Sunday, May 01, 2005

The Jerk!

Anyone who hasn't seen the jerk MUST SEE IT! I've loved this movie for as far back as I can remember. Steve Martin is a comic genius in my book.

Martin plays "Navin", a white man who was raised by a southern black family. He doesn't realize that he isn't black until he's an adult and his mom breaks it to him on his birthday (he finally figured out why his favorite meal was tuna fish salad on white bread with mayonnaise, a Tab (the drink) and a couple of Twinkies. LOL!!) . Upon finding out he's white he exclaims," You mean I'm going to stay this color?!!" He then decides to set out in search of his special purpose and to experience the wonders of the world!

Navin's (Steve Martin) first monologue tells it all:
(Our hero, Navin, is sitting at the bottom of a staircase, looking like a bum.)
Navin: "Huh? I am not a bum, I'm a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things. My friends and... uh... my thermos. Huh? My story? O.k. It was never for easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days sitting on the porch with my family singing and dancing, down in Mississippi."


Memorable Quotes from The Jerk (1979)

Navin R. Johnson: For one dollar I'll guess your weight, your height, or your sex.

Navin R. Johnson: Well I'm gonna to go then. And I don't need any of this. I don't need this stuff, and I don't need you. I don't need anything except this [picks up an ashtray]

Navin R. Johnson: and that's it and that's the only thing I need, is this. I don't need this or this. Just this ashtray. And this paddle game, the ashtray and the paddle game and that's all I need. And this remote control. The ashtray, the paddle game, and the remote control, and that's all I need. And these matches. The ashtray, and these matches, and the remote control and the paddle ball. And this lamp. The ashtray, this paddle game and the remote control and the lamp and that's all I need. And that's all I need too. I don't need one other thing, not one - I need this. The paddle game, and the chair, and the remote control, and the matches, for sure. And this. And that's all I need. The ashtray, the remote control, the paddle game, this magazine and the chair.

Mother: Navin, I'd love you if you were the color of a baboon's ass.

Navin R. Johnson: I was born a poor black child.

[first lines] Navin R. Johnson: Huh? I am not a bum. I'm a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things: my friends and... uh... my thermos. Huh? My story? Okay. It was never easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin' on the porch with my family, singin' and dancin' down in Mississippi.
[a sniper keeps missing Navin and hitting cans of motor oil]

Navin R. Johnson: He hates these cans. Stay away from the cans.

[Navin recites some wisdom]
Navin R. Johnson: Lord loves a workin' man; don't trust whitey; see a doctor and get rid of it.

Navin R. Johnson: [singing] I'm picking out a Thermos for you. Not an ordinary Thermos for you. But the extra best Thermos that you can buy, with vinyl and stripes and a cup built right in.
Navin R. Johnson: The new phone book's here. The new phone book's here. This is the kind of spontaneous publicity I need. My name in print. That really makes somebody. Things are going to start happening to me now.

Navin R. Johnson: [Speaking to Marie in bed while she sleeps] I know we've only known each other four weeks and three days, but to me it seems like nine weeks and five days. The first day seemed like a week and the second day seemed like five days. And the third day seemed like a week again and the fourth day seemed like eight days. And the fifth day you went to see your mother and that seemed just like a day, and then you came back and later on the sixth day, in the evening, when we saw each other, that started seeming like two days, so in the evening it seemed like two days spilling over into the next day and that started seeming like four days, so at the end of the sixth day on into the seventh day, it seemed like a total of five days. And the sixth day seemed like a week and a half. I have it written down, but I can show it to you tomorrow if you want to see it.

Mother: Navin, it's your birthday, and it's time you knew. You're not our natural-born child.
Navin R. Johnson: I'm not? You mean I'm gonna STAY this color?

Stan Fox: [Stan Fox's glasses keep slipping off] Damn these glasses.
Navin R. Johnson: Yes, sir. [to the glasses] I damn thee.

Navin R. Johnson: Why are you crying? And why are you wearing that old dress?
Marie: Because I just heard a song on the radio that reminded me of the way we were.
Navin R. Johnson: What was it?
Marie: "The Way We Were."

Navin R. Johnson: First I get my name in the phone book and now I'm on your ass. You know, I'll bet more people see that than the phone book.

Navin R. Johnson: [in bed] You look so beautiful and peaceful, you almost look dead. And I'm glad, because there's something I want to say that's always been very difficult for me to say. [pause], "I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit." There. I've never been relaxed enough around anyone to say that.

Navin R. Johnson: I'm gonna bounce back and when I do I'm gonna buy you a diamond so big it's gonna make you puke.
Marie: I don't wanna puke.

