Okay, so I decided to take a day off from actually writing a blog post to compile a few videos I found on the Internet. Today's topic: CHICKENS. Why? Well, why not?
1) Mike The Headless Chicken:
Okay, this is kinda horrible, but you can't say it's not interesting...
From Wikipedia.org:
"In Fruita, Colorado, on September 10, 1945, farmer Lloyd Olsen was sent out to kill a chicken for dinner. His mother-in-law loved to eat the neck, so Mr. Olsen tried to chop off as little of the neck as possible. With a swing of his axe, off came the head. The chicken – now known as "Mike The Headless Chicken" – started to run around as chickens do, but never stopped.
Mike The Headless Chicken became famous and began doing tours. Mr. Olsen charged 25¢.
Mike was fed a mixture of water and milk with an eyedropper, and occasionally he was fed corn.
Mike finally died in 1947, after living for 18 months. He started choking in the middle of the night, and since the Olsens left the syringes they used to clear his esophagus at the sideshow, they could not save him."
(Source: thelongestlistofthelongeststuffatthelongestdomainnameatlonglast.com)
2) The Great Gonzo And His Chickens Perform "The Blue Danube Waltz":
Now, if this doesn't get into your head for the next few hours, you may have short-term memory loss! And if you don't at least smile once or twice, you might want to get your sense of humor checked the next time you're at the doctor's.
(Source: youtube.com)
3) "Flickin' Chicken" Rubber Chicken-Tossing Game:
I actually had to write a product description for this game a while back, since it's something our company sells online. Believe it or not, it's a real game. And believe it or not, I would never ever play it. (Unless it was given to me as a gift, in which case it would be an insult to refuse.)
(Source: youtube.com)
4) Gene Burnett -- "The Free Range Chicken Song"
So...this may be even weirder and more disturbing than "Mike The Headless Chicken". I would say "Enjoy!", but I don't really think you will. So I'll just say: Here it is...
(Source: youtube.com)
Showing posts with label crazy people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crazy people. Show all posts
Friday, January 6, 2012
Monday, May 23, 2011
Extreme Couponing And The End Of The World
WARNING: The following paragraphs may contain subject matter that some of you whom I consider my friends may find offensive. Please note that this is not a personal attack on you, merely a diatribe on a current consumer trend which slightly bothers me...to say the very least. Reader discretion is advised.
It's the end of the world as we know it...and I'm a little ticked. No, I'm not talking about Harold Camping and his huge "miscalculation" (again) regarding the beginning of the end of time, which did not occur this past Saturday (and who is now conveniently unavailable for comment by all accounts). I'm talking about this extreme couponing fad that's spreading like juicy gossip in a beauty salon.
Now I'm all for saving money, that's all well and good. I will even go so far as to say that I applaud the efforts of all you couponers (by the way, since when did "couponer" become a word, and since when is "coupon" also a verb? – but I digress) who diligently pore over websites and newspaper ads and dark, secluded alleys, or wherever else y'all dig these things up, in order to save beaucoup bucks. I really don't mind these things at all. To each his or her own.
What I do mind is the apocalyptic chaos that ensues when foolhardy grocery store chains decide to make an entire week "Triple Coupon Day" and not tell poor saps like myself in advance! Now, I know what you're thinking – I could have, and should have, read the sign on the door before entering the store, and should have run as fast as Usain Bolt in the opposite direction in order to spare my sanity. And I would agree with you – but I didn't look; I wasn't paying attention to such details.
I was looking forward to my usual, quiet during-my-Monday-lunch-break shopping trip, a system that works for me and my wife, since she works in another county, and often gets home later than I do. What I found instead, upon entering the store, was wall-to-wall shopping carts being pushed around by – my apologies to all you sane female and male couponers here – CRAZY LADIES, with honest-to-goodness three-ring binders full of coupons, which I can only assume must have been alphabetized by the item's name for each and every row of the grocery store, judging by the methodical nature in which each lady pored over her binder.
Side note here: I'm not criticizing the methodology of this. If you're going to do something like this, you should do it wholeheartedly, and with some degree of organization, as would I if I were so inclined (it'll never happen!).
Here I am with my pitiful little grocery list – filled out by hand on a printout of a Microsoft Word template that I found years ago – trying my best to get my deli ham, toothpaste, coffee creamer, etc. And I'm having to, literally, fight my way through each aisle of the store to get to what I'm looking for. I'm not looking for any particular brand, I don't have to buy four of anything, I'm just picking up whatever brand is on sale. I really don't give a rat's patooty what I COULD BE saving if I put forth a little effort. No, this closet claustrophobic is just doing my best to tamp down the rising anxiety of simply moving through the store.
