the one about the british history magazine

Category: weekleez

the one about the british history magazine
February 06, 2001

hi guys, once again it’s tuesday, and once again i’m sitting here wondering just what on earth i’m going to rant about this week.

well, first things first. i promised rowan (the only australian type person on my list) that i’d pass this reply along. apparently i did a bad thing with the whole playpus-bashing.

As probably one of the few (the only?) Australians on Jaimie’s list, I feel I have to protest against this so-called misrepresentation of the platypus. (And as Jaimie knows full well that the platypus is my favourite native animal, she should’ve expected this.)

Anyway, it is a Proven Fact that all normal Australian children learn about the platypus in full, uncensored detail in primary school. I remember being made to watch videos when I was seven, devoted entirely to the study of monotremes (platypi and echidnas, etc) and narrated by the Australian equivalents of David Attenborough.

More tidy little facts for you to treasure:

– Only the males are poisonous.
– There are zero (0) known human deaths by platypus to date.
– Despite how big they look on a television, they’re so little you could pick them up in one hand.
– They are adorable, shy and loving creatures. *sigh* I could just hug them.

Conclusion: The only reason I can come up with to account for Jaimie’s sad ignorance is the shocking state of the US education system.

Rowan
Platypus Devotee and Genuine Australian

thank you rowan for having the GUTS to stand up for what you believe in. i for one, have stopped believing in platypi and the u.s. education system.

on with the weekly.
look, i can’t think of anything to write about. and you know what that means. i have to resort to other people’s material. well, it’s either that or make fun of the British. i’ll just do both.

i have, for some reason, a copy of British History Illustrated. It’s the june/july 1979 issue of the magazine.
ok, stop laughing.
look, i don’t KNOW why such a magazine exists.
no, i HAVE NO IDEA where i got it.
of course i’m not a subscriber!

so i was flipping through the old rag and i noticed that it had, like all other magazines, a section dedicated to letters to the editor. so i read a few. oh my gosh, they were hilarious, and i’ll tell you why. they are so polite. it’s like watching parliament on tv. oh, come on. you’ve never watched parliament? it’s a gas. old men yell back and forth all the while refering to each other as “the right honorable gentleman” while some lady in a huge wooden chair screams, “ORDAH, ORDAH!”
ok. so maybe it’s not your cup of tea. anyway here’s one of the letters,

“Dear Sir, There is one aspect of your otherwise excellent publication which I find jarring and, if I may be so bold, I would like to suggest that you consider changing. While obviously the economics of your publication require the acceptance of advertisements, the placement of these commercial messages among the pages of text is distasteful. Recognizing that advertisers like to have their messages on or opposite pages of text, nevertheless, you lose some dignity by so doing. May I respectfully suggest that you take a leaf from the “National Geographic” and place them at either the front or back of the magazine, or both, action which would, I submit, greatly improve your format and enhance the appearance.”

and yet another,

“Dear Sir, I do wish that it could be arranged to keep advertising matter out of the body of the magazine and confine it to the end papers, but then I suppose that your advertisers have a say in this and they must be considered.”
(did you notice how that guy answered his own complaint?)

the editors then replied with this,

“we are afraid that we often have to walk the knife-edge of reader-disapproval and advertising income.”

those editors are a bunch of pansies.

so then i’m curious and i look at every page of this “otherwise excellent publication” and i only found two (2) ads within the pages of that magazine. two ads! they’re complaining about two measley ads? wow. if only life were so horrible.

i wonder if either of those two right honorable gentlemen have read the National Geographic lately? well, i have. and buddy, there’s more than two ads within the pages of that thing.

apparently that magazine also has a motto or creed, for at the top of the first page, right above the table of contents there’s a crest of some sort and then there’s this,

No part of our globe, no individual living on it, but is affected in some way by the history and genius of the British Nation

that sentence doesn’t sound right, does it? it’s like there’s two different thoughts going on and they’re joined by a conjuction that doesn’t conjuct. or something. hey! it’s like reading the weekly! it’s confusing and profound thus making you read it twice only to find out that it’s completely self-congratulatory! i need one of those!

or maybe….i need TEN OF THOSE!!!

so here’s my list of ten (10) confusing sentences that could be the creed of the weekly.

10. we renounce the use of capitalization only to conform to most other rules of grammar. sometimes.
9. we promise to never complete a thought, even if it still makes sense.
8. in theory, no part of the globe is safe from the weekly. we promise.
7. no standard will be upheld or downheld with which what else would we hold onto?
6. if not for the weekly, there would always be a number 6.
5. in the face of adversity we rise to subverse the perverse only to reverse that first act and then proceed to knock down the wall of intolerance, injustice, and of course, the spanish armada!
4. the truth is stranger than fiction but both are more well written than the weekly.
3. in cases of emergency, we dare to break the glass, even if there is no emergency. we just like to break glass. that’s our promise to you.
2. serving over 90 persons weekly. and yes, you should be scared.
1. MY HEAD’s BEEN SEWN TO THE CARPET!!

yikes, did you notice how i kept using the pronoun “we”? scary.

ok, now it’s your turn. i haven’t challenged you guys in a while so this should really come to no surprise. why don’t you guys come up with a strange motto for the weekly? you don’t have to send in ten of them. one will do. actually half of one would work.

i’ll post any of them i get in next week’s episode. until then…try not to get your head sewn to the carpet.

jaimie “but is affected in some way” pickle

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the one about the platypus

Category: weekleez

the one about the platypus
jaunary 30, 2001

i suppose this one should be called “the one about the platypus”

i was talking to my brother, “justin “itlon” pickle itlon and john “king of the ground squirrel” diener the other day and as always the conversation turned to the platypus. and one of them happens to mention that the platypus has a hook filled with venom on its back leg. thus making our enigmatic duckbilled platypus a venomous mammal.

