Pre-Sunrise Babbling

Look where Febreze, the Devil Spray, has planted itself now. Not content to be festering in our Tide boxes, it is making sure that it will be on our newly dried clothing, wrapping itself completely around us. Remember when it was advertised as simply an air freshener? Early commercials showed the presence of a foul odor in the air that dissolved with one tiny spritz of the magic scent. Then two evils collided when Febreze teamed up with a ruthless ad agency that has us believing our families are unhealthy if it is not in their closets, shoes, showers, cars, little league games, etc. How long before it goes after our food, people? Wake up & smell the fluorocarbons!! By the middle of next year I expect the first ads to emerge that enter the kitchen. It will be a tentative entry perhaps, where they show a stinky fish on the counter & family members holding their noses in the univeral symbol for "PU". Then the ads will very quickly herd our sheepish masses toward a belief that, in order to be odor-free & healthy, we must spray everything we eat with Febreze. The marriage of Febreze & Pam, the no-stick cooking spray, will be an inevitable outcome. I am warning you, this odious stuff is infiltrating our national sensibilities. Today it is in our Bounce.....soon it will be all over our Captain Crunch.

Except for a little skirmish between Olivia & Richard, the Wordox hostilities seem to have ended for now. It took several of us to get Perrin's feathers smoothed down again, but we did it. When a lone crow has to fight a whole bunch of turkeys, it can make him a tad crazy. Bahb may never get all the apologies she deserves, but I think she knows now how many of us think she's the cat's meow. I look forward to a peaceful Saturday in Interleague now that all the bananas & blood have been cleaned off the walls. I will play in as many tournaments as my schedule that day permits and, if paired with monkeymeat, I will forfeit.....quietly. Life goes on.

Let's Hear it for Bob!

I would like to offer up a major shoutout to my favorite vampire cat, Bahb. She took more than a few rotten tomatoes to the head Saturday night, for no good reason. I would like the TD who hasn't made an error when hosting to please step forward. Then the rest of us can throw a few stones at that liar.

There was a simple solution, several actually, to the problem that night. The tourney could have gone to paper & the mistakes could have been corrected later. We could have simply forfeited the game to Monkey etal., then gone onto the 4th round. Pepperrin could have withdrawn, which we did. Instead, the room was flooded with a tsunami of "outrage". There were so many feathers flying that solutions were not being considered. Everyone was more concerned with their own private agendas than the tourney at hand. There has definitely been a fight abrewing, and it is unfortunate that Barb got caught in the crossfire. She was treated shabbily by people who should have known better. Several people owe her an apology.

I hosted 3 tourneys that day because United did not. Not only do they continue to ignore the Interleague hosting schedule, they have deposited a malignancy in their absence. I will continue to boycott that malignancy, but I will not continue to create tourneys to cover for them. In the words of my darling little Welsh grandmother, "Fyck 'em."

Warning: Offensive Humor

There is a rule in the world of comedy. "Nothing is off-limits if it's funny." My ex is a comic (don't ask, he's not famous) & he called today, laughing his ass off about the Michael Richards meltdown. Richards went too far. He used a racial slur to counter-attack an audience member. But his main crime was that it wasn't funny. For that, the public will vilify him. Humor can offend on many levels:

Q: What's the difference between Jesus & a picture of Jesus?

A: It only takes one nail to hang the picture.

Q: What's white & goes up & down in a crib?

A: Michael Jackson's ass.

Q: What did the leper say to the hooker?

A: Keep the tip.

Q: Why do Republicans cry during sex?

A: Pepper spray.

Okay, I'll stop. (but I could go on for hours) I am a huge fan of absurdist comedy, so Michael Richards is a particular favorite of mine. He is a unique specimen, an anachronistic talent who should have starred in Mack Sennett comedies in an earlier era. He created something on Seinfeld that nobody ever saw before & Jerry himself gives him full credit for the show's success. Comedians know what happened to poor Michael. He's been on the road for a few months, he misses his family, his show is not well-received. Then he encountered a jerk out in the dark shouting insults at him that he found offensive, so he tried to return that energy by offending the heckler in the most aggressive way he could. He called him a nigger. If he had done it in a snappier, funnier way he wouldn't have been groveling on Letterman last night & looking like a beaten dog. The audience might have laughed a bit, the loudmouth would have been diffused by that sound & Richards would have softened & proceeded. What his fellow comics find hysterical is that he just kept shouting it, with no tagline....no punch. What a career-stopping moment.