Finally, I got everything on the list, not a single "extra" thing, which befuddles my wife, but maybe makes her a little proud as well; I'm not sure. And then I head to the checkout line. Oh my word, I'm thinking, I have twenty-four minutes to get through this line, get across town back to the house, unload the groceries, and get back to work. This is never going to happen. Each open line, and there are far too few of them for "Triple Coupon Day" Week, has at least four people waiting, nearly all of them with full-to-the-brim shopping carts. And nearly half of the people in line stand proudly with their 40+ coupons in hand, ready to save LOTS and LOTS of money. I groan inwardly – strike that, I groan outwardly. Quite loudly. People in front of and behind me probably think they are in the presence of a mooing cow, my groan is that outward.
Running out of options and time, I find a line with only one couponer, and she's already checking out. Five minutes or so later, I'm done and out the door. I empty the contents of my cart into the trunk of the car as quickly as possible, being mindful that I don't break the eggs or smash the chicken, and head over toward the shopping cart docking station. Similarly to the store, the parking lot is also wall-to-wall with cars, and some of these people can't park worth a lick. So I'm – once again the panicky claustrophobic – trying to squeeze this empty cart between parked cars to get to the docking station without nicking anyone's side mirror or paint job.
I finally arrive, only to realize that I am on the back side of the docking station, and there's no getting around to the other side due to the close proximity of the cars (probably some of those crazy couponers, so excited to have arrived at the grocery store so they could SAVE MONEY that they didn't bother to notice that their minivan was as crooked as a politician in an election year).
Now running severely short on time and patience, I lift the entire empty shopping cart over the rail and slam it down inside the docking station. It bounces a little, but doesn't roll out. My back twinges a little, but I feel good. There's nothing like throwing a shopping cart to let off a little steam. You should try it sometime.
Twenty-five minutes later, and twenty minutes after I'm supposed to have returned, I arrive back at work, safe and sound, and not much worse for wear.
What's the moral of this story? There isn't one. This was just a straight-up rant. And I'm okay with that. If you were offended by this, I'm truly sorry. If you laughed a little, because maybe you saw a little of yourself somewhere, or because you didn't know I was half-crazy myself, then my work here is done.
And for all you couponers out there who may be reading this: Help a brother out and let me know when this stuff is going on ahead of time, so I won't have to throw another shopping cart. I just might begin to enjoy it TOO much!
It's the end of the world as we know it...and I'm a little ticked. No, I'm not talking about Harold Camping and his huge "miscalculation" (again) regarding the beginning of the end of time, which did not occur this past Saturday (and who is now conveniently unavailable for comment by all accounts). I'm talking about this extreme couponing fad that's spreading like juicy gossip in a beauty salon.
Now I'm all for saving money, that's all well and good. I will even go so far as to say that I applaud the efforts of all you couponers (by the way, since when did "couponer" become a word, and since when is "coupon" also a verb? – but I digress) who diligently pore over websites and newspaper ads and dark, secluded alleys, or wherever else y'all dig these things up, in order to save beaucoup bucks. I really don't mind these things at all. To each his or her own.
What I do mind is the apocalyptic chaos that ensues when foolhardy grocery store chains decide to make an entire week "Triple Coupon Day" and not tell poor saps like myself in advance! Now, I know what you're thinking – I could have, and should have, read the sign on the door before entering the store, and should have run as fast as Usain Bolt in the opposite direction in order to spare my sanity. And I would agree with you – but I didn't look; I wasn't paying attention to such details.
I was looking forward to my usual, quiet during-my-Monday-lunch-break shopping trip, a system that works for me and my wife, since she works in another county, and often gets home later than I do. What I found instead, upon entering the store, was wall-to-wall shopping carts being pushed around by – my apologies to all you sane female and male couponers here – CRAZY LADIES, with honest-to-goodness three-ring binders full of coupons, which I can only assume must have been alphabetized by the item's name for each and every row of the grocery store, judging by the methodical nature in which each lady pored over her binder.
Side note here: I'm not criticizing the methodology of this. If you're going to do something like this, you should do it wholeheartedly, and with some degree of organization, as would I if I were so inclined (it'll never happen!).
Here I am with my pitiful little grocery list – filled out by hand on a printout of a Microsoft Word template that I found years ago – trying my best to get my deli ham, toothpaste, coffee creamer, etc. And I'm having to, literally, fight my way through each aisle of the store to get to what I'm looking for. I'm not looking for any particular brand, I don't have to buy four of anything, I'm just picking up whatever brand is on sale. I really don't give a rat's patooty what I COULD BE saving if I put forth a little effort. No, this closet claustrophobic is just doing my best to tamp down the rising anxiety of simply moving through the store.