i was shocked.

i don’t know how… in all my twenty three years… i had missed something as important as that. i didn’t even know there WERE venomous mammals. it’s not like i ever see platypi or anything. however, i never figured them for venomous creatures.

they never teach you that in school. it’s always a “silly” animal. “ah,” the teacher would say, “the duckbilled platypus, it’s one of god’s little mistakes, ha ha. it’s a beaver with a bill and duck feet, and it has fur like a mammal. it lays eggs and walks like a reptile. isn’t that a funny animal?”

i mean, isn’t that kind of like describing a rattlesnake like this, “a rattlesnake is a cold-blooded reptile which sheds its skin. its has beautiful ringed markings along its back. an interesting feature of the rattlesnake is the rattle on the end of its tail, which rattles when the poor little snake feels threatened.” you see, leaving out the part about fangs, venom, and striking distance is sort of a misleading representation of the animal.

like bugs for example, you learn about the “hideousness” of spiders. it’s always, “the evil spider sucks the juices from its prey.” and “the black widow is poisonous! it’ll kill you! don’t touch!” but did your biology professor ever warn you of the gruesome pain that awaits if you happen to stumble upon a platypus? hmm? oh sure, the female praying mantis kills and eats her mate, but what about your overloaded pain receptor neurons that have gone into shock because you reached down to pet that cute platypus? well you can thank Dr. “i’m also the basketball coach” for that one.

but see, the platypus is funny looking, therefore you never really hear about its true nature and anatomy. it’s cute, how could it possibly be dangerous? it’s like the “trouble with tribbles” sham. “aw, how cute….i think i’ll…..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz” i’m not making any sense am i?

so the next time you and your buddies are sitting around and the platypus comes up in your conversation (as is prone to happen) and you hear one of your misinformed commrades say, “isn’t the platypus a funny looking animal?” well, that’s when you should emphatically say, “funny looking?! my god man, have you lost your mind? not only are they nasty, nocturnal, bottom feeders, but they have a venomous hook on their back legs and wouldn’t think twice about nailing you with it and causing you pain beyond what your brain is capable of comprehending! of course, if that’s your idea of funny looking, then by all means, the platypus is a funny looking animal.”

i find that over-reacting is ten (10) times more funny than just plain old reacting. which is odd because i subscribe to the whole “act, don’t react” philosophy of action. however, when mere “acting” is too hard i think it’s best to over-react, that way you get your point across. did i mention its funnier?

so i did a bit of research (as always. i’m way too curious to just let the subject of poisonous mammals fade away) on venomous mammals and would you believe that there are three (3) such animals?

1. platypus
2. echidna
3. a couple of shrews

now i’m not too concerned about these venomous beasts, mainly because they all live in australia (and everyone knows that ozland is home to most of the world’s poisonous/dangerous/ferocious/funny looking animals) HOWEVER, while i was searching the Shrew Talk newsletter (which is about as interesting as reading the instructions that came with your toaster) i read that there are poisonous shrews here in the US. and let me tell you, i can sleep well tonight knowing that the danger-shrews have only been found in arizona. but, uh, i’m certain that if you live in arizona you’re more concerned with dying in a desert wasteland than being nibbled on by a poisonous shrew. i know i would.

and as far as the echidna is concerned, well, i had no idea what it was. i kept thinking it was some kind of half woman half snake myth. turns out, they’re real, only it’s not an evil snake-nymph at all. it’s actually a spiny anteater. go figure.

well, i suppose i’ve rambled enough. although i do feel a need to pass along some other information to you that i’ve learned recently as i’m sure it may come in handy for you.

1. giraffes breathe fire
2. the common ground squirrel has a guided missle device
3. wild boar are made up of interchangeable parts
4. the echidna is “a female monster consisting of half nymph, half speckled snake. It lived in a cave coming out to snatch up and eat those passing. The critter was ageless but, not immortal. It was killed by argus panoptes while sleeping. It mated frequently with typhoeus producing a variety of offspring.”
5.even so is a band that is giving a FREE concert on feb. 16 at vineyard gadsden (421 broad street) so be there or be sorry.

next week’s episode: itlon, the missing years. itlon

jaimie “itlon i bet you’re wondering what itlon is. itlon” pickle

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the one about the five (5) stages of grief

Category: weekleez

the one about the five (5) stages of grief
tuesday, january 23, 2001

yep, it’s tuesday.

so you’ve probably heard of the five (5) stages of grief, right? i think it’s something like,

1. shock
2. denial
3. anger
4. depression
5. acceptance

ok, i didn’t make those up and i don’t necessarily endorse that process in any way. i mean, acceptance? that’s the last step? gimmie a break. i accept a lot of things…. but only because i have to.

i ACCEPT that FICA gets a ton of my money. but i don’t LIKE it. and i would hope that at the end of any sort of psy-process (i have no idea if that’s a real term, but it sounds like i know what i’m talking about doesn’t it? riiiiight) that the processor (the one grieving) would have a better outcome than just acceptance. but what do i know? i’m just a lowly sign maker. (a la west “bye” finlayson).

but i’m not here to talk about any sort of REAL psychological stages, processes, matrices, or the like. nay, where’s the fun in that? instead i think these stages could be used in other instances and never for grief.

five stages of looking on the ‘net for real information.
ok, you’re a student. you’ve got to write that paper. it’s due tomorrow. your topic is the yearly average rainfall in the amazon basin over the last twenty (20) years and it’s steady drop and its effect on the surrounding wildlife. so of course you check the internet. and yahoo only found one page for you and the summary for that page is perfect. you need that page. you click that magic link.

