Food Fight, Party of One

I accidentally (but with mild force) flung today’s lunch across my office because I didn’t realize the container lid was loose!

Indian food covers a lot of distance.

There is now okra in the cabinets,

beans under the desk,

yogurt in the carpet (a river of it!),

a raw tomato piece sticking to the wall,

and rice on my shoe.


Show Me the Funny! Or, At Least Stop Crying.

PART I: No, to Answer My Own Question, This Thing Is Not On

So I did an open mic two nights ago that was well near a disaster hamhandedly boiled with a few sprigs of catastrophe. A disastrophe! A cataster! Other words unfit to print come to mind!

It was in a fairly crowded bar/restaurant with the stage way off in the corner so people could easily not notice it (to be fair, it was an expansive space where it was easy to ignore lots of things such as manners and people’s feelings).

There were a couple TVs playing sports footage but muted because the pictures obviously were worth thousands of words alone (mostly curse words if you had asked the comics).

Ooh ooh! Could you feel the impending challenge of performing a free stand up show? It burned.

To liven things up a little more, the stage spotlight wasn’t working so all the lights in the venue were on and everyone was freely conversing willynilly. One man was yelling, but it appeared to be his best approximation of an “indoor voice”.

Once I got onstage, I had to dance a little so people even realized I was a human being, let alone the next performer. I tried to muppet it up a bit, but then, when I was doing fairly mediocre which was my greatest hope for the night, right in the middle of a joke, the microphone abandoned me. As it was a handheld one, the batteries just went ahead and gave out (perhaps the room wasn’t to their taste…I couldn’t blame them).

Speak to me, Mikey!
photo courtesy of Flickr and Professor Rogers

Then there was a riot. Not actually, but it got real awkward real quick.

Someone yelled “Sorry!” from the crowd, and I retorted, “Not as sorry as I am!” which got a hearty, derisive laugh slash some kind of approving verbal fart from the audience.

Then I watched whatever baseball game was playing (mind you, I was still onstage) while they fixed the microphone and then I attempted to finish a set that was sooo over before it even started.

All’s unfair in comedy and tragedy. Such a fine line.

PART II: Ego Booster Seat (So I Can Sit With the Big Kids)

Salutations again, pilgrims, pioneers, and indigenous peoples! New NBC blog is live, so read if you please.

PART III: My Latest Attempt at Style Has Me by the Neck

Also I dressed up in honor of Friday. Sort of. Let me qualify. I am wearing a ridiculous necklace today. I enjoy and appreciate it because it is a jumbly mess like me. It’s like someone dumped a bucket of glue over my neck and then poured a craft basket over that.

And I adore it. Oh do I ever. It’s a homeless shelter for abandoned beads and pendants. Mama loves each and every one of these baubly misfit gewgaws.

PART IV: Since Vice Means Immoral Conduct or Depravity, Vice President Would Mean…? Am I the Only One Who Noticed This Blunder?

I am not going to comment on recent politics, at least not well.

I just would have preferred more WWE stunts in the veep debate (i.e., Mr. Amtrak Record [someone dressed up as the average train] vs. Ms. Baked Alaska [someone dressed up as a mindboggling but quintessential dessert]). Even if the candidates themselves did not execute the acrobatics, they could have had body doubles (even Gwen could have had one, especially because of her foot injury).

This guy could have played someone…I’m sure of it!
photo courtesy of Flickr and Snerkie

Batman-type sound animations such as POW! or BAP! or KER-PLOP! or FLRRBBBB! would have livened things up a bit as well.

photo courtesy of Flickr and Snerkie

Never Say Never

Jenna Jameson just moved and inspired me with some words; I even got that kind of shortness of breath and heart-clenchy feeling.

Ah, the power of holding a microphone. It does wonders!

The Sound of the Plastic Coconut Barreling Through the Plastic Pineapples Is So Sweet…

I have been feeling emotional at work all week, and I was just squeezing out some mid-afternoon tears (sometimes they aren’t logical). And then, like clockwork, it was someone’s birthday. So I went to have some cake (it’s my responsibility).

When I got there, someone said “Tell us a joke!” To which I said, “No.”

But that’s when things got fun.

Someone broke out the pineapple bowling set right in the hallway. Coconut ball (complete with the three-hole grip) and pineapple pins! Straight from Party City! I rolled a respectable 6 out of 10. Though the highest was a clean strike, 10 out of 10. But the memories are forever.

Also someone cut up donuts and put the pieces around the cake. That’s called caring.

This is obscene.
photo courtesy of Flickr and cindlinz

Or at least it is until you look at this…
photo courtesy of Flickr and michellemorley

And let me drop some knowledge before I go. Owl chicks are born already looking pretty wise and worldly! Chick it out!
photo courtesy of Flickr and blue_eiki

Gimme a Break (Room)!

The items that are up for grabs in our office kitchen are getting weirder and weirder.

Today when I entered said kitchen to peel an old, dried up orange, this is the sight that met my eyes (but did not meet them halfway―to be fair to reality):

  • An empty plastic container that, at the prime of its life, used to be full of Biscotti. However the lid was screwed on tight as if to say, “The goodies are gone, but the vessel is still ripe for the pillaging!
  • A basket containing one unopened 6-pack of regular-size Hershey milk chocolate bars, one pint of Half & Half, and some sort of a cleaning/cooking rag. Offensive.
  • Three supersized Pixy Stix. Nobody should consume anything of this size at work. Especially if said item is just concentrated sugar.
  • A small blue bucket full of raw peanuts (still in shells). No. Unacceptable.
  • Sad proof below…

    Giant Pixy Stik up-close:

    Giant Pixy Stik in all its glory: O rly, coworkers?! I know it’s finally Friday, but sheesh. Dropping red flags like these right before the weekend is just unnecessarily cruel.

    Anyway, it’s time to eat my geriatric citrus snack.

    UPDATE!!! The basket with the Half & Half and chocolate were actually not up for the taking! They were just part of a fondue assembly kit, and the basket has since been replaced with a tray of delectable strawberries and raspberries escorted by a earthernware pot of still-warm chocolate goo.

    The raw peanut bucket, however, still remains untouched. (Where did it even come from? Someone’s fever dream that happened to take place at an absurdist baseball game between Team Accounting and Team Sales?)