The Queen, however, mentioned something about Pez dispensers.
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Entertainment. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Oddities: Lingerie
I present this without further comment:
The Queen, however, mentioned something about Pez dispensers.
The Queen, however, mentioned something about Pez dispensers.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
On This Episode of Cops...
..., do stupid things and win stupid prizes.
So, yesterday, I was on my way home from work minding my own business cruising along I-20 westbound between I-45 and I-35 in south Dallas. I was in the second lane from the right with the cruise control set at the speed limit plus or minus a skosh. Traffic was surprisingly light for the middle of rush hour with the nearest vehicle being a pickup in the far right lane about five car lengths back. Then, I heard the telltale sound of a crotch rocket in high revs. I was expecting him to come up on my left as those lanes were clear; however, he blows by at about 80 miles an hour on the right shoulder.
I thought to myself, "Self, that's odd."
I couldn't tell what make or model bike it was. It was all white with at least a 750cc engine (at a minimum based on the size and sound). The brain child in the saddle was wearing white shorts, dark athletic shoes, a t-shirt, backpack and matte black full face shield helmet with the goofy Mohawk ridge along the top.
The reason these details caught my attention was that the rider had gotten off the throttle as he passed me and was looking back over his shoulder in my direction making me think he was giving me the stink eye for some reason. I was contemplating what I might have done to offend him when things began to become clearer.
As we passed a highway on ramp, a Dallas County Sheriff's Deputy cruiser came charging onto the highway with lights flashing making a beeline for Mr. Motorcycle.
My first reaction was, "Awesome!! Nail his butt." Because, really, how many times has some idiot on a crotch rocket blown passed you at warp nine when there was no popo anywhere to be seen?
Then, the second DCSO cruiser flew passed on my left lights a blazin'. That was the moment that you just KNEW it was on like Donkey Kong. Just after I saw the second cruiser, I looked back to the scene ahead just in time to see Mr. Organ Donor depart from the I-35E southbound exit ramp for the supposedly greener pastures of the grassy median between shoulder and frontage road.
Big mistake. HUGE!.
The first cruiser was hot on Mr. Mensa's tail like white on rice. That's when the dust really started flying. I didn't have a clear view, but I am pretty sure that Mr. Offroad on Slick Tires gave the crotch rocket a little too much go juice resulting, predictably, in the travels of bike and rider becoming separated in what hopefully an epic Wile E. Coyote moment. I say this because there was some tumbling visible through the cloud of dirt and grass flying in the air, and when I finally passed by a few seconds later the bike was in several more pieces than one would expect for a gentle laying down amongst the hillside meadow.
Anyfelon, by this time Mr. Carl Lewis Wannabe was trying to beat the Olympic sprint record in all events at the same time while Deputy #1 had already bailed out of his cruiser and was closing ground fast like there was donuts and bacon in the rabbit's backpack.
Unfortunately, I did not get to see the end of the foot race as I was still driving along my merry way and my view was soon blocked by the traffic on the exit ramp, the ramp itself and the whole scene disappearing in the rear view. My money is on the deputy.
Total elapsed time from "what was that?" to out of sight, out of mind was less than a minute...maybe 30 seconds.
So, yesterday, I was on my way home from work minding my own business cruising along I-20 westbound between I-45 and I-35 in south Dallas. I was in the second lane from the right with the cruise control set at the speed limit plus or minus a skosh. Traffic was surprisingly light for the middle of rush hour with the nearest vehicle being a pickup in the far right lane about five car lengths back. Then, I heard the telltale sound of a crotch rocket in high revs. I was expecting him to come up on my left as those lanes were clear; however, he blows by at about 80 miles an hour on the right shoulder.
I thought to myself, "Self, that's odd."
I couldn't tell what make or model bike it was. It was all white with at least a 750cc engine (at a minimum based on the size and sound). The brain child in the saddle was wearing white shorts, dark athletic shoes, a t-shirt, backpack and matte black full face shield helmet with the goofy Mohawk ridge along the top.
The reason these details caught my attention was that the rider had gotten off the throttle as he passed me and was looking back over his shoulder in my direction making me think he was giving me the stink eye for some reason. I was contemplating what I might have done to offend him when things began to become clearer.
