Insert funny Halloween pun here

Good evening. I know it's actually morning for many of you, but it's much easier to say "Good evening" in a spooky voice than "Good morning." Go ahead, try saying "Good morning" and making it half as creepy as "Good evening." It's rather difficult. Why am I being spooky? Duh, it's Halloween. Therefore, it is also our appropriately-named dog Hallie's birthday today. Hallie, if you're reading this, HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN READ?!?

I have nothing even close to resembling a theme for this week's UOPTA post, so if you get motion sickness from stories jumping around violently, then I suggest you take your Dramamine now and settle in for this rocky ride.

I wrote last week about a strange backwards phrase that I know and sometimes say if prompted by the circumstances. I thought of another odd thing that I say from time to time as well. As is the case with phonetically saying "Wing Commander" backwards, this one is also often quoted by friends and family who weren't present at its inception. About 20 years ago (which blows my mind to be able to say that), I was at sleepaway camp with a few friends. A counselor and a counselor-in-training kept saying the same thing over and over again and cracking up. It always started with a second of Gibberish that wasn't much more than waggling their tongues against their lips to produce a weird version of "la la la" that sounded like it had Bs in it. (I'm 100% certain I didn't explain that right, so just say "blah blah blah" in your head and you'll be close enough.) After about five of those syllables, they'd yell in a strange accent, "Lee's barstools and dinettes!" Then they'd laugh and do it again. Naturally, we asked what the hell was so funny. Apparently, they had earlier been standing near two people speaking Spanish. According to them, it was a full on conversation in Spanish for minutes straight, until one of them said, "La la la la la LEE'S BARSTOOLS AND DINETTES!" It was so unexpected (both the language switch and the words themselves) that they couldn't stop reenacting it and laughing...the entire week of camp. So naturally, two decades later, I say that every single time (complete with the Gibberish intro) that either "barstool" or "dinette" comes up. It isn't often, but it's good to have waiting just in case.

Let's move a little closer to recent times. About 15 years ago, I was in a chemistry class in high school. I hated it. I enjoy the biological sciences quite a bit, but chemistry and physics just aren't my thing. In fact, my bookcover (wow, remember those?) for the class said, "CHEM IS TRYing my patience." I was proud of that. In any case, we were told to break into groups for some stupid assignment and meet at the lab tables around the room. My friend Dusty and I ended up with a young lady we didn't know very well but had chatted with occasionally in the past. She agreed to be the one taking notes, and she started writing all of our names on the top-right corner of the lab report. She wrote her name, then Dusty's, and then paused after my first name. "How do you spell your last name?" she asked me. "K-l..." I started, but then Dusty jumped in: "O-w-n." She wrote it on the paper, then looked up bewildered. "Klown?" she asked. I decided to play along. "Well, it's actually pronounced Klon, but yeah, that's how it's spelled." "Wow, I always thought that the teacher was saying Klein," she said. We laughed and said that happens a lot. At the end of the period, we turned the paper in as is, wondering what the teacher would think. When it came back, there wasn't a single marking on my name, so she either didn't notice or just thought, "God, that guy's an idiot." Either way, our lab mate probably went the rest of the year (or longer) thinking that she was in a class with Peter Klown. It's not quite up there with the time that I got a whole group of girls to think I was Peter Rabbit for years, but it's in the same ballpark.

Speaking of ballparks, I watched a good deal of the World Series, even after my hometown Dodgers were eliminated by the unoriginally-named Philadelphia Phillies. That's even worse than the NFL's Houston Texans. Congrats to them for winning the championship though, in spite of their uninspired name. Anyway, for one of the games held in Tampa Bay, a cameraman briefly stopped on a fan holding a sign that said, "Puck Fhilly." No, no, no! It doesn't work if one of the words sounds the same after the switcheroo. The sounds have to be different for a spoonerism to be effective. "Nucking futs" works, right? So does Gene Wilder's immortal question, "What are you trying to do, give me fart hailure?" So "Puck Fhilly" tried to be effective but...mailed fiserably.

My lovely wife was eating pancakes sometime in the past couple of weeks. As is often the case, I started (uh oh) thinking about the word "pancake." "It's kind of like a cake made in a pan," she said. "But not a cakepan," I added. "That's true." "Shouldn't a pancake be made in a cakepan?" I asked. She shrugged, and then she made the face that means, "I'm going to be reading about this conversation, aren't I?" Yes, my love, you certainly are.