Finally, I got everything on the list, not a single "extra" thing, which befuddles my wife, but maybe makes her a little proud as well; I'm not sure. And then I head to the checkout line. Oh my word, I'm thinking, I have twenty-four minutes to get through this line, get across town back to the house, unload the groceries, and get back to work. This is never going to happen. Each open line, and there are far too few of them for "Triple Coupon Day" Week, has at least four people waiting, nearly all of them with full-to-the-brim shopping carts. And nearly half of the people in line stand proudly with their 40+ coupons in hand, ready to save LOTS and LOTS of money. I groan inwardly – strike that, I groan outwardly. Quite loudly. People in front of and behind me probably think they are in the presence of a mooing cow, my groan is that outward.
Running out of options and time, I find a line with only one couponer, and she's already checking out. Five minutes or so later, I'm done and out the door. I empty the contents of my cart into the trunk of the car as quickly as possible, being mindful that I don't break the eggs or smash the chicken, and head over toward the shopping cart docking station. Similarly to the store, the parking lot is also wall-to-wall with cars, and some of these people can't park worth a lick. So I'm – once again the panicky claustrophobic – trying to squeeze this empty cart between parked cars to get to the docking station without nicking anyone's side mirror or paint job.
I finally arrive, only to realize that I am on the back side of the docking station, and there's no getting around to the other side due to the close proximity of the cars (probably some of those crazy couponers, so excited to have arrived at the grocery store so they could SAVE MONEY that they didn't bother to notice that their minivan was as crooked as a politician in an election year).
Now running severely short on time and patience, I lift the entire empty shopping cart over the rail and slam it down inside the docking station. It bounces a little, but doesn't roll out. My back twinges a little, but I feel good. There's nothing like throwing a shopping cart to let off a little steam. You should try it sometime.
Twenty-five minutes later, and twenty minutes after I'm supposed to have returned, I arrive back at work, safe and sound, and not much worse for wear.
What's the moral of this story? There isn't one. This was just a straight-up rant. And I'm okay with that. If you were offended by this, I'm truly sorry. If you laughed a little, because maybe you saw a little of yourself somewhere, or because you didn't know I was half-crazy myself, then my work here is done.
And for all you couponers out there who may be reading this: Help a brother out and let me know when this stuff is going on ahead of time, so I won't have to throw another shopping cart. I just might begin to enjoy it TOO much!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Dear Elderly Man Riding A Shopping Cart Like A Skateboard...
Dear Elderly Man Riding A Shopping Cart Like A Skateboard,
Saw you in Harris Teeter last night, doing your thing.
Was wondering what you were up to when you jogged to the front of the store, seemingly in quite a hurry.
Thought it a little odd when you passed by me again, having fetched a shopping cart, still jogging while pushing the cart along at a pretty good pace in front of you. I actually had to cut right quickly to avoid being grocery store roadkill.
But what really got me was when you came barreling down the frozen foods aisle, quite literally kicking off with your back foot, your front foot on the bottom rack of the cart, then stepped up fully onto the rack, and zoomed the full length of the aisle at breakneck speed. I nodded politely at you as you passed but I don't think you noticed. You were pretty engrossed in the task at hand.
By the way, that was a deft evasive maneuver, veering left just as that mom was approaching with her two rambunctious boys. I think you really got their attention.
Just wanted to drop you a quick line to say I admire your chutzpah in attempting to recapture your childhood in a crowded supermarket – I would never have the nerve to actually go through with it.
Or, if it wasn't that, and you were just crazy or something, I admire your unabashed lunacy – I only do weird stuff like that when nobody is looking. Or when I'm in a foreign country. Like the time...well, never mind.
Anyway, I sincerely hope you were able to find everything you were looking for last night. Whatever that was. And hopefully I'll see you in there again sometime. It was, shall we say, an experience!
Regards,
A Bemused Bystander
Saw you in Harris Teeter last night, doing your thing.
Was wondering what you were up to when you jogged to the front of the store, seemingly in quite a hurry.
Thought it a little odd when you passed by me again, having fetched a shopping cart, still jogging while pushing the cart along at a pretty good pace in front of you. I actually had to cut right quickly to avoid being grocery store roadkill.
But what really got me was when you came barreling down the frozen foods aisle, quite literally kicking off with your back foot, your front foot on the bottom rack of the cart, then stepped up fully onto the rack, and zoomed the full length of the aisle at breakneck speed. I nodded politely at you as you passed but I don't think you noticed. You were pretty engrossed in the task at hand.
By the way, that was a deft evasive maneuver, veering left just as that mom was approaching with her two rambunctious boys. I think you really got their attention.
