The Obvious

pandas are not morning people

Posted in funny, link by theobvious on May 9, 2010

That’s by Jason Sweeney. He’s fabulous.


rotten tomatoes

Posted in bad, film, funny, the thrilling goings-on by theobvious on July 8, 2008

Hey there. I didn’t get to be a Plus Sized Model today because of rain, so there’s nothing much happening in life. I ought to be working, but I have no brain, oh did I just say that out loud, yes I believe I did, oh no, well what are you gonna do.

So this weekend was ingeniously spent meeting up with my school girlfriends and watching miles of Whose Line Is It Anyway, a show where everything’s made up and they used to have a Lithuanian version, but it wasn’t as funny. Thanks God for the diligent Polish YouTube users who apparently have no lives lots of time on their hands, which they use to subtitle and upload episode after episode of WLIIA. In fact, I’m watching and learning, due to an inborn disease causing my eyes to be drawn of their own accord to any writing of any sort, including the crappy subtitles on complicated movies like Shrek.

And speaking of complicated movies (my, what an elephant elegant segue), we saw You Don’t Mess With The Zohan, don’t ask me why. You know how they say something is burned into one’s retinas? Well, this burned my retinas right off and would proceed to get etched in the brain were it not for the circumstances mentioned above, so it bypassed the empty space inside my head and went out the back like a bullet. Boy oh boy that was one huge, painful waste of time.

By all means avoid watching it, and if you do watch it, don’t come complaining to me because I won’t hear a word about that absolutely horrible, stereotype-spewing, lacklustre (and lack-everything-else for that matter), so below the belt it doesn’t even come up for air, disgraceful crapfest, pardon my Polish.

‘soon’ is its own sentence

Posted in funny, random, silly by theobvious on November 28, 2007

Ever since our return from St. Petersburg I’ve been thinking about the way that city is so young, but has enormous history and cultural value, and I don’t really understand how it all fits into those measly three centuries.

I wonder how it felt to be living in one of the great cities of the world when they were only just built. Imagine all those letters on stone tablets, parchment, and birch barks people sent their friends in the ‘cool’ metropolises (shouldn’t it be ‘metropoli’?):

“Dear Amos,
If you still think your Grandpa was wrong when he decided not to leave Egypt, think again. So you’ll probably marry a shikse. But at least you don’t have to spend day and night lugging stones in Jerusalem. They tell us this will be a city of gold, and bronze, and light. Yeah, right.
Yours, Micael”

“Dearest Patricvs,
I wish yov covld come visit me here. It’s no Rome, obviovsly, bvt Paris has a certain provincial charm. The bagvettes are top notch! I wish there was something cvltvral to do here. Anything, really.
Love yov as always, send books.
xxx, Marc”

“Dear Gladyse,
I am doinge fairly well in Londoun. It’s quite nice here, but those laundry-women everyone keeps talkinge about knowe no newe songs and keep singinge all the same crappe. Sir Tymberlake is so annoyinge.
Thou art myn fairest love, as ever.
<3, Johannes”

“Dear babushka,
Moscow is treating me fine, except it has burned down again. Please tell Mom that I’m out of clean socks.
Love, Vanya”

Ahhh, those were the days. Now all these cities are so intimidating, when every other building is a museum. But there were times they were all just not Constantinople. It’s strangely pleasing to think about that.

festive lights on sale right now

Posted in braces, funny by theobvious on November 20, 2007

So I got home, sat down, and got all poised to rant about my consult with the surgeon today, which determined the need for an investment of roughly $8000. I was also intending to complain about my braces, which come on tomorrow, and the way I keep getting more assignments and less work done.

Then I thought that I don’t want this blog to be a whine-fest. (A wine fest would be appropriate at this time, but we don’t seem to have any.) If I want it to be more fun than Finslippy‘s, bitching won’t do the trick. Jokes are better. Here’s an old one you all know:

A hunter is walking in the woods, and he sees a bear den. He knocks on the door and a baby bear comes out. ‘Hi,’ says the hunter, ‘Is your mommy home?’ ‘No,’ the cub answers. ‘Is daddy home then?’ ‘No.’ ‘Gotcha,’ says the hunter and points his gun at him. ‘GRAAANDMAAAAAAA!’ yells the cub.

Here’s my message, kids: there’s always a Grandma. She’s got claws and a knitting bag, and she is out to get you. Always check your back.

In other news today: spam has become multicultural. I have a Christmas message (Personalized Letters From Santa!) and a Chanukah message sitting in my Bulk Mail folder right now. I’m expecting some Kwanzaa-themed correspondence any minute now.

poetry heals, right?