ERROR 404 FILE NOT FOUND.

1. shock. “WHAT?!”
2. denial. “stupid link. i’ll type the address myself.”
3. anger. “WHERE is that #^%&@!! page?! WHY have a link if it DOESN’T exist?! ARG!”
4. depression. “oh my god, it’s due tomorrow….”
5. acceptance. “mom! i’ll be at the library.”

five stages of checking your email from your ISP server.

let’s assume (uh oh) that you’ve logged on. you’ve been surfing and now you want to check your email. you get an error message.

1. shock. “where’s my email? error? huh?”
2. denial. “i know i typed my password. its gotta be their problem.”
3. anger. “stupid jerks! that IS my user name! that IS my password! i’m LOGGED ON for crying out loud! where is my email?!”
4. depression. “gosh, i wonder if anyone sent me anything good today. aw man, its tuesday…. i missed the weekly…”
5. acceptance. “guess i’ll try again tomorrow.” meanwhile you go and pay your bills and one of them is probably to your lame ISP.

five stages of your car not starting.

1. shock. “whoa, my car won’t start.”
2. denial. “maybe if i turn the key harder…” “i’ll try giving it more gas…” “maybe i gave it too much gas…i’ll wait for a few minutes and try again….”
3. anger. there’s probably a lot of swear words in this step.
4. more anger. there’s more swear words in this step followed by a brief depression when you find out how much it’s gonna cost to get that damn car fixed, and then more anger.
5. acceptance. you give the mechanic your paycheck.

five stages of discovering they no longer make/sell your favorite flavor of ice cream, candy, rice, etc.

1. shock. “hey! where’s my rice?”
2. denial. you check behind the other boxes of rice because you know it’s there. it’s always been there.
3. anger. “ican’tbelieveit! what do you MEAN they don’t make that flavor anymore?! that makes no sense! i bought it every week!”
4. more denial. “maybe they’ll have it next week…they’re probably just out of it this week.”
5. depression. “…and it was such a great flavor too.”
6. acceptance. “well, maybe there’s a different brand….of course, it won’t taste as good…” and you buy it anyway.

and finally,

five stages of waking up and finding your head has been sewn to the carpet.

1. shock. “OH MY GOD MY HEAD IS SEWN TO THE CARPET!”
2. denial. “no wait. this has got to be a dream.” whew.
3. anger. “dammit vinnie, i can’t believe you sewed my HEAD to the CARPET!
4. depression. “why do these things always happen to me?”
5. acceptance. “well, i guess i won’t be going to work today.”

and there you have it. the five stages of (insert emotional situation here).

now for all of you locals, i have some info for you.

on friday february 16, even so will be performing a FREE concert at vineyard gadsden. that’s at 421 Broad St. Gadsden, AL.
the concert is FREE by the way. bring the kids. bring the goats. bring a ‘nanner sammich. just come out and hear us play.

its FREE. for more info on even so, laura “cheesy valentine” bentley made a webpage.

for info on vineyard gadsden

and guess what? my computer savvy dude, jimmy “two-eyes” jones, gave me some space at his server/computer/whatever and now you can go and read all the old weeklies because LB made me archive them. wasn’t that nice of him?

all you have to do is type pickle.fleegan.com

how easy is that?

until next week….

jaimie “well, it looks like my head’s been sewn to the carpet, again” pickle

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the one about the golden rule

Category: weekleez

the one about the golden rule
wednesday, january 16, 2001

hi you crazy kooky e-mongers,

i realize that this is “late” in that i “always” send this email out on “tuesdays” and that today is “wednesday”, but i figure that “you” will be able to get over the tardiness “of” this letter and forgive me at the same time. that being said…

hi kids!

so i’ve mentioned the gloriousness of thursdays to you guys before right? thursdays are the days that the wonderful Buy/Sell Bulletin comes out. and the BSB is the local ad magazine. and some of the ads are written by complete morons. some. not all.

one ad that i recently read (which was not written by a moron) was in the antique section and it read,
“8 QT. fruit and lard press for sale.”

now maybe its just the martha in me* but i think i would rather have my fruit pressed in a separate contraption than that of my lard. ya dig?

last week’s BSB had an opinion in it that i just HAD to pass along. and i promise you i’m not making this up.

“THE GOLDEN RULE Do unto others has you would have them do unto you. If you don’t they may return it to you 10 fold. Life is to short to play games. That is called a cult. Cults are against the law. People have rights by the law, to Life Liberty and the persuit of happiness. No one owns anyone. No one is an object or a stick of furniture. If you treat people like objects or inhumane, they will turn on you.”

y’know, i had no idea that the golden rule was that long. or that it was incredibly strange and slightly ignorant. it truly pains me to think that the “golden rule” that i learned was in fact, a lie. and not only that, but that it was also a complete thought with sentence structure and proper punctuation. gads, what rule DID i learn?! i must’ve learned the beta version or something.

and just to prove to you lovely loons out there that i’m not making this up, i have scanned and posted that lovely ad to the web. this way you can go an read it for yourself. i would’ve sent it to you as an attatchment but this this way it won’t take me all day to send this and you can go and read the ad at your leisure.

golden rule

sorry it’s such a rotten scan but it’s not like i got the best stuff to work with here.

there were also two (2) personals ads that stuck out and i do feel the need to share them with you

. first there was this one,
“GEORGIA BOY You know I like you but I don’t love you. Now back off. Love Susan G.”

whaaaa? apparently susie is really trying to mess with that guy, “…i don’t love you….love susan.”
sigh, morons.

and here’s the last ad. its a long one, a little sad, and a whole lot funny. (well, i thought it was funny, its a sick world you guys.)