Just wanted to drop you a quick line to say I admire your chutzpah in attempting to recapture your childhood in a crowded supermarket – I would never have the nerve to actually go through with it.
Or, if it wasn't that, and you were just crazy or something, I admire your unabashed lunacy – I only do weird stuff like that when nobody is looking. Or when I'm in a foreign country. Like the time...well, never mind.
Anyway, I sincerely hope you were able to find everything you were looking for last night. Whatever that was. And hopefully I'll see you in there again sometime. It was, shall we say, an experience!
Regards,
A Bemused Bystander
Friday, March 4, 2011
Too Short To Ride The Roller Coaster
I'm sure you've all seen the signs that go something like this:
YOU MUST BE ____" TALL TO RIDE THIS ROLLER COASTER.
Well, sometimes I feel like I'm head and shoulders above that line and am prepared for any dips, turns, and spins that roller coaster may throw at me. Other days, I'm just shy of the qualifying height, and am content – dare I say, relieved – to be sitting on the sidelines and watching all those poor suckers blow chunks on the folks behind them.
(Okay, maybe that was a little gross, but I'm a guy...give me a break!)
What am I talking about, you ask? Good question.
Sometimes you see something coming that you aren't able to avoid, and yet you still find yourself ready to meet that challenge head on, come what may. Other times, you see trouble coming and you want to tuck tail and run the other way. I'm having one of those "tuck tail" days.
The more reliable of our two unreliable vehicles went into the shop yesterday, with both Mary and I expecting the worst. Turns out, it wasn't as bad as we expected. Just a busted alternator. I say "just" like getting it fixed didn't cost money – it did. But it could have been worse. We both breathed a huge sigh of relief. That is, until – on the way home from the auto shop – our other, older, and much less reliable vehicle decided that this would be an ideal time to show signs that its alternator was also on the fast track to busted! If you ask me, I think it's a sibling rivalry thing. Or that our imported car was jealous that the domestic van got to take a field trip to the shop, and it wanted to go too. I don't know, I'm probably over-thinking this whole thing.
Regardless, now we have to take the other car in to get it fixed. Of course, the tax refund check was just direct-deposited into our bank account this week! Of course it was – that's when things always fall apart, right?
So, just a heads-up here: if you see me running down Arlington Boulevard (that's in G-Vegas for all you out-of-towners), and if I'm screaming like a banshee, and looking more than a little crazy, just smile and wave and keep on driving. Maybe I'll be tall enough for the roller coaster next week.
ADDENDUM:
Turns out I spoke too soon about the van - Mr. Reliable that it thinks itself to be - about it being "all better now" and all that jazz. The check engine light decided to make an encore appearance just as Mary was pulling into our driveway. Problem UN-solved!
YOU MUST BE ____" TALL TO RIDE THIS ROLLER COASTER.
Well, sometimes I feel like I'm head and shoulders above that line and am prepared for any dips, turns, and spins that roller coaster may throw at me. Other days, I'm just shy of the qualifying height, and am content – dare I say, relieved – to be sitting on the sidelines and watching all those poor suckers blow chunks on the folks behind them.
(Okay, maybe that was a little gross, but I'm a guy...give me a break!)
What am I talking about, you ask? Good question.
Sometimes you see something coming that you aren't able to avoid, and yet you still find yourself ready to meet that challenge head on, come what may. Other times, you see trouble coming and you want to tuck tail and run the other way. I'm having one of those "tuck tail" days.
The more reliable of our two unreliable vehicles went into the shop yesterday, with both Mary and I expecting the worst. Turns out, it wasn't as bad as we expected. Just a busted alternator. I say "just" like getting it fixed didn't cost money – it did. But it could have been worse. We both breathed a huge sigh of relief. That is, until – on the way home from the auto shop – our other, older, and much less reliable vehicle decided that this would be an ideal time to show signs that its alternator was also on the fast track to busted! If you ask me, I think it's a sibling rivalry thing. Or that our imported car was jealous that the domestic van got to take a field trip to the shop, and it wanted to go too. I don't know, I'm probably over-thinking this whole thing.
Regardless, now we have to take the other car in to get it fixed. Of course, the tax refund check was just direct-deposited into our bank account this week! Of course it was – that's when things always fall apart, right?
So, just a heads-up here: if you see me running down Arlington Boulevard (that's in G-Vegas for all you out-of-towners), and if I'm screaming like a banshee, and looking more than a little crazy, just smile and wave and keep on driving. Maybe I'll be tall enough for the roller coaster next week.
ADDENDUM:
Turns out I spoke too soon about the van - Mr. Reliable that it thinks itself to be - about it being "all better now" and all that jazz. The check engine light decided to make an encore appearance just as Mary was pulling into our driveway. Problem UN-solved!
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