Posted in funny by theobvious on November 16, 2007

Okay, turns out my husband is not the only whine-controlled entity in the universe. Internet is back. All it took was an annoying blog post. Allow me to compensate for yesterday’s behaviour with this lovely poem by Clive James:

The Book of my Enemy Has Been Remaindered
The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am pleased.
In vast quantities it has been remaindered
Like a van-load of counterfeit that has been seized
And sits in piles in a police warehouse,
My enemy’s much-prized effort sits in piles
In the kind of bookshop where remaindering occurs.
Great, square stacks of rejected books and, between them, aisles
One passes down reflecting on life’s vanities,
Pausing to remember all those thoughtful reviews
Lavished to no avail upon one’s enemy’s book —
For behold, here is that book
Among these ranks and banks of duds,
These ponderous and seeminly irreducible cairns
Of complete stiffs.

The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I rejoice.
It has gone with bowed head like a defeated legion
Beneath the yoke.
What avail him now his awards and prizes,
The praise expended upon his meticulous technique,
His individual new voice?
Knocked into the middle of next week
His brainchild now consorts with the bad buys
The sinker, clinkers, dogs and dregs,
The Edsels of the world of moveable type,
The bummers that no amount of hype could shift,
The unbudgeable turkeys.

Yea, his slim volume with its understated wrapper
Bathes in the blare of the brightly jacketed Hitler’s War Machine,
His unmistakably individual new voice
Shares the same scrapyart with a forlorn skyscraper
Of The Kung-Fu Cookbook,
His honesty, proclaimed by himself and believed by others,
His renowned abhorrence of all posturing and pretense,
Is there with Pertwee’s Promenades and Pierrots–
One Hundred Years of Seaside Entertainment,
And (oh, this above all) his sensibility,
His sensibility and its hair-like filaments,
His delicate, quivering sensibility is now as one
With Barbara Windsor’s Book of Boobs,
A volume graced by the descriptive rubric
“My boobs will give everyone hours of fun”.

Soon now a book of mine could be remaindered also,
Though not to the monumental extent
In which the chastisement of remaindering has been meted out
To the book of my enemy,
Since in the case of my own book it will be due
To a miscalculated print run, a marketing error–
Nothing to do with merit.
But just supposing that such an event should hold
Some slight element of sadness, it will be offset
By the memory of this sweet moment.
Chill the champagne and polish the crystal goblets!
The book of my enemy has been remaindered
And I am glad.

mark the date

Posted in funny, places, random by theobvious on November 11, 2007

Today is Cutting of the Goose Day in Sursee, Switzerland. The original name for that holiday is Gansabhauet. Here’s how the website explains it:
The tradition is related to the fact that interests and taxes were due on Martini day in the middle ages and farmers had to deliver 10% of their crops in town.
What they do is have young men cut a goose from a rope. Blindfolded. That’s it. Delightfully simple. Imagine having a whole big celebration for that.

…Children tugging at their mothers’ sleeves weeks before, whining how they want Gansabhauet already, when o when is it coming? And husbands, sipping their beers, murmuring, ‘About time to start looking at geese, Hans is finally of age. Don’t want Georg telling me our goose is skinny.’ And mothers, lovingly stroking their oldest sons’ hair (mooooom!), thinking about the outfit they’re going to sew them for the occasion.

Ach, small town romance. I’d like to visit Sursee one day. After all, it is the winner of the Wakker Prize 2003! But I’m pretty sure I won’t be going on Dead Upside-down Geese Day.

you got 1 new message

Posted in funny, weird by theobvious on November 10, 2007

Millicent Connors has notified me of the following:

Mine Is Bigger Then Yours !
jelly kelp watery opal.we aerial date jeep grip grid java.
? ado ice oldy…oppose you old.

I am glad to know that God hasn’t abandoned Millicent. It’s crystal clear what exactly Millicent is so proud of. However, I’ve always thought that was a woman’s name. If that is indeed the case, then I am being spammed by an infantile (see first sentence) rambling (see last two) shemale.

Before you have me tagged, I want to add that I don’t have anything against shemales as such! Nor against people of any other gender, or combination thereof. However, I certainly don’t envy them and wouldn’t want to take pills to become like them. Sorry, guys (girls).

I wonder what Millicent is playing at. Is this a valiant attempt to combat society’s stereotypes against her (his) kind of people? Is this email supposed to draw our attention to the fact that everyone could be like Millicent? Is the underlying theme here that of pain and loneliness? Does Millicent just want to make some friends?

We’ll never know. But hey, Millicent, don’t hesitate to write me another email! Or two… dozen… hundred? Oh, I forgot, you already have.