“GREEN EYES: I’m exactly what you’re searching for! I adore children and they love me. I’m honest and true to one woman, and make it known to all that she’s ‘my everything’. I’m honest and true to one woman, and make it known to all that she’s ‘my everything’. I’m ornery at times, but mostly loving, caring warm and tender, compassionate, understanding, romantically inclined, and will never give you a reason in the world to look elsewhere. I’m completely unconditional! Two questions. Can you deal with me being incarcerated for the next 6 months at a nearby co. jail? And, you being only 24, me early 30s, are you ready for a man like me? Sunset Superman.”

now read it again.
GREEN EYES: I’m exactly what you’re searching for! (sounds too eager doesn’t he?) I adore children and they love me. (yeah, well kids like clowns too buddy. three words: john. wayne. gacy.) I’m honest and true to one woman, and make it known to all that she’s ‘my everything’. (DANGER he’s possessive! DANGER) I’m ornery at times, (he gets .06 points for trying to be honest, but he loses .04 of those points for using the word ornery) but mostly loving, caring, warm and tender, compassionate, understanding, romantically inclined, and will never give you a reason in the world to look elsewhere. (well, except for maybe that whole “incarcerated” thing. but who knows, maybe green eyes has no standards) I’m completely unconditional! (again with the eager thing) Two questions. (DANGER DANGER) Can you deal with me being incarcerated for the next 6 months at a nearby co. jail? And, you being only 24, me early 30s, are you ready for a man like me? (runaway! runaway!)

“are you ready for a man like me?” moron.

well, i suppose that’s the email this week. sorry that i didn’t have a list or a cool story to pass along and that i instead shared with you some of the local drivel. but hey, they can’t all be about the olympics now can they?

and i’d just like to publically announce that my leetle brahther, justin “earth-bound misfit” pickle, has a real job now. he’s a “teacher” canyoubelieveit? and he could be at this very moment infecting the minds of young children. way to go little hoostin! and now since he is a “teacher” and all, we have to show a leetle respect around here and call him mr. pickle. *snicker*

yeah right.

next week’s episode: my dad checks for a gas leak with a bic lighter.

jaimie “look man, its either a fruit press OR a lard press. gag.” pickle

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the one about the hippie locomotive

Category: weekleez

the one about the hippie locomotive
tuesday, january 09, 2001

hi everyone,

i have two things to tell you.

first, i was driving down the road and i saw a bumper sticker on this car and it read, “my other car is a locomotive”. and i had three thoughts fly into my brain right after i read that. my first thought was “liar”.

my second thought was about one of the first locomotives in england and it was named the comet. the funny thing is the comet’s top speed was 15 mph. not exactly comet-y. and my third thought was something like, “was that supposed to be impressive?” i mean, locomotive? come on, that’s so passe. it sounds so slow. ‘locomotive’ was back when steam was all the rage and the conductor used to say “all aboard!”. and kids, i’m sorry, but they just don’t say that anymore.

i doubt that “his” locomotive could go any faster than the k-car he put that sticker on.

i mean, why locomotive? why not train? “my other car is a train”. doesn’t train seem more fast, more modern, more better? of course, i’m not “up” with the whole “railroad jargon”. maybe to the fans of the rails locomotive is the “word”.

“yo casey! how’s the locomotive this morning?”
“dude, i got engine number 9 and my cow catcher is ret ta go!”
that translates to: “yo, what’s up?!” and “dude, i’m having a great day!”

but anyway, back to the trainlover. girls, if you ever date a guy with a bumper sticker like that don’t be surprised when you hear, “hey! wanna see my train set?” and i bet he wears one of those hats while he plays with the trains too. woo woo. chka chka chka woo. woo.

ok, now for my other story.

i was driving down the road and i saw this sticker (i know, this story starts out like the other story but its not the same story) actually it wasn’t a sticker. it was vinyl letters on the back of this car’s windshield and the letters read, “hippies for god”.

hippies for god! it really said that. and so, that’s cool. i mean, if the free-spirited folk want to worship the lord well then that’s great! what with all their peace and love stuff i figure god should be in there too right? and so i’m glad that there are some dirty tree huggers out there brave enough to sport such a creed, hippies for god!

(sigh, and of course the “dirty tree hugging” part was a joke. love the hippies.)

so now you’re thinking ‘hippies for god’ big deal, right? well, this was not emblazened on an old microbus or some volkswagen beetle, nay nay my friends, nay nay.

it was on the back of a RED CORVETTE!

GET OUT!!!
true story.

so here’s my list of ten (10) bumper stickers that these people SHOULD have had on their cars.
(i haven’t made a list in such a long time.)

10. my other car is a hippie.

9. my other car is a locomotive, which means i can only go where the rails are laid down and i have to keep to the timetables which is a fragile system of time and distance and not keeping up with the tables could cause a major crash seeing as how i have to share the rail with other trains. so as you can see, i’m very important.

8. i’m a hippie, no really!

7. chicks dig locomotives

6. there is no #6.

5. my other car is one of those super express trains that go over 200 mph! that’s ton’s faster than a plain old locomotive!

4. don’t blame me. i voted for pennsylvania railroad, pacific #1361!!

3. you see, timetables are very important because there’s another train on this same rail and its headed in my direction and if i’m not in a certain place at such and such a time then our two trains will collide in a cacophany of sound and carnage. so by saying “my other car is a locomotive” what i really mean is “my god, what time is it?!”

2. “my god, what time is it?!”