Navin R. Johnson: Good things are gonna start happening to me now. [Crazy guy with gun scrolls through a phone book]
Sniper: Navin R. Johnson... Sounds like a typical asshole.

Motel Guest: Don't call that dog "lifesaver;" call him "shithead."

Navin R. Johnson: Now be totally honest. You do have a boyfriend don't you.
Marie: Kind of
Navin R. Johnson: I know this is our first date but do you think the next time you make love to your boyfriend you could think of me?
Marie: Well I haven't made love to him yet.
Navin R. Johnson: That's to bad. Do you think its possible that someday could make love with me and think of him.
Marie: Who knows maybe you and he could make love and you could think of me.
Navin R. Johnson: I'd be happy to be in there somewhere.

New Accounts Bank Manager: I will need two pieces of identification.
Navin R. Johnson: ah yes. I have my temporary driver's license - and - my astronaut application form... I didn't pass that though, I failed everything but the date of birth.

Marie: I don't care about losing all the money. It's losing all the stuff.

Sniper: Die, you random son of a bitch. [shoots at Navin]

[last lines] Navin R. Johnson: [voiceover] I was so glad to be going home. I remembered the days when I sang and danced with my family on the porch of the old house. But things change, and with all the additions to the family, we had to tear down the old house, even though we loved it. But we built us a bigger one.

Navin R. Johnson: Good Lord - I've heard about this - cat juggling! Stop! Stop! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Good. Father, could there be a God that would let this happen?

Hilarious!

Always in love...unless you're a sadistic freak who juggles cats!!
Lambchop~

The Script is HERE

Friday, April 29, 2005

The Pope Has A Blog!!!

So I have to thank Hippolyte for this one (check him out here). In his most recent post he informed us, his readers, that the Pope actually has a blog!! I went to said blog and saw that it was true!!

The Pope appears to be so very down to earth and approachable. He keeps it real, but he may dabble a tad much in the communion wine than I would think a man of his position would, and by the way he talks some may get the impression that thinks he may be greater than Christ which is disturbing, but dont let me taint this for you....

Funny read at any rate. Not meant to offend anyone I'm sure, but it is entertaining!

Go here to visit the Pope's blog - http://askthepope.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Another Fast Food Tragedy! @ ARBY'S!!

Hey All! I've been way out of it lately so I havent taken the time to get the random thoughts out. Still working on the post on our friendship. Soon!!!!!! In the meantime, here is another disturbing example on why fast food sucks!!!!


Lawsuit Says Man Found Skin In Sandwich

POSTED: 7:29 am PDT April 26, 2005

DAYTON, Ohio -- A man is suing a fast-food restaurant operator for more than $50,000, claiming he found a slice of skin on his chicken sandwich.
David Scheiding filed the lawsuit in Montgomery County Common Pleas Court on April 1 after rejecting a settlement offer from GZK Inc., his lawyer said. GZK owns the Arby's restaurant in Tipp City where he bought the sandwich.

Scheiding, of Troy, said he realized something wasn't right when he bit into the sandwich on June 18 and found a piece of flesh about three-fourths of an inch long.

"It looked like I was seeing fingerprints on it," he said. "I got sick and went to the bathroom."
Miami County health investigators talked to the restaurant manager, who had a bandage on his right thumb and wore a latex glove, according to a health district report. The manager said he sliced skin from the thumb while shredding lettuce, and sanitized the area but didn't throw away the bin of lettuce, the report said. Scheiding's sandwich contained lettuce.

"Why wasn't the food searched, and why wasn't it thrown away?" said Scheiding's lawyer, Hank Hyde.

Christine Koeller, vice president of marketing and communications with GZK, said what happened was unintentional.

"(The manager) did destroy product that was in and around the slicer immediately, and did everything that he thought was appropriate to do," Koeller said.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

LAMBCHOP vs. BEG....The Verdict Is In!!

If you've missed the previous case notes, please click for Lambchop's Accusation, and click for BEG's Argument.

The 17 anonymous jury members have completed their deliberation and made their final decision. The verdict is...GUILTY!!! BEG is trying to kill Lambchop!!

Here's the tally:

Definitely 5 (29%)
Probably 5 (29%)
Not Likely 4 (23%)
Definitely Not 3 (17%)

BEG is thereby charged for this reprehensible act.
This case is closed.

A special thanks to Rainmayun for validating the results.

The Prosecution Rests.
The Defense Eats Dirt.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

???????????

