Foot. Balls. Get it. Mrs. Robot went and got one of them pedicure/manicure jobbies the other day. She was going through the colors trying to pick one for her toes and found one that was kind of red-brownish. It was named: Meet Balls.
She picked that one solely on the name.
Talk like a Pirate Day On NPR last night, the All Things Considered guy interviewed one of the creators of Talk like a Pirate Day. You might be able to find it in their archives.
Neighbor Adventures #4394 We are fascinated by our loud ass neighbors. They live across the breeze way from us, and have constantly been loud, and we have been here almost 4 years. 4 years of loudness. It started with them hanging out the window when they talked on the phone and talking very loudly - their conversations echoed up and down the breezeway. Then there was just the basic yelling. Or a baby crying. Or both. And with a loud TV. You get the idea.
There were always like 43 people staying in this small ass apartment, not counting the mom, dad, and two or three sons. We could see into one of the bedrooms, and every morning we would see a new fellow sleeping in the bed. We referred to them as running a hostel.
This summer is a bit different because the parents went back to Yemen. Other neighbors said to just visit, but it's been like all summer, and I fear they will never come back. The three sons (or two) have had fun all summer doing those things that we all did as kids:
Playing loud euro-pop crap at 2am
Yelling constantly (I imagine that is how they normally communicate: "WILL YOU HAND ME A DRYING CLOTH!!")
Slamming their door. Over and over again.
Yelling
Their friend yelling and slamming doors
I mean, the yelling is pretty amazing. It's a wonder they are not hoarse.
New neighbors moved in above them, and reported smelling a gas leak. A gas guy came and checked out their place and said that he thought it was coming from downstairs. They went down and knocked on the door, and the kids would not let the gas man in because,
"You can't come in - there are military men here!"
(long story for little payoff, eh?)
The End. No, but really, these people are so wonkey. We joke that if we went to visit Yemen, everyone would be yelling. Like at the airport: "WELCOME TO YEMEN! DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING TO DECLARE! CAN I SEE YOU PASSPORT! WE HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR STAY".
Ouch. I was reading a review of Tom Green's new movie 'Stealing Harvard'. I don't know why I was reading the review - the movie looks stinky. Tom Green I think has some sort of comedic value, but I don't think anyone has figured out how to harness it and make it work. His TV show at times was really clever, but these days he comes off just like that nutty hyper child that drove you crazy as a kid. The one who's room smelled funny, and the lights were too bright. And he seemed to lick and drool on everything. OH, yes, The point of all this - the final paragraph of the review:
Wholly undistinguished tech package, which would never pass muster on a higher-profile studio pic, gives "Stealing Harvard" the look and feel of a movie shot entirely on the sets of a daytime soap opera.
-or this one-
that this enfant-terrible of the MTV generation comes across more like a third-rate, dinner-theater Jim Carrey
That sucks. Poor crazy Ol' Tom Green. Misunderstood nut case. Wait, that makes no sense. He is a nut case, and we understand that. I should have written: "Poor crazy Ol' Tom Green. That nut case."
