I’ve heard of people who only have one thing on their mind…but this is taking it a bit too far, don’t you think?
Weird
Why Did We Ever Break Up?
Dear Amazon.com,
Hi. How have you been? I’ve been watching you on the Internet…no, wait! Not like that. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay since I left you. And it seems that you’re doing fine without me…great, even.
Me? I’m not so good. See, it’s taken me a while to realize how stupid it was for me to break up with you. We worked well together, Amazon…and I was too stupid to see that before I went and made the decision to end the best thing I had going for me. I’m slow like that. Guess that’s why people who do business with just me find that they’re stuck waiting WAY THE HELL TOO LONG for their stuff to reach them. Kind of like that whiny hater LobaBlanca, who is still waiting for an order she placed more than a week ago. I’m afraid she might do something drastic, like try to make me look bad on her blog.
Remember how quickly my orders would get out when I was with you? Because, baby, you were on top of it all back then, and I didn’t have a worry in the world. Your trusted name was getting me more play than Paris Hilton’s sex tape at a frat party. But those days are obviously over. I’m trying to do it on my own, and, baby, it’s hard! On top of my shitty shipping service, you know how overpriced my inventory is, especially in comparison with yours…
I need you, Amazon! Baby, I never should have left you two years ago. It’s taken me all this time to realize this (see? I really am slow!). I wish I could change that decision, that we could go back to the way things used to be. But it is what it is, right? I just wanted you to know that I realize now how good I had it once, when I was sailing along down the Amazon.
Take care of yourself, Babe.
Love always,
Borders Books, Music and Movies
Oh My God, It’s Full of Smurfs
The Future of Customer Service
And I thought we had shitty customer service now…
Going Green, 24th Century Style
My company is going “green” crazy. It’s now part of our mission statement, part of our daily grind…even our e-mail signatures all have to have a “think before you print this” tagline. It’s a bit silly, but I know that their hearts are in the right place. Plus, I got a free water bottle and coffee mug out of the deal, so we’re all winners, right?
Seems that recycling is going to be around well into the 24th century. Don’t believe me? Check it:
The lovely Rutian with Commander Will Riker is Head of Security Alexana Devos, played by Kerrie Keane in the third season TNG episode “The High Ground.” Strikes quite a pose in her militaristic uniform, no?
Fast forward to Voyager’s fourth season episode “Random Thoughts,” and Chief Examiner Nimari of the Mari, played by Gwynyth Walsh:
Not only is Ms. Walsh a “Trekcyclable” actress (not recognizing her without her furrowed brow and excessive Kleavage? It’s B’Etor, byatches!), but that Mari uniform is so 2366 Rutian! They may not be the same costume, but someone went digging through patterns and revived this oldie but goodie with some subtle alterations.
And before you ask, yeah, I really am this geeky. Don’t mock it…you know you like it.
Perfectly Profitable Purell Pandemic
Damn but I wish I’d bought some Johnson & Johnson stock recently.
So you know those plastic containers that you find in convenience stores, usually filled with fun stuff like atomic fireballs or Jolly Ranchers? These containers are all over my work. Every floor. At the reception desk. In the kitchen. Everywhere. Only instead of being filled with groovy candy, they’re filled with tiny bottles of Purell. My company has also installed automatic Purell dispensers near the elevators and the restrooms.
We are ready, mo’ fo’!
For what, exactly? Apparently, for the inevitable swine flu pandemic. This is Phase I. I’m not really sure what Phase II is going to be. Actually, I’m not completely sure about Phase I. What are we supposed to do with all these little bottles of Purell? If my office mate starts to sneeze too much, am I supposed to squirt Purell all over her? Will that kill the H1N1 virus? Will it ruin her clothes? Will male coworkers stop and watch?
Hmm.
I don’t know why we go to such extremes over the silliest things. It’s the flu, people. We go through flu season every year. This is simply another strain of the flu of which we need to be aware. Caution is required. But not panic. Or “pandemic.” Although I’m sure that the hand sanitizer folks couldn’t be happier right now. It’s like the perfect marketing storm for them. Same for the cleaning supply folks. Bet those Clorox wipes haven’t flown off the shelves this fast in years.
Not that I would ever imply that companies would rejoice over profits made from undue bouts of mass hysteria…
Is That Really What I Think It Is?
You might as well settle in for more geekery. I’m in that kind of mood right now.
So I’m finally watching my Voyager discs that I showed off here a while ago. Actually, I’ve skipped the first three seasons and gone straight for the Borg jugular. Season 4 was around about the time that I stopped watching the show the first time around. I’m slowly learning that this decision was definitely my loss. As off-putting as I originally found the character of Seven of Nine to be, I’m discovering that Jeri Ryan indeed brought more to the show than a catsuit with heels and a padded bra. I’ve seen quite a few of her episodes throughout the remainder of the series, thanks to SpikeTV, but now I’m filling in all the remaining gaps. So far, so good.
However, as I was watching an episode yesterday, I couldn’t help but notice something very familiar being used in a very…different way. I know that in the past, set designers have used various everyday objects as futuristic devices. Several of Dr. McCoy’s instruments were in fact re-dressed salt and pepper shakers from Roddenberry’s personal collection. And the TNG first season episode “Arsenal of Freedom”? Those targeting weapons that attack the away team are nothing more than plastic tubing and shampoo bottles.