1. peace, love, harmony, and my 427 big block ’66 CORVETTE STING RAY!

and there you have it. the weekly for this week of january, 09, 2001.

and if any of you are freaky trainlovers, well, sorry for making fun of you. but you really are an easy target. (and hey, you wanna know a secret? i like trains too. but not as much as you do, freak.)
and for all you god lovin’, tree hugging, ‘vette drivers…well, god bless.

keep it real this week,

jaimie “atchison, topeka and the santa fe” pickle

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The One About Shrimp

Category: weekleez

The One About Shrimp
January 8, 2001

hi kids,  

right. so now that the holidaze are over i can finally get back to my routine of constantly worrying about this weekly e-mail thing. Weekly Hat….activated.  

first, some way cool people gave me stuff!  that means i gotta clear off more room on my desk here to fit all of this new free stuff! AND it means new nicknames for the spy club! which, by the way, laura “map-makah” bentley has started a webpage about the spy club and one day this week i’ll get it up and running.

mister Nathan Walton of Houston, TX (that’s right, houston! that’s in texas! oh my gosh!) sent me a care package consisting of 20 whirling flyers (plastic propellers that really fly!), two (2) glitter “exotic princess” stickers, a can of armadillo meat, and a nice friendly letter!  thanks nate-dog! (betcha hate that one, doncha?) anyway nathan’s cool nickname is Cowboy Zydeco or maybe just, The Cowboy, whichever he prefers.  he gets to drive the tank.  
mrs. Brandy Lauffer of Gadrock, AL gave me one of the coolest things in the world. you know how when you go to the doctor’s office you have to first sign in and there’s a pad and a pen on a chain and you have to write down your name and what doctor you are there to see and what time your appointment is for and do you have insurance y/n? well, she stole one of those pads for me!  isn’t that cool?!  her nickname is Margaret O’ Magma, aka “Meltdown Maggie” or Mags. she’s the demolition expert.  
and Mr. Beard *wink* of oatmeal for girls fame, sent another trinket my way:  a light-up, Lord of the Rings, Frodo the Hobbit Goblet!  it’s a glass goblet that actually lights up!  i mean, it’s a cup right? a chalice, dig? and you flip a switch, yo? and it lights up!  it glows red.  one could even say it is a grail-shaped beacon!  how cool is that?!  thanks Mr. Beard *wink*! now, it wouldn’t make any sense to give Mr. Beard *wink* a new nickname because well, it just wouldn’t make any sense, but we can promote him!  from now on he is Special Agent Mr. Beard *wink* master of disguise.  

right-o! on with the weekly!

they (them, whoever they are. freemasons pro’ly.) have built a new Captain D’s oops, heh heh, Flaptian Flee’s Express right down the road from where i live and well, as if fast-food seafood wasn’t bad already they had to go and make it even faster?  wha? express? i just… don’t…get it.
anyway, i was talking with some peeps the other day and the topic was seafood and well, of course, everyone loves shrimp. i mean, you either love shrimp or you’re allergic to it.  i’ve never heard anyone say, “eh, shrimp’s alright. i guess.” it’s always, “Man, i love shrimp!” or, “i love shrimp, but when i eat it, i break out in hives and my throat swells up and i spend the whole night swallowing ice cubes.” um, but you know.   

but shrimp is like, weird, right? i mean, i’m leery of the little bas- um, things. if my father is grilling shrimp then i know it’s okay. it’s clean. the shrimp have been “de-veined”. yeah right, that ain’t no vein. you know what it is. but uh, when you go to a restaurant, they don’t, um, clean them.  

so yeah, shrimp are great to eat. awesome even. but take away that spritz of fresh lemon and that tangy, spicy cocktail sauce and damn, it’s just a bottom-feeding, sea bug. and if shrimp weren’t ocean dwelling creatures, if they were “land lubbers” we wouldn’t eat those things any sooner than we’d eat a giant tarantula. 

ok sure, there’s the occasional misplaced french person willing to suck the “juices” from the heads of mudbugs or crayfish or whatever you want to call them.  but really, the french have awful taste in food. snails anyone? and don’t send me mail telling me that snails taste good. it’s an actual slime bag. why are you eating it?  

wait a minute…i was talking about shrimp.  

if shrimp weren’t seafood i don’t think we’d eat them. have you ever seen one of those things? crawling along the sandy ocean floor? slurping heaven knows what off the cruddy bottom of da sea?  dey’s freaky lookin’! i mean, if you saw a live shrimp crawling awkwardly on your bed, i daresay your first response wouldn’t be, “honey, get the net and some butter. we’re eatin’ good tonight!” heck no. it would go something like this, “AIEEEEEE! what the hell is that?! honey! come quick! there’s some kind of alien space bug on the bed! kill it! kill it! DIE DIE DIE!”  

and for as freaky looking and disgusting as those things are they sure are expensive aren’t they? dang!  

i went to Fled Flobster the other night and decided to splurge. so i got the cajun shrimp pasta. (okay, i won’t eat their mudbugs, but i do love the spicy food!) and i dunno if it was an off night or what, but that was the worst shrimp dinner ever. i don’t blame the shrimp. 
i think what i got was a bird’s nest covered in cat sick with a couple of shrimp on top. that crap cost me $13.00.  geez louise, how do you screw up noodles? i mean, they’re like, idiot proof, aren’t they?  apparently not.  one side of the dish had noodles so overcooked that they were disintegrating, the other side had noodles that were like pine straw. the sauce was, um, not spicy. it wasn’t even salty. it wasn’t anything. it was just white. and the shrimp weren’t even blackened or seasoned or anything! i mean, what’s so cajun about white sauce?! 
i mean, i’m not asking for the chef to “kick it up a notch” or anything, just “kick it” or don’t bother calling it “cajun shrimp”.  hoowee? derp! gack. and i guess they melted some “cheese” on top of it, maybe…’cause there was this fluorescent orange grease floating on top of the bland as kansas white sauce. come on Red! throw me a bone here.  or a ‘nanner samich or something!  

