Category: Unclassified Nonsense

This is a big pile of random crap. That’s right, I said crap.

The movie “Beetle Juice” taught me the following things about ghosts and the afterlife:

• Make sure your method of death leaves your body in a condition which you’d be happy spending eternity.  Here are examples of ways not to die:
  • Being turned to stone by Medusa
  • Being turned to salt by old testament god
  • Being sat on by a fat person
  • Exploding
  • Eaten by cannibals
  • In France
  • Excessive groin damage (all groin damage is excessive)
  • Eaten by French cannibals who use too much salt
• When you die, you can pull you face off for fun.
• Trailer park ghosts are really fun at parties.
• When you die you have to live in your house and wear the same clothes everyday.  I pretty much do that now.
• That was pretty creepy when that old lady made cigarette smoke come out of her neck, wasn’t it?
• Models are haunted.  The more elaborate, the more haunted.
• If you die and don’t like Calypso music, you’re hosed.
• I can understand the hatred of sandworms.  Unless you’re that guy from Dune.  Geena Davis thought she was that guy.
• I’d pay money to see Michael Keaton as Beetle Juice run around in a Batman costume… but that’s just me.
• I think the movie was originally titled, “Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis Are Boring Ghosts So We Added Michael Keaton”
• Saying “Alec Guinness, Alec Guinness, Alec Guinness” didn’t summon anyone.  It also made me question why I chose Alec Guiness to summon in the first place.  Maybe I figured he wouldn’t be busy.
• Winona Ryder as creepy girl, ok.  Winona Ryder as actress, nope.
• I bet Tim Burton’s house looks like the set of Beetle Juice and he has Danny Elfman’s Greatest Hit on replay.
• They need to make a Beetle Juice 2 so that when I do my impression of Beetle Juice they don’t think I’m that dude from Slingblade.
• Dick Cavett and Robert Goulet in the same movie was spoken of in Revelations I think.

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I hate yard work.  I really don’t care what my yard looks like.  I like having one so the dogs can run around, but they don’t care if it’s grass or dirt.  My home owners association (aka Yard Nazis) seem to care so I cut the grass just enough not to get sued.

Cutting the grass is annoying.  To help pass the time, I pretend that my yard is a fancy major league ball park.  Cutting the grass at a stadium seems to have more of a purpose.  But then after I’m finished, no one comes to the stadium (yard) and that seems more of a bummer than just cutting the grass in the first place.

Now I know how the Washington Nationals feel.

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Does the elevator know that when I get on and press the button for my floor a hundred times quickly that I’m in a hurry and want the doors to close immediately or does the elevator think that a hundred are all getting on in rapid succession and all want to go to the same place and it’d better keep the doors open so they can all get in safely.

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A recent piece of spam:

“today I was walking to the grocery store, like always, when I turned down a little shortcut I know through a back alley. I’ve never see anyone before, so I was rather surprised to see a man standing there, with a rather glazed look in his eyes. I walked past him, [spam link deleted], and stuck his teeth into it. I punched him and ran back home, screaming for help. When I finally got home, my arm was bright red, and looks extremely infected.”

First the Russians, now zombies.  My web site has truly arrived.

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From my Russian Spam friends:

“Уважаемый владелец сайта: http://www.posthumorous.org, хочу разместить у вас рекламу, свяжитесь пожалуйста со мной.”

Translated:

“Respected owner of the site: http://www.posthumorous.org, I want to place in you advertisement, be connected if you please with me.”

Why are the Russians trying to place things in me?  No please with you.  No please with you at all. 

At least I’m respected.  That’s good, right?

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