Friday, April 08, 2005

Rebuttal/Defense

*********Before reading this please read prior post by Lambchop: "Murder Attempts & Rhythmless Salsa?"**********

Rebuttal / Defense
April 7, 2005

To Whom It May Concern,

First and foremost I categorically deny any and all accusations made by my accuser (AKA Chops). Furthermore, I demand that any further defamation of my character cease and desist or legal action will be taken. At no time have I attempted or considered assaulting, molesting, hurting, murdering or otherwise harming my accuser. I would also like to present evidence substantiating my innocence in this matter.

Prior to the accusers arrival at my residence she called and demanded that accommodations be made for her sleeping arrangements. She stated that she was very tired and needed a nap. She also said that the her “tape worm” was screaming, “It burns! It burns!” (in the voice of Smeagol from Lord of the Rings) because it was hungry and needed food. Chops then left her place of employment with a 20 minute estimated time of arrival. Being the good friend that I am, I defrosted some fish in preparation for this event. Chops has a history of tardiness and in her usual manner arrived 1 hour and 20 minutes after the conversation (at 6 pm…the exact time I planned to leave for class). She stormed into my residence without a hello, walked directly to the kitchen and yelled “Where’s my food women!” I explained that I didn’t want her food to get cold so I delayed cooking until her arrival. She then stomped off to my bedroom and slammed the door. Due to her tardiness I was forced to cook the meal at an accelerated rate causing a slight oversight on my part (baking would have taken longer than steaming). This factor is solely to blame for the under cooked condition of her fish, not any type of foul play or lack of cooking ability as originally indicated by my accuser. The girth around my mid-section should attest to my cooking abilities. Furthermore, I wish to submit that I never stated that I wished to kill my accuser, only that I was not totally opposed to the idea.

Next I wish to address the event in question at the Salsa club. I am not to blame for the unfortunate occurrences that evening. At no point did I sign a contract accepting responsibility for the welfare of the accuser. As stated by Chops I was dancing during the alleged assault perpetrated by “Mr. Galactic Enterprise”. I was unaware of the accusers disturbing situation and therefore unable to render any assistance (besides laughing). Chops also failed to mention the “Mr. Galactic Enterprise” weighed less than 105 lbs. soaking wet. My accuser is small but strong and wiry. I believe that if she was uncomfortable with the level of contact with “The Acorns” as she calls them she could have made good use of her knee (or foot/heel)as suggested by Kashasta. I submit that Chops possibly enjoyed the activity, then later realized she had been victimized. After this occurrence I ushered Chops to a couch where she did in fact proceed to curl into a ball and rock for the next 15-20 minutes. I interpreted this action as an attempt to come down from the orgasmic level of ecstasy she achieved during her “dance of love”. I did not at the time realize that she was in some strange form of shock.

Chops my dear, I owe you nothing! Nada! Got it. From this day forward your incessant demands for food shall go ignored. In fact…if you were starving and I had a full plate of uneaten/ unwanted food I would sooner throw it away than give it to you. Also, to ManNMotion…I think the torture of dancing with smelly, dirty nail/rough hand having, possible parole, “Chicken Man” more than makes up for anything I could have ever done to Chops (my feet still haven’t heeled from that terrible experience!).

This correspondence should address all topics covered in the accusers defamatory statement. Any further questions or comments should be directed to my legal team
C/O: I’ll sue your a**! At 111 You Suck Dr., Looser, Ca 55555.

Respectfully Submitted,
(Chops you know I luv ya!)

~B.E.G~

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Murder Attempts & Rhythmless Salsa??!!!

Okay I know this is way too long, so if you have a short attention span (like Beg & Ja-me) please feel free to only read the bolded lines to get an idea of the post.

Yesterday evening Beg and I went to our first Salsa lesson!

First off let me say that Beg is a great friend! I told her I would come to her house before the class, but she better make me something to eat before we leave for the lesson. To my surprise, when I got to her house she had pulled out the salmon (that she caught herself) and a baked potato just for me!!

When I woke up from my minute nap to her screaming at me, I had a full plate! The potato was excellent (great job Beg!), but the salmon tasted a little…different. I usually broil my salmon and she steamed hers so I figured I was just not used to the steamed taste. Then I reasoned that since I usually buy my salmon in nice neat little frozen blocks from Costco, it could just be that I’m not used to the taste of “fresh” salmon.

Never did it enter into my mind that Beg was actually trying to kill me until I decided to stop picking at the top layer of the fish and just slice down the middle. To my horror the fish was totally raw!!! When I inquired of her why she would serve me ‘not even half cooked’ salmon, she just grinned and said, “I’m trying to kill you”. Okay well maybe she wasn’t that blunt, but she didn’t deny that her motive was to kill me when questioned further!!!

