FUF #42

Good morning, gentle readers. I'm glad you came along, I dedicate this song, to all the words I've FUFfed before.

I have another: 'Cause when the lovin' starts and the lights go down, and there's not another living soul around, then you woo me until the sun comes up and you say that you FUF me.

There, you get two of those today. Speaking of today, it is the one year anniversary of my first post on UOPTA. As I've mentioned a few times, this will be my final weekdaily post (that word really should exist), but I shall continue to post something every Friday until I decide to stop that for some reason.

As an English major, I was trained to look for meaning in everything, whether intended or not. Therefore, I can't help but be pleased to see that this is FUF #42. To some of you, that number has no real significance. To others, you see it and think, "Oh, that's the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything." You're absolutely right. According to "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," that is indeed the Ultimate Answer. Then they have to find the Ultimate Question, but that's a whole 'nuther story. Those are great books, by the way. So, I find it fun and fitting that my final FUF is numbered such. (Also, 42 is a multiple of 6, which is my favorite one-digit number, and it's 24 backwards, which is my favorite two-digit number.) Have you written anything today that is associated with the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything? Slacker.

As tradition dictates, my FUF will be comprised of things related to previous posts, some random ramblings, and then an edition of Car Watch. Here we go:

I wrote earlier this week a little about modern art. That reminded me of something from my freshman year of college. A friend on my floor was in a beginning Art Studio class, and they all had gone over to a place where some guys were skateboarding. There were two halfpipes next to each other, separated by about six inches. The T.A. turned to the class and asked, "How many of you think this is art?" Shockingly (to me), a couple of hands went up. "You see," the T.A. continued, "My first thought was that it wasn't art either, but then I saw the space between the two halfpipes and it changed my mind. That little space there made it art to me." I am so glad I never took one of those classes. I don't think I would've gotten through week one without yelling, "What the hell are you people talking about?!"

I also wrote earlier about my trip to Spain in high school. Another highlight of that trip (besides Spain Cat) was the disco that my friend Dusty and I checked out. That was memorable for three reasons: One, drinking J&B whiskey for some reason (and calling it "jota y be"). Two, we heard a techno version of "Chariots of Fire." If I could replicate that in type with several "duns" and "booms," you know I would. Third, some of the weird techno songs had English thrown in. We heard people repeatedly singing the only line in a song we'd never heard. The line? "I want your pussy." Dusty turned to me and asked, "Uh, they don't know what they're saying, do they?" They clearly didn't, but we didn't want to break the news to them.

Raise your hand if you remember me saying that I had a story on Wednesday but instead pushed it to the FUF. Good, good. Here it is: I was working at Orientation and chatting with some parents at the Parent Social that took place on the first night of each session. It was always hilarious to see the same parents who were freaking out about alcohol on campus tossing a few back themselves just an hour or two later. In any case, I was chatting with a few moms and the topic of dogs came up. One said that they had had three Pomeranians. "Aw, those are cute," another mom said. "Yeah, but they're not very sturdy," she countered. We obviously asked for more information. "Well, the first one we had got away from my daughter on a walk and was hit by a car and died. And then the second one, well, my daughter was practicing for cheerleading one day, and when she was doing a flip, the dog snuck in and she landed on it and broke its back." "Was it ok?" someone asked, sad and concerned. She shook her head and said, "He took his last breath right then and there." It was silent for about ten seconds, and I finally erupted with a hint of nervous laughter: "That's a horrific story!" I said. Everyone agreed. I kept picturing the poor girl who had been responsible for two of her dogs' demises and how awful that must've been to, ya know, cheerlead one to death. Happy Friday, by the way.

My favorite brother called me a couple of days ago to say that while unable to sleep, he set his mind to finding an Auto Follower for me. He came up with "unbridled," which is good, but not perfect. I think that can still be used to talk about horses, even though it's almost entirely used with "passion." I look for real true ones though, and actually stumbled upon one the following day: Kindred. Pretty f'n perfect, no?

Ok, now it's time to say goodbye to all our ramblings. C-a-r (aren't you glad you stuck around?) Double-u (you wouldn't skip out now, would ya?) a-t-c-h...yeah... Car Watch! Damn, that song almost worked all the way through. Here goes:

My co-worker Rob was behind a truck for a florist company and he sent me an email about it. The company's name was "The Empty Vase." To me, that should be the mortal enemy of a florist, not its namesake. That's like a dairy naming itself "Lactose Intolerance." (I just thought of a bunch more of these, but I'd love to hear your versions, so please comment away.)

My dad wrote me after seeing a license plate that read, "RUFLNME." When I first read it, I thought it was "Ruffling me," which didn't make any sense. Then I figured it out and wrote him back saying, "Well I guess you'd have to be, no?" I've got a point there, eh comrades?

I saw a plate that told me to "STA HNGY." Initially, I wondered what "Stay hangy" could possibly mean. Then I quickly jumped to someone pleading with Martina Hingis not to hang up her tennis shoes. Finally I realized that the person's just a fucking moron who decided that something being even slightly close to the message he wanted to put out there was close enough in his book. Grrr.

I saw a plate that said, "405 BYTZ." This was great for a couple of reasons. First, yes, the 405 has horrendous traffic and I admire that person's commitment to disliking it. Second, I saw this car on Sepulveda, the street that runs parallel to the 405 that people take as an alternate. Way to go, fellow L.A. driver. I admire when people stick to their very public proclamations.

And now for my homey Rockabye's sights of the week. He had some great ones that I'm pleased to share with you. First, he saw a bumper sticker that said, "Live every second as if your ass is on fire." Really? Every second just like that? How unproductive would our world be if everyone just ran around screaming, fanning their butts, and plopping down into puddles or sinks to stop the burning? I can tell you one thing, it would certainly make these presidential primary debates more interesting.

Next, he saw another one that offered advice with which I disagree: "Drive it like you stole it." Oh sure, that makes perfect sense. We all know that car thieves are among the safest drivers out there, so let's all emulate them. Man I hate people sometimes.

Lastly, he saw one car with three bumper stickers. They were, "Cover me, I'm changing lanes," "I think, therefore I'm single," and "Anger management graduate: What the hell are you looking at?" I didn't ask if it was a man or a woman, but I can't see a man having the second one. Therefore, I'm going to refer to the driver as a she. If that makes me a sexist bastard for one paragraph, I can deal with it. Imagine this woman pulling into an office parking lot for a job interview. Her prospective employer pokes her head out and sees the car (yes, bosses can be women too, you assholes). Does she think to herself, "Hmmm, she seems like a good fit for this office," or something similar? No way in hell. She thinks, "Ah, an angry, bitter, bad driver who thinks ever happy person in a relationship must be an idiot. This should be interesting." I can understand people using the messages on their cars to announce hobbies or even how odd they are to the world, but it's the people who proclaim how miserable they are that really confuse me. That's not going to stop the cycle but rather reinforce it because people will assume that you're hell to get along with before ever speaking to you. Does anyone have any insight on why people do this? Help me out here, because I'm at a loss and getting a little worked up here over some very inconsequential shit. I need a stiff jota y be to calm me down.

And with that, my friends, I'm closing the book on my first year as a blogger. It's been a labor of love, and while I'm sad to see the daily aspect of it go away, I'm also looking forward to having a little extra time for other possible creative outlets. I'll keep you all posted of course. In the meantime, please comment away, email anything and everything you want to share to ptklein@gmail.com, and I'll see you back here next Friday. Shaloha, and have a great weekend and upcoming week.