They had a panel on CNN to discuss this very important issue & one member was an African/American comic who claimed to know Richards for 30 years. The man could hardly keep a straight face. While a human rights activist was blabbity-blabbing about racism & bigotry, the black comic was literally biting his lip to keep from laughing. (you could hear others laughing in the background, so he must have had pals with him) The CNN reporter asked the comic, "What should Michael Richards do to make up for this racist behavior?" He answered, "I think he should do a concert at the Apollo." When the room dissolved in laughter, the reporter switched her focus to another panel member quickly, but not until the comic yelled out, "And he should adopt a black baby!"

What I think Michael should do is go home, apologize to his agent, snuggle his children & hope for better days. And some producer should think about putting that Apollo concert together for him, it would be a hoot. I would watch.....and from whatever cloud he's on, Andy Kaufman would be watching too. Concerts with hostile audiences were right up Andy's alley.

Poor old Kramer just stayed out on the road too long. I'm willing to give him a break on this one because he's given me a lot of laughs. He didn't eat a live baby onstage, he tried to offend someone that was offending him. He made a bad choice that was unforgivably unfunny.

Wordox Wonderland

Late at night, when the world sleeps & the decent folk are dreaming of lollipops & Katie Couric, there exists a strange little world where both mythical & mortal creatures meet & bleat. If you are very quiet, you can sneak up & watch them in their natural habitat, frolicking and drinking.....& drinking....& drinking.

Everyone who enters the Wonderland realm is greeted by a chirping Moobawk who will flap, flip & squawk as the mood strikes her. Last night the denizens were celebrating a victory over an Evil Monkey by their very own barnyard frog. Froggie was praised for winning the Red Shoes from the dumb Monkey & entertained all with a lively tappity-tap dance in those very same shoes. Even after throwing one ruby shoe to the creature called Pompazass, the terpsichorean toad still tappity-flapped to hoots & cheers.

The party was hosted by a liquor-soaked 38DD cat. She mews & purrs, but beware her bite. This cat can turn into a vampire bat. There was no Ivy in sheep's clothing, but most of the Wonderland creatures were there. Uberwurm smugly savored a verbal victory over the creature known as StickyRick. And, as always, the Beam-guzzling Crow perched on a fencepost & oversaw the proceedings.

Anyone is welcome to come watch the Wordox Wonderland creatures at play, late Saturday nights. However, watch at your own risk. If you do not keep a safe distance, you may get swept up by the madness and, before you know it, you may find you've grown a lovely tail, maybe a wattle, & you will find nothing strange about waltzing with a Worm (slithhhher) or dancing with a frog (sploooosh) or having a feathered udder flipped in your face (bawk.)

Alice found her wonderland through a looking glass. Ours can be found through a shot glass. Wordox Comp Room, late Saturday nights.....come enter a whole other dimension.

Opus Dei-Oh, Dei-ei-ei-Oh

Opus daaaaay-Oh. Daylight come & me wanna go home. Actually, I am home, and daylight's a-coming. I just finished watching The Da Vinci Code & I cannot believe what a snooze fest it was. Tom Hanks really phoned that one in, he looked like a serial killer on way too many valiums. I counted at least 3 moments where he sounded exactly like William Shatner.

What I enjoyed most were the little historic tutorials throughout Opie Cunningham's requiem of a movie. I didn't read the book, but I did see the two specials on CNN & the History Channel, so I didn't learn anything from the religion lessons. I got a little inner thrill when Ian McKellen roared in disgust & hurled the Malleus Maleficarum across the room. (One for our side. Cackle.)

No matter how hard I tried to get rid of it, the vision of Andy Dick, as the self-flagellating murderer in an MTV Movie Award parody, kept popping into my head whenever I saw "Silas the Ghost." That really neutralized his malevolence for me.