SALSA!!
At our lesson we noticed right off that there were no people of the Latino heritage in the class. Straight away I began to doubt his ability as a teacher. If you go into a Mexican restaurant and there are no Mexicans, wouldn’t you be hesitant to eat there? Better yet, if there are absolutely NO black folks eating in a soul food restaurant, shouldn’t you high tail it outta there so that you don’t run the risk of hurling the flavorless collards into the owners face? The only exception I think is Chinese food. If you go to a Chinese food restaurant and there are ONLY Chinese people there, you better not even sit down. It’s quite possible that you’ll be served something with boiled eyeballs and toes in it.

Back to the class-
The teacher was okay. We went over the basic steps then partnered up. This was the worst part of the class. Beg was coupled up with a bona fide black chicken man. This is a rare breed of black man that has the rhythm of a chicken…shuffling his chicken feet across the room at an uneven pace…jerking his head haltingly back and forth in true chicken fashion.

Beg wasn’t the only one who had a horrible partner. Almost every man in that class had no rhythm, with the exception of (now get this) the white guys in the class!!! Every single white guy (though a little stiff in movement) had more rhythm than the black, Pilipino, and unidentifiable men in the class!! I was beyond shocked, mostly because the black men happened to be the absolute worst in the rhythm department!

I have a new theory: Many people, born for whatever God given reason with no rhythm, have the impression that they can go to a class and learn the technical steps, thereby voiding out the fact that they have absolutely no rhythm. This is simply not true!! The fact is that the rhythmless male dancer is the most dangerous! They prowl the night clubs for unsuspecting rhythm having lady dancers, appearing to be “the real rhythm deal”. The female has no idea what hit them. One minute they have their hopes up that this dance will be the dance of a million fires, the next minute they’re stuck on the dance floor looking like a dayum fool!

See, in Latin dance the man leads and the woman follows, thereby leaving the woman to suffer an entire song dancing off beat if the man is in denial about his rhythmless nature. It’s truly not fair. I think there should be a rhythm test before you can enter a club. This test will result in either a green wrist band (rhythm approved), or a red band (WARNING>>>Rhythm deficient!!). This way the rhythmless dancers can couple with each other and the rhythm having dancers can dance together…OR the rhythmless male with the red band will know that if he asks the woman with the green band to dance, that SHE will need to lead in order to keep the beat.

Anyways, Beg and I have paid for 4 consecutive lessons so we have to keep going. Maybe it’ll get better. Maybe more men will come and they will miraculously have rhythm! Maybe not. Either way, it was cool to get started learning more SALSA and laughing at all the people in the so called “advanced” class. Keep your eye out. Beg and I may be coming to salsa in a local dance club near you!

P.S. I know this is long but I have to recount my first experience in a Salsa club a few weeks ago with Beg and my friend J.

I love salsa clubs! It was so different from the mauling you usually receive at regular dance clubs. There’s structure and sexiness, and lots of spinning!! The only bad experience I had was with this African guy. I still have a problem with retelling it because I was sooo traumatized...hell I’m STILL traumatized!

I had just finished dancing with some really fun guys and then this African guy comes up to me and asks to dance. I was having a ball so I was glad to try all of the moves again. It started up cool. The live music was fast paced and kicking! He took us through the basic steps and then into a quick turn.

Next thing I knew he had me in this tight embrace. My arm was pinned to his chest. I guess you could say we were dancing cheek to cheek. I tried to pull back but he had a really firm grip on me. The more I pulled the tighter his grip got. I figured that I could deal with it for just one song…that is until I began to feel something sliding up and down on my leg. This fool was actually grinding his “Galactic Enterprise” (I’m writing this at work) on me!

Not in a discrete “oh this is just my way of getting into the music” type of way, no! This fool was out and out molesting my leg. I immediately pushed my butt out so that his “acorns” could no longer attain pleasure from my leg.

I caught the eye of Beg who was dancing near me. I kept motioning with my eyes and mouthing for her to please come help me. That bastard girl refused to help me!!! She just looked at me and started cracking up laughing at me!!! She looked as though she was going to bust a gut. I gave her the finger with my free hand and told her where she could go (she later told me that the guy she was dancing with told her that he thought I may need some help, and she told him that she thought it was funny and started to laugh! Bastardo!!!).

