Wednesday, April 6, 2011

What Hump, Camel Toe?

Well, How-dy-do, doodies (baby slang for poo)!

I am sorry that I skipped yesterday's scheduled "What-the-What Tuesday" segment, but as you can't see, Helen K, I am very busy this week. Thankfully, I have a Tonka-truck load of clients that need me to write their websites, and create Facebook pages for their businesses.  Halle-lewd-ya! (for the Kathy Griffin fans:Both of you), Hola-lou-ja( for my Hispanic cousins), and Holly-Lube-Ya ( for the youporn stars. Or just Amanda's vibrator, Chris).

Plus, it turns out that applying for a full-time job, actually is a full-time job. Even though there's no corner to stand on. So I am on the hunt, folks, and after every few resume/cover letter's  that I send out, I need to sharpen my spear against a rock. Which is a huge problem now that the stone has rolled away.
Don't worry we fired that gardner. He was looking a little too thin.

So this is what's up, what's up: Today I am going to combine the Salty Piss Flipping, "What-the-What's" with the Hump day Specials. So  It's, "What the Hump? Wuesday".


1.Starbucks Freaky-Deakys! Understand that I nearly fell over (off the toilet) when I read about this: Starbucks  new mobile pour APP.  Starbucks, has a feature for mobile phones that allows a person to order a drink and have it delivered to him or her or herm by an on-call Starbucks Barista riding a scooter. RIDING A SCOOTER. What-the-Hump!? Now you understand  feel my aforementioned chaffing! Salty Piss Flippers--get ready New York, it's a comin' to you.
http://www.starbucks.com/blog/introducing-starbucks-mobile-pour/987?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=af

2. Last week, I found out the hard way that my favorite coffee shop in Avon,Pops, closed. I don't mean that it was just may favorite coffee shop in Avon, I mean it was my favorite coffee shop menstrual cycle (.)
 It has closed, Hank! And even worse: It's been turned into a deli. A DELI! This place had the best everything: Decor, tables and chairs, sandwiches, desserts, oh my baked goods, and coffee. Oh--fiddle my loin-strings--they hurt!  
I yelled "Miscarriage" in three different languages and played "Hot Cross Buns" on my rape whistle when I walked out of said deli.  Nobody really understands weird grief. Except for those guys that eat their golden-arched, Dollar-menu feelings and try to pass it off as a visit for free WI-FI.

Sigh.

3. O -as in Oprah-Magazine's issue for  this month has a special feature about poets! What-the-hump-a-lots? Thanks be to the Big guy! And to completely misquote Karl Marx (even in structural syntax): "Oprah is the religion of the people." 
There is a sweet interview of the very old, and still lovely, Mary Oliver conducted by Maria Shriver( the terminator's wife). Read it:
http://www.oprah.com/omagazine.html


4. Haiti elected a carnival cruise ship singer as their new president. What-the-Ho Humming-Hump?  And he's a provocative, stripping-til-nude- singer at that! This is chaos. The majority of the votes went to Michel Martelly over the reputable, female college professor, Mirlande Manigat (what's with all this "m" alliteration? Not that I'm complaining). The only promising thing about the Haitian president elect is that he has 3/4 of my first name. 
Well, Donald Trump may be running for president of this here United States, so this world is all kinds of Tube-Topsy-Turvey lately.

What -the-Whatcha-hi-ya-Bruce Lee- sound effects-moment-of-discovery channel-hungry-hippos-humping-in-heat: I just realized that if I made that "YouTube-topsy-turvy" that would have been a metapun! But to keep from being too obnoxious, I'll stick with what I already have.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/05/world/americas/05haiti.html


5. Amanda has informed me that someone published a book called, Why You Should Store Your Farts in a Jar (and it has a subtitle that I am inherently too lazy to write). Farting in Jars?!That's my Joke!

There is literally nothing more annoying to me than someone stealing my jokes.

Stealing my jokes= using them without giving attribution to the author/creator/Oprah of it's 19 hours-of-labor-birth.  Or the six pounds and two ounces that was/is/ and will always be me. Unless I become a contestent on The Biggest Loser.

You can take my gadgets,clothes, money, dignity, v-card etc, but steal my jokes, creative writing, innovative ideas....and I am one peeved lady. The worst part is that I don't know this man that published such an atrocity. So I am rendered feeling helpless since he probably didn't steal it from me. But I suppose,in some ways, it would have been worse if he were a friend.

I remember the first time I received a room filled with laughs. I was standing in front of the classroom reading the "Warm Fuzzies" for the "student of the week". The Warm Fuzzies were nice things students would write about their fellow "student of the week".
So one week, I was chosen to read some student's belly button lint fuzz. And I stood in front of the make-shift podium and bellowed out some haha-worthy material for each piece of paper containing the fuzzies. That's right, with each paper that I read, I cracked some jokes--my tongue a cool whip--and the students: my sex slaves pseudo-laugh factory audience.
Anyway, I had such great reviews/ feedback and such a  great feeling in my bowel movements that I knew I wanted to do that forever: Make people laugh. And really that's all I ever want to do in life.

But that need to create and progress and constantly forge writing and comedy (and their half Mexican,half-hermaphrodite bastard children) with any sort of fresh innovation, comes with an overwhelming annoyance for those that steal what I create. This is who I am unfortunately.  And I first realized that in fifth grade when my best friend, Michelle( Yes, best friends with the same name--a red flag, a foreboding to an identity theft--It's probably why it never worked out), stole my jokes and test answers, and used them as her own. I don't know if there is a more unbearable feeling than hearing people get the laughs for my jokes. Again, sans attribution.

Quick semi-Parenthetical tangent: The test answers thing sucked too. I was a smart, studious kid. I worked for my A's( which is always a good thing unless it's bra sizes).

It's a feeling akin to getting punched in the junk. (Yes, I have junk, Hank) And then I had to Mortal Combat that feeling, which grew to resentment, against my deep, friend love for her. And sometimes it's scary to see which one won. Especially if it was wearing that triangle-bamboo china hat and fisting  throwing sonic booms.

So a lesson to you,Hank: Don't steal my shit. Or I will ninja-star you in the ovaries.


6. It took me awhile to realize that MTV's Senior Hip Hop Writer position is not someone that write's raps. I don't know what's worse: Thinking the position was  someone that writes raps rather than writing about the hip hop culture, music etc , or the fact that I considered applying for it under that rap-writing pretense.

OKAY, I'm feeling a bit like Rosa tonight, folks. My feets is tired. And my mom made me sit in the  back of the minivan...even though it was just the two of us and she's healing from a broken back and therefore can't drive.

So like Rosa, I need to claim my dignity and walk home. Plus, my ass is tired of being mistaken as my lower back. So I need to go give it some TLC: Kate Plus 8  Cake Boss.

Over and Out: Kshh
-Michelle J. Canoodles

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