While we're on the topic of words, here's a mini tale of one more that stuck in my head for a bit. A co-worker was on the phone and he said, "I think that's what caused the disconnect in the first place." I don't often use that phrasing, but I'm certainly accustomed to hearing "disconnect" used as a noun like that. Here's what got me though: Why isn't it disconnection? The noun of the antonym is connection, right? I'd never say, "On their first date, there was a palpable connect." I know English is all messed up at times, but I just ask for some consistency in these things. What's next, a fight breaking out over a little misunderstand?

And lastly, I saw an ad for a Mercedes Benz dealership. At the end, the screen told me to call 1-800 For Mercedes. At first, I started counting the letters in "Mercedes" to see if it was more than seven or not. Then I realized that the "For" was in there too, thereby making it eleven frickin' letters. That's a big problem. Let's say, for example, that your country was in all sorts of turmoil and your only way to save yourself and your family was to make a run for the airstrip under cover of gunfire. You don't know people who own automatic (or even semi-automatic) weapons, so you want to hire some help for this dangerous and likely murderous task. Where to find these folks though... You pick up the phone and take a stab at it. 1-800 For Mercenaries. After a couple of minutes of hold music that seems oddly pleasant compared to the subject matter, a human voice greets you. "Thank you for calling Mercedes Benz. Would you like to hear about our brand new S-class or some of our certified pre-owned vehicles?" By that time, the rebels have surrounded your village and you barely talk yourself out of being killed by offering your legal services pro bono. That was a close call. Good thing I made you a lawyer at the last second. Thanks for nothing, Mercedes.

And with that, let's scurry on over to the Car Watch, eh?

My Dad sent me a message about a license plate on a Prius that he saw. "MOE MPG" it read. It's true, and I gotta think that we're almost out of ways that people can tout this on their hybrids. I've seen (and documented) a good number of these so far, so there can't be that many left, right? (Ha, left right. That's funny.) I doubt it's the case, but I hope that driver's name is Moe, because that would be even better. Hmm, do you think any Moe has the plate "FLMNG MO" for that Simpsons episode? It has to be taken, right?

I was behind a car a couple of days ago, and I did a genuine double-take. It was a Kia Rio, and the plate read, "KIA RIO." What possible additional purpose could that plate accomplish? It must just be the novelty of being able to fully fit your car's make and model within the confines of a license plate, because there's absoultely zero other reason for that. We know it's a Kia Rio. How? It already says it on the fucking car, dipshit. All that does is confuse a hotel front desk staffer when parking in their lot. "Ok, so what kind of car are you parking here?" "It's a Kia Rio." "Ok, and the plate?" "Kia Rio." "Yeah, I got that. The license plate though?" Hours of fun, right? I bet on insurance forms, it looks like the equivalent to repeating something louder for a non-native English speaker to maybe understand you better. "Model: Kia Rio. Plate: KIA RIO." To me, that means, "I already told you, moron." Oh there's just so much that I don't like about that plate. (If I get an email from that car's owner telling me that it's commemorating a family member who was Killed In Action in Rio de Janeiro, I'm gonna feel really bad about the whole "dipshit" part.)

Let's end on a more pleasant one, shall we? My homey Rockabye sent me this plate: "VERY (Heart)LY." I like this, because you could use the heart as "love" or even "heart" and it'll still make sense. I'm sure they're going for "lovely," but it gives us two possible and viable reading options. Thank you for making your plate interactive, kind sir or madam. (See how pleasant that was?)

And with that, I'm out. Ready to get happy? Happy Halloween today - get some good candy, avoid creepy penny-giver-outers, and wash off your makeup before going to bed, no matter how drunk you are. Happy Half-Birthday to our friend Jesse tomorrow, farewell to Daylight Savings Time on Sunday, and Happy Half-Birthdays to our friends Jen and Debbie on Wednesday. Last but not least, have a good Election Day on Tuesday. If you're 18 or older, please vote. If you're not, maybe your parents should block this website due to its occasional naughty language. As always, friends, you can email me at ptklein@gmail.com with absolutely anything that crosses your mind. Take care, and I'll see you wext neek.