FUF #21

FUF me in the morning then just walk away. Since I get so few comments, that's kinda how I feel you're treating me already. I know, boo f'n hoo. Yes, it's another Follow Up Friday. In this bizarre Wednesday-holiday week, I feel like Friday already came and went at least once. Disirregardless, let's get to the related stories, unrelated stories, and (the fad that's sweeping the nation) Car Watch.

In yesterday's post, I wrote all about my babysitting time with "Owen." Yes, I changed his name, but mainly because I wouldn't want to be held accountable for everything I said and did as an 8 year-old. Only the really cool stuff. I'm sure his parents are to blame for most of his quirks; I certainly blame my parents for mine. Here's another quick story about him. I mentioned that we played a lot of games together. After almost running out of games, I wanted to teach him the card game "Bullshit." Since he was a kid though, I told him it was called "Liar" instead. We played over the course of a year or so, and I always had to hold back from yelling "Bullshit!" when he said he had three fours and I had two in my hand.

A few days ago, I wrote about our hotel screwing us over in Amsterdam and referenced a Seinfeld scene. I looked up the exact dialogue because I want to know it better for next time, and I thought I'd share:

Seinfeld: I made a reservation for a midsize.

Clerk: We have no midsize available at the moment.

Seinfeld: I made a reservation. Do you have my reservation?

Clerk: Yes. Unfortunately we ran out of cars.

Seinfeld: But the reservation keeps the car here. That's why you have the reservation.

Clerk: I know why we have reservations.

Seinfeld: I don't think you do. If you did, I'd have a car. You know how to take the reservation, you just don't know how to hold the reservation. And that's really the most important part of the reservation-- the holding. Anybody can just take them.

Gotta love it. You know what else you gotta love? That 1-800-KILLSPAMEMAIL changed their phone number. My brother called to tell me that the commercial he originally heard with that number now had 1-800-NOMORESPAM instead. They shaved off three unnecessary letters, but they're still way over the line in my book. As Kevin pointed out, that number could double as 1-800-NOMORESANTACLAUS. A laser eye clinic somewhere is pissed that it can't get 1-800-NOMORESQUINTING because it's been taken. And I'm sure Abstinance Anonymous is wicked pissed that NOMORESEX is taken too.

My mom told me about a great untonym she thought of: reflected. She pointed out that it works both with the thinking definition and the mirror one. Right she is. "After he told me the truth years ago, I immediately put it out of my mind. My initial flection was all I needed to change how I looked at the world from that point forward." "The once shiny granite now had a thick layer of film on it that seemed to absorb everything, and passers-by were only flected where they used to be able to check their teeth for spinach remnants." I like it; I like it a lot.

A few days ago, I was pissed off at something that someone wrote to me in a work-related email. For some reason, the phrase "no-talent ass clown" popped in my head. I knew it was from something but couldn't remember, and it was killing me. I had to Google it, and it quickly answered my question: Office Space. It's what the character named Michael Bolton calls the singer Michael Bolton. Good times. Try to use that at least once this weekend.

Ok, ok, you've waited long enough. It's time for Car Watch. (Please, please, take your seats. This is getting embarrassing.)

Sacky Christi sent me two great items for this week. First, a license plate frame on the back of a big black Dodge Durango SXT that read, "The gas you save is the gas I burn." Surprisingly, this isn't the same person who was boasting about how big his carbon footprint was last week. I'll let Christi set up the next one herself: "An older model Dodge Ram 3/4 ton Diesel. The thing was two tone - red and white with a broken tail light, cracked windshield and no rear view mirror. Bumper sticker: 'Yur foloweeng a Rednek.' Yeah, like we couldn't have guessed that one!" Nicely done, SC, nicely done.

A little bit ago, my homey Rockabye sent me a bumper sticker that read, "Musicians Duet Better." I really liked that and thought it would easily be the best "do it" sticker of the week. Boy was I wrong. Yesterday, Rockabye outdid himself by spying, "Make-up Artists Do It on Your Face." I'm so proud of him I could almost cry.

I saw "My Other Girlfriend is a Hooters Girl" on a car earlier this week. I have two very important questions for him. "Is there really a first girlfriend?" "Does the Hooters Girl have any idea that you think you're her boyfriend?" I suspect the answer is no on both counts.

You know how some people have white stick figure drawings of their family members on their back windshields? Just this morning I was behind a guy who just had a drawing of a guy and a dog, labeled "Bachelor" and "Dog." I thought that was an interesting twist on the original. Sure, it may not be "Make-Up Artists Do It on Your Face," but not everything can be.

And lastly, my lovely wife saw "Powered by Pixie Dust" on a license plate frame yesterday. Sounds more like Angel Dust to me if she truly believes that. Yikes.

That's it, folks. Have one hell of a weekend, and we'll meet back here on Monday. Deal? Sweet, I love making deals. And listen, this time I mean it: I'm running out of good ideas for posts. Write me at ptklein@gmail.com please with thoughts about things, questions you'd like answered, or just inane crap and it'll make me exceedingly happy.