yep. so that’s my rant on shrimp.  was it boring? well it didn’t cost you $13.00!  

next week’s epitomb: ladybugs. as requested by Dr. Baldwin.  

jaimie “they’d pro’ly screw up a ‘nanner samich too” pickle

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the one about the founain of youth

Category: weekleez

the one about the founain of youth
tuesday, january 2, 2001

hi you kooky kids! its tuesday! so here’s your weekly peek into my head.

this weekend i had the pleasure of sight-seeing the united states’ oldest living city, st. augustine, FL. i only got to stay for one day so it was a bit of a rushed ‘vacation’. however, the stories that have come home with me are endless. and so here i will share a story with you.

no. no i won’t. its not a story so much as a warning.

we, laura “i feel cheated” bentley, lorna “i drank what?” buchanan, liz “just liz”, and i, went to find the fountain of youth. for those of you who do not know the legend of the fountain of youth it goes something like this.

juan ponce de leon, a spanish conquistador (the spanish call their pirates,”conquistadors”. whereas the british call their pirates, “sea dogs”. just a little fyi.), sailed about and landed in florida which he named, florida. it means land of flowers, or something, who cares?
anyhoo, he meets some indians, er, native americans and bladdy bladdy bladdy fountain of youth!

so, we find this archway that says Fountain of Youth Two More Blocks This Way. and so we drive under the archway and onward. the strange part was its in the middle of this ‘hood. and i had to recheck the sign to make sure it didn’t say, “Vinnie’s Fountain of Youth” or something like that. and so we park the van and pay our $5.50 to go see the fountain of youth.

incidentally, every sight-seeing, touristy tour thing in st. augustine will cost you $5.50.
i’m serious.

so we’re in the “park”. and its then that we notice that the sign calls it an “archaeological park”. and i think what that means is, “this won’t be fun”.
the first thing we see are some peacocks. which is pretty standard i think, except one of the peacocks was albino and usually people are kinda impressed by albino things only for a peacock its gotta suck to be albino.

after oo-ing and ah-ing over the peacocks we were immediately shuffled into this building where they were going to present a “show” about the fountain of youth. it was basically a laser show with a big globe. and by “laser show” i mean the tour guide pointed to different regions of the globe with one of those red laser pointer thingies. it would have been laughable if it hadn’t been so insulting. at the end the narrator said, in a very serious and dramatic voice, something like, “you have just witnessed the history and colonization of st. augustine.” to which my outraged brain was thinking, “no way dude, i just witnessed you pointing at a map.”

ok, so NOW we’re off to see the fountain of youth. no, wait. another tour. THEN they crammed us all into another building to see another “show”. this time it was a planetarium. and you’d think that a planetarium would be totally cool and all but then you gotta think to yourself, “why is there a planetaruim at the fountain of youth?”
so now there we all are (about 50 of us) and we’re just dying to get this planetarium thing over with because by god, we came to see the fountian of youth! and the “show” starts. and let’s see if i can re-create this for you folks at home. ok, first grab a flashlight. then turn off all the lights in the room you are in. now, point the flashlight at the ceiling. the planetarium was only slightly better than that. at the end of that particular moment of suck the narrator crows, “and we’ll leave you now in the tradition of all planetariums and say, ‘goodmorning’!” which is by far one of the weirdest things i’ve ever heard. and i think the reason they say that is because they know that there’s 50 or so really pissed off people just waiting to bumrush the tour guide.

by the way, our tour guide had a sling around her arm which was probably from a previous tour.

ok so now everyone is really antsy and pretty sick of redundant historical hobnob and for crying out loud just show us the fountain of youth! the tour guide says we can go see the fountain of youth. yay! “right through those doors.”
what?! the fountain of youth is inside?

so we all traipse into this horrible little building with a “lifesize” diorama and a highly laughable fountain. the only good part was that it had a roaring fire in a fire place (it was frickin freezing mr bigglesworth, sure we were in florida but its the atlantic coast, its cold!) and so we warmed up by the fire and then it hit us. the smell. gads, the smell was really bad. bah. and there’s some guy handing out cups of fountain of youth water and by the smell alone i know that i’m not putting that stuff in my mouth. lorna was the only one who tasted the water, she lived. apparentley they (the florida water works) have to clean the water up a bit for human consumption however, it still smells and tastes like a sulphur cocktail.

you’d think that’d be the end of the “tour”, but no. now this other tour guide gets up and explains the diorama (whcih by the way was so lame that it wasn’t even to scale), like we couldn’t tell which one was ponce de leon, hmmm maybe the guy wearing the spanish togs and not the one in the loin cloth! geezy peezy.
i mean, this guide was awful, i don’t think that even HE believed any of the “historical” filth that he was spewing. there was a cross of stones on the ground that supposedly ponce himself put there to mark the year and the fountain and i looked at liz and she looked at me and i think we nearly burst into maniacal laughter because my friends, those stones were obviously bought in the garden section of lowe’s or home depot.

so he’s looking a bit nervous because he could see all of our very unhappy faces and he concluded the tour by telling us that we were free to roam the park now. whatever that meant.

we grumbled our way out of there, and we’re mostly shocked by how incredibly awful and cheesy this whole experience was. it was so bad. and we walk along a path and there’s a sign that says This Way To Burial Grounds. and we’re thinking “alright! something cool! maybe we’ll get to see some bones!” and now the tour is looking up!