The film was a nice history lesson and, Goddess knows, I love anything that de-sanctifies christianity, but it is dark, confusing & too damned long. I should have watched the Flavor of Love marathon on VH1.

Apolo-geez

I owe an apology to 8 people who did not get to play another round because of my Monkey Boycott. Last Saturday in Interleague it was down to me & Stupor Mario for the win, so I asked Ivy to take me out of the game. That meant the chimp won automatically & everyone else had to pick up their toys & go home. I blame Ivy. He is certainly one of the people who has earned the right to say, "Stop it, you self-absorbed Princess Pepper. Forfeit the match & let people have their final round." (with an accompanying slap on the forhead) But of course he would never do that. I am sorry for cutting the tourney short. I will continue to boycott MonkeyBars, but I will do it with a forfeit & not a withdrawal.

I also owe an apology to anyone who has had the misfortune to step in front of my ill humor lately. I call it MPS "Mad Pepper Syndrome." I seem to be getting ticked off at the slightest things lately. A player gave me a hard time about the blue seat recently, as he has often done in the past. Instead of 1 minute of muttering "asshole" at my monitor, I stewed for the whole tourney & a small time after that. I got annoyed when 2 different players told me they were watching TV while playing. At the time, I felt it was a passive-aggressive gesture to show me that playing me did not require full concentration. (made worse by the fact that they both beat me) This has never bothered me in the past, I've watched TV while playing too, but this time it soured me for an hour. Little things flare up & stick in my craw, like: teenagers who play far beyond their vocabularies; new members who mysteriously appear & play well; players who start a Ladder game 1 minute before the tourney begins, then make their opponents wait until they are finished; readers who comment on blogs anonymously; etc etc etc. I'm a total grouch these days & more than one Ox'er has pm'd to ask if I'm okay.

I am okay, just experiencing little mini-meltdowns that vanish nicely when I smoke a roach or two. If I snap at you, please just call me a name & leave me be until the THC kicks in. This too shall pass.

Don't Ask, Don't Tile

I am still pondering the sexual orientation/Wordox ability debate that was discussed in my last post. I know it is convenient & logical to dismiss Oliver's claim that homosexuality & skillful Wordox playing go hand in hand as just the attention-seeking ramblings of our own resident Hellenic misanthrope, but he may just be on to something. I think it is possible that his correlation is accurate, but QuestionMadness may be mistakenly assigning it to the wrong sex.

I have played some gay males in various leagues & I cannot remember one of their names. I remember some of their profiles & some of the snappier things they may have said in the lobby, but I never made a connection with any of them. There may be some I play that do not choose to make their sexual orientation known in the Hoyle arena, but I have no idea who they are. What I do know is that, had they been stellar players, I probably would remember at least one of their names. Is it possible that male homosexuality actually inhibits skillful Wordox playing? Can anyone name one of the male Wordox Legends who was light in the loafers? If you think back on it (& many can think a lot farther back than I can,) haven't all the male superstars of our game been blatant, cock-waving hetero's? You never see any TOC's being won by players named "DonnieStardust" or "AnitaMann". No, Oliver missed the boat with his claim & it would indeed be easy to dismiss the entire notion as delirious drivel, but he may have serendipitously stumbled onto an actual relationship between homosexuality & Wordox skill.

Almost daily, a gay Woman of Wordox beats the beejeesus out of me. She tops the standings for several leagues on a regular basis. I would call her one of the primo female players in Wordox and, since she is a lesbian, that must be the operative variable. Therefore I conclude that, if a woman wants to be a top-ranked Wordox player, she should consider becoming one of the sisters in comfortable shoes. For many of us who are older, it is too late. All we can hope for is a bi-curious phase in our late 40's. (If our ranks rise suddenly & we stay up there awhile, you will know that we are in the midst of such a phase.) Younger women still have time to experiment & decide if they want to travel down the path to an alternative lifestyle & thousands of extra Ladder Bux.

I do believe Oliver is not so crazy after all. He just picked the wrong gender.

