upon receiving half the gifts graciously as if to say "How did you know? I exactly wanted this random bauble!" I was actually thinking: "Jesus H! Am I going to have to move this someday? Ugh. There goes $.37."

If you sent me a present and you are reading this, I totally loved yours.

Unless you gave me the tin Chilean key holder in which case I know you are not reading this and I also want to say: WTF?!

P.S. The moral of this story is: I won't like you less if you just send a thoughtful card, but especially if that card contains a large check. In fact, I will admore your foresight and thoughtfulness in keeping my house crap-free.

You're funny, BUTT

Something this classy definitely requires cross-posting. See it again at The Council of Elders.

This is one of the photos from my graduation party this weekend (which was not an orgy, incidentally), for which I was running around like a chicken sans head. Now I will be back to my regularly scheduled blogging. I hope.



Somehow extreme face close-ups progressed to this, courtesy of my friends. They are awesome, by the way.

Please act your age, not mine.

An open letter to creepy old dudes:

I don't care if you have a porsche.
I don't care if you look twenty years younger than you are. If I were twenty years younger than I am, I'd be a toddler, which would make you the height of grossy.
I don't care if you think women your own age don't "get" you. I don't get you either.
I don't care if you're on all kinds of viagra. (Eeew, by the way.)

I am not interested in you romantically, so please do not:
Touch me. Ever.
Make suggestive comments, flirty eye contact, or give me the pez (nod head upward once).
Anything else that my grandfather wouldn't do.

And we'll get along just fine.

Note to Self

Not every boyfriend I have is going to actively avoid my blog, like J.
And I never even said anything mean about him. Curses. J/k.

So now: be sweet.

And that goes double for you. So there.

MaryT Goes Soft

A little note about French-Roast and some FAQ:
Let's keep it nice here, folks and not run off the good ones, eh? In the future, I will only post mean-spirited jest about people I actively dislike.

Is MaryT really this bitter?
Yes and no. I speak evil, but I do not always mean it. I like to be funny, but there's no good reason to hurt someone you love. Hence the disclaimer: I *used* to be funny. Now I'm just a big softy.

Does Chickyboom really exist?
You better believe it, Mister/Missy.

Was X-Men 2 kind of the most awesome movie of recent times?
Oh-ho! YEAH!

Come children! Have some candy!

People who live in Houston always invite friends to come and visit them around this time of year, in hopes that their friends will be bowled over by the honeysuckle smell that pervades the entire city, the abundance of bustling outdoor cafes, the azaleas in bloom and the general thrill of spring that makes the city hop for a few special weeks. These bowled over friends may even sign leases and prepare for the big move to Houston.

June comes and shit goes down. If you want to keep your out-of-town friends, best not to lie. :) It's gonna be hotter than a bitch here in like...ten minutes. Dress accordingly.