we walk into the burial grounds and you know what it is? its a big pit of sand and a horrible mural of some naked indians that had to have either been painted by the st. augustine high school remedial art class, a blind person, or someone who had never seen an indian or had never painted a picture in their entire life. of course, if a blind person had painted that mural i would be very impressed.

anyway, we leave the “burial grounds” and walk some more paths and they’re flanked by random cement foundation looking things which i guess were supposed to look like an old fort had once been somewhere near the place. and there’s a couple of rusted canons and an anchor which i’d bet my left arm didn’t come from one of ponce de leon’s ships. everything about that place was fake. FAKE!

now, to exit the “park” you have to walk thru the museum/tacky,cheap souvenir emporium. we had to kick a peacock out of the way just to get in. the “museum” was one single display case that had some rusted metal bits and nothing in it and the rest of the place was filled with cheap florida t-shirt plastic kite jewelry hat shark teeth crab muck. that whole place had no class. none. not that we expected any.

with that we left the “museum”, walked to the van, gave the fountain of youth the good ol’ one finger salute, shook the dust off our shoes and quickly drove away feeling angry and a bit violated.

so kids, remember this. st. augustine is beautiful. its also very expensive and its beaches are windy and rocky. there’s a pretty cool lighthouse. the atlantic ocean is a forceful beast that churns and bubbles and yields to no man. and there ain’t no $^#*! fountain of youth. so don’t spend your $5.50 there.

jaimie “vinnie’s fountain of youth, this way” pickle

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the one about the ‘nanner sandwich

Category: weekleez

the one about the ‘nanner sandwich
tuesday, december 26, 2000

well, that whole christmas thing is over now. everybody take a great big breath and release it slowly. there. now that wasn’t so bad was it?

so i get this email. well, its wasn’t really an email. it was a ‘forward’. and let me tell you something, i hate forwards, fwd, fw…. whatever. i really hate them. and this particular fwd was about the dali lama and his advice or something about the year 2001.
and actually i’m fine with that. the dali lama doesn’t bother me and i try my darndest not to bother him.

anyway, the thing i hate about fwds is that black and blue type/copy you gotta dig thru to get to the message that has nothing personal in it whatsoever. its like a trail of impersonalness. gads.

so i get this forward right? and instead of me reading it and gaining some sort of uplifting advice from the dali lama, i “stole” all the email addresses and added them to my list of weekly email recipients. so if my name doesn’t look familiar to you, don’t panic. i’m not selling anything. i just send an email out once a week, its real simple. and if this upsets you in any way, don’t blame me, blame the shemp that forwarded that email.

on with the show…

this week’s email is another parafable. its sort of a true story.

my father was telling me a funny story today. one time while he was getting his teeth cleaned he overheard two of the hygenists talking. and one of the ladies said that she and her family had taken grandma to fred frobster (its a sea food eating place). but grandma, you see, lived in a nursing home. so this trip to the restaurant was a big deal for gran. in fact, it was big deal for everybody. its not everyday that you go to a fancy restaurant with gran now is it?

so the fam is all there and they’re looking over the menu and its grandma’s turn to order and the lady asks her gran, “grandma, what do you want to eat?” and grandma replies, “i’d like a ‘nanner sandwich.”

now what my dad found so funny about the story was that neither of the dental workers thought the story was funny. they merely treated it as just another event. and you know what? they really missed the point didn’t they?

because the moral of the story is this:
often times we tell ourselves that this thing we call life is just “too much” and that we need a vacation or that all these “problems” are causing us “stress”. and that maybe we should “simplify” our lives so that the “stress” will no longer bring us “down”. (i’m really enjoying the misuse of “quomatation” marks today. that reminds me, i gotta funny story about quomatation marks and the idiot who pronounced it ‘quomatation’.) and you know what? there’s nothing simpler than a ‘nanner sandwich, except maybe just the banana, but the thing is you can’t have it simple. we just don’t “do” simple. but we try don’t we? grandma tried…and you know what it got her? “no grandma, you have to order off the menu.”

do you SEE what’s happening?! are we getting the BIG picture here?! this story isn’t just about grandma! its about you and me. its about injustice! its a spiritual/mental battle that we fight everyday! and dare i say that on grandma’s big day that battle was lost!! what are you gonna do about that? huh?

i’ll tell you what you’ll do. you’ll order off the menu just like everybody else because it doesn’t matter if its your special day or not. it doesn’t matter if you’re a grandma, a dental hygenist, or the dali lama because “the red” ain’t gonna make you a ‘nanner sandwich. and to me, that’s just sad.

until the next year,

jaimie pickle

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the one about happy holidays

Category: weekleez

the one about happy holidays
tuesday, december 19, 2000

and a happy merry holiday fun time to you and yours.

ok, for those of you who are receiving an email from me for the first time i’ll explain everything at the end of this email. as for those of you who receive this email every week quit laughing. i really will explain things to the new ones.
i refuse to call them “newbies”. that makes the new ones sound infantile and mostly incompetent. and i’m pretty sure the new ones can handle one simple email.

and a happy merry holiday fun time to you and yours.

one day last week laura “dangerous slippers” bentley and her father jim were discussing christmas cards or something festive like that. and mr bentley suggested that laura and i take pictures of our cars in the parking lot and send that out as a christmas card. sort of like, “merry christmas from laura and jaimie”. (laura and i are roommates, you see.)

now laura, being the clever one, decided that we should take a picture of our christmas tree and send it out to all of you guys. and then i, being the evil, maniacal one, decided that i would write one of those “holiday newsletters” that we are all so “fond” of.
i especially like the ones that are written in third person. gimmie a break. i mean, how cute can you get? i mean, not even martha writes in third person.