Finally the song ended and he thanked me for offering up my innocent leg for him to sodomize and walked away. THEN Beg ran up to me and grabbed my arm. She said she wanted to make sure that he didn’t try to dance with me again…what a jerk!! Now that I was out of that fools Kung-Fu Grip I didn’t have any need for her sorry-ace help! He’d already finished doing his bid-ness on me. Too late now, I was already tainted.

What a friend! She continued her brutal laughing as she watched me walk over to our seat…curl into a ball…and rock slowly back and forth while trying to forget the feeling. Ha Ha Ha. Very funny Beg. Very funny.

You know what? After revisiting that incident, the fact that you baked me a potato means nothing! NOTHING!!! If anything you OWE me a lifetime of potatos!!!

Always in love…unless you’d leave your friend to be molested on the dance floor by an obvious rapist while she’s calling out to you in angst for help. Bastard!

Lambchop~

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Random

"I was just awakened by unfamiliar African American footsteps outside my window!" -anonymous citizen-

WTF kind of stupidity is that? What exactly do African American footsteps sound like? Is each step accompanied by a chorus of Little John's screaming "What!" Does the smell of chicken and watermelon waft through the air prior to said African Americans arrival? Common sense should tell you that it's normal to hear footsteps if you live in an apartment building...Some people are so ignorant!

Another short work story.... Apparently an elderly female (in her late 80's) has been spotted (on several occasions) choking and kicking ducks. Yep, you heard me right. Somehow she's been able to run them down, catch them, and then she chokes the shit out of em'. Maybe she's just catching dinner.

Last one (I promise), Some guy (who happened to be hospitalized and confined to a wheelchair) decided that he needed a drink...so what did he do? Call his nurse? Nope, to easy. Go to the bathroom and drink out of the faucet? No, wrong again. He decided to climb into his wheelchair, roll down to the nearest liquor store, and buy himself a bottle of Remy. Oh, I forgot to mention that he was wearing a grey jacket, his backless hospital gown, and nothing else. When approached by authorities he refused to go back to the hospital. Nice.

If you want to hear a dumb ass in action click here.

I'm stuck. I feel like I've been in a holding pattern for the last four years. Nothing changes. Same people, same places, same job, same shit I guess. I'M SO BORED!!! I'm not really complaining...Well I guess I am but damn, is this it? Anyway, to break up all the monotony I have decided to take salsa lessons. After my last attempt at salsa I don't harbor much hope for success but I guess I've got nothing to loose. I'm also starting marathon training this week.

Exactly how many times do you have to tell someone you're not interested before they get the point?

I think I've forgotten how to flirt (or perhaps I never knew how in the first place). I guess I should work on it since I've decided that my dating hiatus (scheduled to last until the end of the year) is officially over. I think spring fever is kicking in.

I may have mentioned at some point that I'm in the process of locking my hair. Well, four months have passed since I began this process and my hair refuses to lock. According to my not so knowledgeable loctician it's not coarse enough and he claims that he needs to add some synthetic hair for it to lock. That is utter BS! That would defeat the whole purpose of going Napptural. I decided that I was fed up with his incompetence and found another stylist. She's a little strange in an "all natural/ juices and berries" kind of way but from what I've heard she's good at what she does. Here we go again.

I am lovin the newest Zapp Mama Ancestry in Progress, Tweet It's Me Again (although not as much as the first), Teedra Moses Complex Simplicity, and Donnie The Colored Section CD's.

I'm considering moving almost 2 hour away from work (each way) so that I can afford to buy a new house. If I stay in the bay area all I can swing is a VERY very small older 1 bedroom condo. If I move outside of the bay I can afford a brand new 3 bed 2 bath.... decisions , decisions ...What do you think?

Part of the reason I haven't been writing much lately is that I don't have anything important to say. Can't you tell?

Thursday, March 31, 2005

THE OFFICIAL SLAP YOUR CO-WORKER DAY!

Tomorrow is the official Slap Your Irritating Co-workers Holiday:

Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't give a damn about? Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you? Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their mouth and see what your boss had for lunch? Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious, when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?

Well, on behalf of Ike Turner, I am so very very glad to officially announce tomorrow as SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY!

There are the rules you must follow:

  1. You can only slap one person per hour - no more.
  2. You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day.
  3. You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant.
  4. No weapons are allowed...other than going upside somebody's head with a stapler or a hole-puncher.
  5. CURSING IS MANDATORY! After you have slapped the recipient, your "assault" must be followed with something like "cause I'm sick of your stupid-a$$ always messing up stuff!"
  6. If questioned by a supervisor [or police, if the supervisor is the irritant], you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE!

Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of and get to slapping.....and have a great day!!

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