Flatulent Friday (*toot* excuse me)

Thought for Today: "Cynicism is intellectual dandyism."
— George Meredith, English poet (1828-1909).

Sudiegirl's response: Well, then, is "Dandy" Don Meredith a cynic?








Friday once more raises its head, and life continues to go on. The world keeps turnin', and occasionally, so does my stomach.

OH - before I forget - I'm going to include a new blog in my blogroll, and while I do, please stop by and say hello to OREO! Oreo is a kitty blogger, meaning he's allowed to type (something my cats are not allowed to do...they have to write everything in crayon and then present it to me for final approval). Anyway, Oreo's "kitty mom" is going through a rough time right now so please stop by, read some posts, and say howdy. Tell him Sudiegirl sent you!

Also, I have another wedding gig on Sunday, this time with my small group. The small group consists of me, the guitarist from big band, the drummer from big band, the bass player from the big band, and a mystery guest (sax/clarinet player). Of course, we haven't seen the sax/clarinet player so I'm hoping that he's real and not inflatable. That'd be hard to justify to our customer, especially if he develops a leak.

Finally, the weather sucks like a Hoover today - drizzly, damp, dark...any more "d" words besides dismal and dank? Let me know. Coupled with the two wrecks we saw on the way in to work this morning, I'd say today's a bummer on the outside. So what do I do when that happens? I take a look at the world around me and see if other folks are also bummin'.

First of all, in the "Products I'll NEVER Own" department, I give you Nike+!

Yes - now you too can have running shoes that interact with your iPod. The whole package includes the shoes, a special "sport kit", and an iPod Nano. (Wonder if loan officers are standing by? Can you refinance?)

As if it weren't enough to have your shoes talking to your iPod, you can track each run you do with special software.

You can NAME your runs (I'd probably name my runs "something that will never happen", "Call 911", "Heart Attack Central", or "Fred").

The software and iPod track your time, your calories burned, and your distance. (Well, maybe I can just run back and forth between my papasan and my fridge a thousand times.)

You can even compete against other people. You can hook up with a max of 50 people to compare stats, run as a team, or compete. (Something tells me I'd get my feelings hurt if I pursued that option, but on the bright side, you can alert at least ONE person to call 911.)

The official website logs how many runs are logged by Nike + users, on a national and a world-wide level. It even posts top 10 milestones, (YAY. Now everyone can know what a couch potato I am...actually, is the female equivalent called a "couch potata"?)

Group goals? OH YEAH! You can join up with various charity run events without leaving your hometown. (I'm not going to make fun of this part because these runs are for good causes.)

You can even download "power songs" for your workout! (I must admit, that's good - I know when I was walking more I would listen to Prince a lot. However, I would sing along to his more risque tunes and the neighbors complained. Whoops!)

On the whole though, I would not buy it. I'm too much of a cheap-a** to spend money on something that tells me how inadequate I am. I've got people standing in line for that, and it doesn't cost me a dime. Sorry, Nike.

Next, a new award from Rancho Sudiegirl, Inc., makers of "Chubby Hubby IV Style", when you've gotta have that Ben & Jerry's goodness without the hassle of opening the carton and scooping it out with a spoon.

Today's new award is: the "What Would Marlin Perkins Do?" Award - for questionable situations that arise in the animal kingdom. (Please excuse the artwork - I have yet to even begin to learn Adobe, and MSPaint is all I got at the moment.)

Today's recipients: A certain group of Russian hunt organizers.

Reason: They rigged a bear hunt for King Juan Carlos I of Spain. How did they do this? By getting a tame bear LOADED (as in intoxicated).

To quote the article:

A Russian region has ordered an inquiry into a report that hunt organizers, keen to make the King of Spain's chances of killing a bear easier, provided a tame one drunk on vodka, a regional spokesman said Thursday.

National paper Kommersant carried a letter from Vologda's deputy chief of regional hunting resources management, Sergei Starostin, which accuses hunt organizers of plying a captive bear named "Mitrofan" with vodka-drenched honey and then forcing him from a cage to be shot by Spain's King Juan Carlos I.

Apparently, this is not an unusual activity in Russia. Another quote:

Russian hunt organizers are not complete strangers to such tactics. Keen hunter and former Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev had trouble with his aim in his later years. Some of the animals he liked to stalk were either tied to trees or plied with booze.

Judge's Comments:

OK...we've had enough trouble with alcoholic bears. It's one thing if they party on their own, and another thing if they're tricked. That's kind of - well - sleazy. I know it's not the equivalent of a guy slipping his date a "roofie", but it sure isn't fair play.

Furthermore, if humans have the capability to be "sloppy drunks", "mellow drunks", or "angry drunks" (a la Mel Gibson), doesn't that mean that bears do too? Let's face it - would you want to deal with an angry, drunk bear that could RIP YOUR FACE OFF?

Consider this scenario - say one of the Hair Bear Bunch got drunk. (Shut up - some of you have heard of these obscure Hanna-Barbera characters, I know it...) Let's pick the one with the afro that Daws Butler voiced (pictured at left).

Let's say that Hair Bear went to a party with his compadres. Furthermore, this party's refreshments contained beverages that were "spiked" by someone (the ostrich, perhaps?) and Hair Bear didn't know it. The poor guy was thirsty, so he quaffed a few drinks.

Before you know it, you have a bear that's hanging on to the bar for dear life, or snuggling up to a giraffe and asking said animal if she'd like to go see the submarine races.

Hair Bear is rebuffed by the giraffe, which angers him greatly. Being a bear, he gets physical and starts tearing the place up, then gets in one of those zoo golf carts and starts swerving all over the place.

The zookeepers (Mr. Peevly and his assistant Botch) pull Hair Bear over, then do intox tests on him. He eats their faces off, then goes back to the cave and passes out.

The next day, tabloid reporters are at the door asking him if he remembers blaming all the world's problems on aardvarks, thus aggravating the aardvark community.

So see? Those hunt coordinators should be more careful - they could have an international incident on their hands.

With that, I think I've worn out my welcome here for one more day - I'll come back again, though, so be prepared with pepper spray. Hehehehehe...

Sudiegirl