so anyway, here’s our holiday letter to all of you. (it would probably help if you read this in your fake sappy happy cheery voice.)

greetings!

laura and jaimie hope that this letter finds you and your family well this holiday season! laura and jaimie certainly have been busy this year. laura has been working for the local newspaper for the last 9 months as the graphic designer. she was very pleased to be able to find a job so quickly after graduating and she was doubly pleased that she was able to get a job as a graphic designer. and it stands to reason that she was triply pleased to find a job that was so close to home. we are all so very proud of her.

jaimie recently graduated college and has been working at a sign shop. she gets to design and make signs and she really loves her job. in fact, sometimes she wonders why she wasted all that time in college when she could’ve been making signs!

they currently share an apartment and they really enjoy the freedom of having their own place. everyone knew that laura was able to make the move but no one was really sure if jaimie would leave the nest of her parent’s house. it seemed that she would never leave that place, and true, laura had to drag her kicking and screaming, but after a few weeks jaimie acclimated and is now living a mostlykindasorta independent life, but not really. we are all so very proud of her.

laura has picked up a few hobbies this year. she enjoys writing fiction stories depicting characters that have already been depicted as well as writing bad poetry. she’s learned how to stay up late and surf the internet. and she also learned a very important lesson involving heroin, water fowl, a football helmet, and mathematics. she plays the flute.

jaimie picked up a few bad hobbits this year as well. she enjoys sleeping and reading. and she now annoys people once a week with an email that she sends out once a week. its called the ‘weekly email’. i think she calls it this because she sends it out once a week. she has spent the majority of this year in an isolation chamber and has become very paranoid. if you see her do not approach her. she is considered to have arms and is mostly harmless.

they are both in therapy.

well, that’s all for now but laura and jaimie wanted to send each of you a picture of their post-college apartment christmas tree. we hope you enjoy the picture as much as we enjoy the rap music that our neighbors play every morning. every morning.

happy holidays!

laura and jaimie

 

do you know how weird it is to type in third person? i feel like a psycho.

well, merry christmas movie house!

jaimie “zuzu’s submachine gun!” pickle

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The one about soup

Category: weekleez

The one about soup
Tuesday, December 12, 2000

happy 10 or so shopping days to you and yours!  

can someone forward this to bruce cornutt?  he changed email addy’s and then he wrote down his new one for me which i promptly lost.  

well kids, she’s back.  i’ve seen her.  i know, i thought she was gone too.  but nay nay my friends, nay nay.  i saw her on tv.  it was *her*.  and she is still preaching her message.  her message has not changed.  and neither has she.  

the old crone is still screaming her message to one and all.  

“don’t you BUY no ugly truck!”   

for those of you who may not know who i’m talking about i’ll explain.  there is some local car dealership and years ago their ads had this old lady and her face would pop up during the commercial and in her old gravely voice she would very sternly say, “don’t you BUY no ugly truck!”.  and she would drag the word ‘buy’ out.  and it was ridiculous.   

well, i saw a new commercial and she’s still a crone and she’s still very serious about not buying ugly trucks.  preach on sister. hala ja lula amen.  

ok so i have a parafable for you.  

earlier today i was in an eating place with jimmy “don’t you BUY no ugly truck” jones.  and for the sake of me not getting sued i’ll not tell you the name of said eating place.  but it does rhyme with flooby floosday’s.  anyway, we saw some people that we know and we said hi to them and for the sake of not embarrassing them or their daughter they shall remain unnamed.  but their last name does rhyme with flandy.  and flanny flandy is a flare officer.  (oh man, this is bad.   i’m making myself laugh). so we said our ‘hello’s’ to the flandy family and then ate our flinner.  um, dinner.  and to make a long story short, i had the same thing!   

(you know, i went back and reread that and i realize that the short version of the story makes no sense.  so i’ll have to tell you the long version, but to save time i’ll not start the story completely over but instead start from the part about eating dinner.)  

so we ate dinner.  and then we finished eating and put on our coats and grabbed our packages and proceeded to leave.  and then we stopped at the flandy table to say our ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good to see you agains’ and ‘have a good holidays’.   then the waiter came over and apologized to flester flandy about something and then walked away.  at that moment flebbie flandy told us that young flester had found a fly in her soup.  and young flester seemed to be quite disturbed (and *gag* who wouldn’t be? *gag*) and i was *gag* also disturbed because *gag* i had just finished off my own bowl of *gag* soup.   

and so good citizens of emailville, the moral of the story is this: just because you don’t see a vile, nasty, winged beastie in your bowl of soup du jour, that DOES NOT MEAN, dear friend, that YOU and /or SOME ONE YOU KNOW have not been contaminated.  but it goes much deeper than that boys and girls.  i’m not just talking about gross things and gastric discomfort.  i’m talking spiritual warfare.  i’m talking about watching your back.  and YOU BETTER be watching your BUDDY’S  back too, and for the sake of pete, make sure your BUDDY is watching YOUR back!  my god people!  am i the only one who sees what’s going on here?!  if A is equal to B and she has a fly in HER soup then holy ugly truck batman!   

“waiter!  there’s a fly in her soup!  and dear lord, i just ate a brimmin’ bowl of it myself!  and dontcha see, waiter?  you were used!  he’s the lord of the flies and YOU were HIS PAWN!  my god, man!  renounce your serving ways and join us in the fight!  REMEMBER!   

don’t you BUY no ugly truck!”    

jaimie “gimmie the ugliest truck on the lot” pickle

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