Nothing wrong with either instance. It’s just set designers and props people getting their creative juices flowing a bit. But then there’s the vegetable peeler that Tom Paris used to repair Seven of Nine’s damaged hand in the episode “Revulsion.” Don’t believe me? Take a look:
Now tell me that doesn’t look like a stainless steel vegetable peeler with a pinkish glow added in post-production! Need another look?
That, my friends, is a potato peeler if I ever saw one. A futuristic-looking peeler, true…but come on, guys. Dress it up a little bit more! At least make me work to figure out what kitchen utensil is being used in sickbay!
You’re So Dreamy…
Bet you thought that I abandoned den, didn’t you? Not quite, but kind of. I’m working a gig downtown all week, and my online free time is severely cramped as a result. It’s hard to blog when you’ve got people coming up to you with their laptops in hand, crying “Save us!”…and I sure can’t whisper no and get away with it with my boss right there (and, yes, that was a little nod to Watchmen, thank you very much).
Anyway, I did get to come home last night. My sabbatical, however, is almost up and it’s almost time for me to venture back. Never fear, though, my friends. There will be a Flashback Friday this week. I wrote it last week and it’s scheduled to go online automatically. Don’t you just love technology sometimes? I might also try to fit another post in between now and then, but I can’t make any promises at this point.
So I had this strange dream this morning right before I woke up. Never mind the strangeness that I remembered it, which I very rarely do with dreams. But this was about me hunting. Yeah, that sounds plausible already, right? I won’t go into details other than to say that the only people I recognized from the dream were my high school softball coach and a kindergarten teacher from my old school. I don’t know who I was supposed to be hunting with, but we were walking through the woods with shotguns and we heard this sudden commotion of screaming and crying. We came into a clearing where two bears were rampaging through a campground down below (we were standing on a cliff that strangely had a staircase carved into the side that descended down to the campground).
Next thing I know, I’m loading my shotgun, climbing down the stairs, taking aim at one of the bears, and then…BLAM! I shoot it and kill it with one shot. The second bear stops running, comes over and sniffs the now dead bear, and then just sits down and hangs its head. In the dream, I drop my gun and start to cry. In reality, I wake up and am five shades of relieved that it was just a dream.
Now I’m trying to figure out what the hell might have inspired that kind of dream. I don’t think I ate anything weird last night, and I went to bed early enough that I got a good night’s sleep. All I know is that if these are the kinds of dreams I have, maybe it’s for the best that I don’t remember most of them.
Anyway, I need to locomote now. I’ve got a jean folding seminar to get to (and if you sugar boogers can name the movie I just kind of quoted from, I’ll pay for your next tank of gas).
Dirty, Dirty Girl
How sad is it that I’ve been sat here for about 10 minutes, giggling over this:
In case you don’t have the same horribly dirty mind that your humble hostess has, it’s the trackback link that’s left me laughing: “YOU ARE IN: Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton.”
See, now I’m laughing while typing this. As much as I love Hillary, I don’t want to be quite that close. Besides, shouldn’t I at least buy her dinner first?
Dirty minds aside, if you all missed Secretary Clinton’s appearance this past Sunday on Meet the Press, then here is the transcript from her appearance. Thank you to A2, both for supplying the link and the laugh.
Slurpee Jonesin’
I have a horrible confession: I kept a big secret from you all this weekend, and I did it intentionally. This past Saturday, July 11, was Free Slurpee Day at 7-Eleven. You could go into any 7-Eleven Convenience Store anywhere in the country and get a free 7.11-ounce Slurpee (get it? Free 7.11-ounce Slurpee at 7-Eleven on 7/11? Clever, eh?).
Why didn’t I tell you? Because I didn’t want to run the chance of you standing between me and my free shot of Slurpee Love. Yes, I’m serious. No, it’s not rational. I don’t care. You have no idea how excited I was about Free Slurpee Day. I have forgotten every single damned time ever since I first learned about it about 2 or 3 years ago. This year, I was NOT going to forget. I did everything short of branding the date onto my forearm.
I love Slurpees. They are the most syrupy-sweet, sugar-packed, enamel-rotting, brain-freezing, diabetic-coma-inducing cup full of high fructose happiness ever. I used to drink them all the time. I also used to be two clothing sizes bigger than I am now. Needless to say, it’s been probably more than a decade since the last time I had a Slurpee fix. As much as I miss them, my waistline is grateful for the moratorium.
So why open the door? Uh, hello? Did I mention they were free? And yes, I said they. I went to two different 7-Eleven stores that day. I’m not ashamed to admit it. And they were delicious. I had one blue raspberry and one wild cherry/cola combo, which was always my favorite choice when I was a Slurpee junkie.
I fantasized all day Sunday about finding a 7-Eleven that was extending the free Slurpee day to encompass the whole weekend. But I didn’t go back into any of the stores. I kind of like fitting into my clothes a little more than I like that sugar rush.
Guess I’m just going to have to wait until next year to satisfy my itch. And now you all know about the free treat, too. Just one warning: Don’t get in between me and that Slurpee machine. We don’t want any incidents on such a happy day, do we?