Queens of Wordox

There are a thousand little skirmishes going on in Wordox at all times. Some rage on in pm's & others are exposed through snide remarks in the lobby. The most interesting feud going on right now is the one between Jeff & Olivia. { http://myoxblog.blogspot.com/ } Olivia, who has recently morphed into a 29 yr. old male named Oliver, claimed that the men who are better at Wordox are homosexual. I'm not sure how he/she correlated these two variables, but it makes for a nutty debate. Perrin has rebutted this statement with his own personal dating & mating history...always with females. He also cites the heterosexual activities of his fellow *A* male players (not that there is anything wrong with being homosexual.) I told him that was one of his better blog entries because he managed to get his point across without bringing his balls into it, although they were implicit. Thank you both for keeping us entertained at a time when the Wordox tables are a little tepid & boring.

Spritzing Howards

I've been rather hard on the product Febreze in the past because I believe it promotes OCD on several levels. It taps right into the germophobic aspect of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder & could very easily turn us into a nation of habitual sprayers, like Howard Hughes, Howie Mandel & Howard Stern.....all self-admitted victims of the mental malfunction & all named Howard. Coincidence? I think not, but that's up to the authorities to investigate. If you are related to, or know someone named Howard, observe them when they are unaware they are being watched. (I cannot do this, I have not one Howard in my life.) Do they carry around a bottle of antiseptic? Have they started to wear boxes of Kleenex as shoes? When you try to hug them, do they run to the nearest corner & collapse in a heap, screaming? If they show any of these symptoms, please report them to the National OCD Foundation, at their 800 number. At the prompt, press 3 to "report a Howard."

Okay, I got sidetracked with the Howard issue. I also feel that Febreze is creating a nation of chronic spritzers....those who don't feel safe & intrinsically fulfilled unless they are spritzing something. I can understand this manifestation of OCD because I have been spritzing so much lately that my right index finger aches. I have discovered Wishbone Salad Spritzers & they are wonderful. An amazing product, IT WALKS, IT TALKS, IT CRAWLS ON ITS BELLY LIKE A SNAKE..... okay, I made that up. It is good, though. Everyday I find another use for this yummy stuff. (I like the Balsamic Vinaigrette best) Today I found out that it really livens up a BLT. Yesterday I was spraying it all over my asparagus. It ain't just for salads, folks. One calorie per spritz, but that doesn't matter to me. It tastes so good that I would still be spraying if it was 10 calories a pop.

If you are burdened with the shame & annoyance that is OCD, at least sublimate those constant compulsions to spritz into something yummy. It won't kill the germs in your children's toy boxes, but it can really jazz up a slice of tomato.

Slow & Steady Wins the Race

Representing the Men of Wordox, Perrin won the Battle of the Sexes in Interleague. We (the Women) put the battle armor on Kate & sent her onto the battlefield, where she fought gallantly for the home team. We then watched Perrin flap around & crow all night about the victory.

Yes, the crow preened & cawed like the Hare did after winning a sprint against the Tortoise, but we all know how that turned out in the end, don't we? Let them have their victories for now, we will slowly & steadily continue to move onward until they are nothing but dust bunnies in our trail. As we do so, we understand something the men don't. They foolishly believe we seek equality & fairness. By the time they open their eyes, they will realize that our true goal was always utter superiority & domination. And we will achieve it.....one dead crow at a time.

Me, Flea & Halloweeeeen

The Red Hot Chili Peppers rocked the roof off of Cleveland last night. We had a ball. Flea didn't wear his customary tighty-whitey's, opting for a leotard instead. He must have been feeling that pre-winter breeze from Lake Erie. "Ah, Cleveland, city of magic...." (Randy Newman)

Do you remember when it was cool to flick your BIC, hold it in the air, close your eyes, & sway to the music like you were entranced? It was almost mandatory for songs like "Free Bird" & "Stairway to Heaven" & "Dream On." They do that with cell phones now, it's strange. My son & his g/f spent half the concert with their phones aimed at the stage, videoing the better songs. I looked around & all the kids were doin' it. The technology is really quite amazing. We went home & watched the light show all over again, huddled around his itty bitty monitor.

I'm not sure I would have wanted those things around in my younger days, when I rocked out at concerts often. Some bonehead with a camera would have recorded me falling off the balcony at Syria Mosque in Pittsburgh, at the Pink Floyd concert.