As we passed a highway on ramp, a Dallas County Sheriff's Deputy cruiser came charging onto the highway with lights flashing making a beeline for Mr. Motorcycle.
My first reaction was, "Awesome!! Nail his butt." Because, really, how many times has some idiot on a crotch rocket blown passed you at warp nine when there was no popo anywhere to be seen?
Then, the second DCSO cruiser flew passed on my left lights a blazin'. That was the moment that you just KNEW it was on like Donkey Kong. Just after I saw the second cruiser, I looked back to the scene ahead just in time to see Mr. Organ Donor depart from the I-35E southbound exit ramp for the supposedly greener pastures of the grassy median between shoulder and frontage road.
Big mistake. HUGE!.
The first cruiser was hot on Mr. Mensa's tail like white on rice. That's when the dust really started flying. I didn't have a clear view, but I am pretty sure that Mr. Offroad on Slick Tires gave the crotch rocket a little too much go juice resulting, predictably, in the travels of bike and rider becoming separated in what hopefully an epic Wile E. Coyote moment. I say this because there was some tumbling visible through the cloud of dirt and grass flying in the air, and when I finally passed by a few seconds later the bike was in several more pieces than one would expect for a gentle laying down amongst the hillside meadow.
Anyfelon, by this time Mr. Carl Lewis Wannabe was trying to beat the Olympic sprint record in all events at the same time while Deputy #1 had already bailed out of his cruiser and was closing ground fast like there was donuts and bacon in the rabbit's backpack.
Unfortunately, I did not get to see the end of the foot race as I was still driving along my merry way and my view was soon blocked by the traffic on the exit ramp, the ramp itself and the whole scene disappearing in the rear view. My money is on the deputy.
Total elapsed time from "what was that?" to out of sight, out of mind was less than a minute...maybe 30 seconds.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Entertainment Weekly
As The Queen will attest were she to take an interest in this blog after encouraging this outlet for my creativity, I am the last person you would ever want to ask about anything related to the entertainment industry. I could not care less which celebrity is being arrested for molesting doorknobs while driving under the influence of Chihuahua flatulence this week. I stepped off the "I give a flying flip at a rolling donut" pop culture bus sometime in the '90s and haven't really missed it.
Don't get me wrong, I still enjoy watching television and movies. I can normally identify major actors and their significant filmography without too much stuttering and "What's his name again?" I'm just not emotionally invested in the people or the goings on of Hollywood beyond the characters they portray. To borrow a phrase from another blogger (Jennifer...I think), just shut up and dance monkey.
So, for me to actually feel like something from the entertainment world is important enough to waste time and pixels to comment on should say something. The reason for this detour into gossip columnist territory is the Discovery show Sons of Guns.
SOG ended last season with a cliff hanger. The show's comic relief and heir apparent to the title of chief monkey, Kris Ford, was seen asking permission to date the boss' daughter, Stephanie. Without getting into the dynamic of fishing off the company pier for a moment or the attractiveness of Ms. Stephanie, let's examine the a) lack of gray matter between Kris' ears, or b) the size and composition of his family jewels. He asked his BOSS, a retired MARINE and maker of some serious WEAPONRY with access to untold acres of SWAMPLAND in which to HIDE a body, if he can date the BOSSman's daughter who is a gun nut in her own right. Either there is a "for rent" sign occupying the space inside Kris's skull or he has titanium armored, depleted uranium core cajones living in his boxers.
After having watched all episodes of the show so far, I would have to say that Mr. Ford is not stupid. He may be insane and/or be a love sick puppy, but he has too many cool ideas to be a world class moron. That leaves....
At the end of last season, the bossman, Will Hayden, gave Kris a choice: the job or the girl. I have to admit that I've been waiting for the answer for several months now, and last night was the pay off. Kris, in what I think was an excellent display of respect and humility towards his boss/father of the girl, chose the girl. I don't care who you are, it takes guts to be ready and willing to walk out on a dream job in this economy. To do it for someone you care about, should tell that person and anyone else volumes about your priorities in life.
I hope she appreciates it, and I wish them the best of luck dealing with the pressures of dating in the company pond and the fish bowl of national TV. I'll be watching.
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