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furtherblog
11/22/2006 = 10:37 AM

Yay on O.J.'s book getting pulled. Boo on its selling more copies on its two days on the shelves than I have sold since I went to press in October.

Furtherboo, according to abebooks.com, "[a] book becomes collectible when it's hard to find, and [O.J. Simpson's book] will become very, very collectible, surely worth four figures."

Sometimes I loathe my fellow man. Usually right around the holiday season, oddly enough.

Speaking of which, I know I'll be sick of it very shortly, and I know a lot of people hate it, but I am currently thoroughly amused by the Cingular Christmas Story spoof ad.

However ...

... the idiot in the Suzuki ad: I wish that, just once, his parachute would fail — and that he would land on that benighted woman who stops in the middle of the hustle and bustle of metropolitan downtown to eat a Dove Chocolate.

That's my kind of commercial.

Other people he could land on would be Kirstie Alley, Man Laws (which I could find amusing if only they weren't advertising Miller), and anyone, anyone at all, who is gellin'.

Oh, my gourd, that would give me such the happy.

Where was I?

Oh, right. Rocking the holiday cheer.

I had a brilliant idea for a hostess gift for Thanksgiving, and, if someone invites me somewhere instead of me having Thanksgiving at my house, I will be bringing a fair-sized basket, containing:

• A loaf of bakery-style white bread
• A decorator crock of butter
• Two single serving bags of white cheddar popcorn
• Two single serving bags of potato chips
• A package of gourmet jelly beans
• Two single serving bottles of old-fashioned root beer
• Two ping-pong paddles and a ping-pong ball
• A Vince Guaraldi CD

Tell me you wouldn't want to get a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving for Two as a gift. Hell, I want one myself. Furtherhell, I think that's what I'll make for dinner next year.

Perhaps you have noted my penchant, today, for creating new words starting with "further." This is just a spinoff of my happening to notice that furthermore can be used for expanding upon a topic, but furtherless is not a word at all, and I have decided that furtherless could be used to cut a topic off, but a) no one wants their own pet topics cut off; and b) "shut up" is more succinct.

So furtherless is out, but I, I am embracing the further prefix today.

Mmm, caffeine. Sweet, sweet caffeine, how I love thee. Furtherlove, the day off.

Yes, I took a vacation day.

See, if I'd have gone to work, they'd have dismissed us early, which you might think would be a waste of a full day's vacation.

However, I wouldn't have gotten to leave early, because they'd have piled so much poo on my desk that I'd still be plowing through it at the end of the day.

I am so all over the place. I slept just about two hours, woke up and have been dividing my time between writing furiously for (I hope) money and blathering here for nothing.

Shut up. I can quit anytime I want to.

I want Robert Altman back. I'll trade O.J. for him.

Michael Richards.

Yes, I'm going there. Come on, it'll be fun.

It's not okay to insult people who have no control over what you're insulting.

Therefore, using The Big Bad N-Word to put someone down is bad. Michael Richards should have just called the hecklers assholes. They were being assholes. Skin color had nothing to do with it.

The fact that he chose to make their ancestry (not their race, dammit; we are all members of the human race) the focus of his counterattack was stupid and bad.

But he had control over that. Or could have, if he'd used his brain instead of his mouth for a second.

A choice. Therefore, he's open game. So I can insult him for making that choice if I want to.

Fortunately, I don't have to. Because the fact that the person who made this choice was Michael Richards, a person who, when he was stationed in Germany, used to direct and produce stage shows designed to teach people about ... race relations?

Oh, people, you can not make shit like that up. This could fucking be a Seinfeld episode, in and of itself.

No, it's not funny. Of course it isn't.

Heh.

Intolerance. It's the new Love-Thy-Neighbor. If you're not alienating an entire subsect of the planet's population, ugh, you are so not gellin'.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Tags: Thanksgiving

drinking: coffee
listening to: Arlo Guthrie, The Alice's Restaurant Masacree, in four-part harmony, with feeling
someone else the suzuki guy could land on: the lady in the lowe's ad who can't remember the name for anything she needs