Big Feet, Creepy Fruit, and Ugly Things for your Lawn

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Isn’t it a bit unnerving that doctors call what they do “practice””?  George Carlin.  

I woke up feeling “annoyed” today.  Not sure why.  I got a good night’s sleep–the neighbour’s dog didn’t keep me up howling this time.  You’d think I’d be pleased.  I even got any extra 30 minutes of shut-eye.  But no, I woke up bitchy.  I’m trying my best to conceal this fact.  Especially because I am usually a nauseatingly cheery sort.

Which brings me to another bone of contention.  If someone is a grumpy-gut all the time, we simply shrug it off and say, “Oh, that George.  He’s such a grouch.”  We realize that this is who “George” is and we love him anyway.  (Disclaimer: I don’t actually know any Grumpy “Georges.”)  But, when a usually pleasant person is having an off day and exhibits even the slightest sliver of bad humour, everyone goes on the attack, questioning said person as to why they are in a bad mood.  Isn’t a ray of sunshine allowed a little gloom now and then?  (Not that I am calling myself a “ray of sunshine”…other people call me that.  And modest too).

1)  Let’s face it.  People put really ugly things in their front lawns.  Things that they would never allow in their living rooms.  Hideous little gnomes.  Brightly coloured ceramic toadstools (and you already know how I feel about fungi).  Crystal balls with their paint peeling off perched on plastic pedestals.  It would appear that when it comes to lawn ornaments, tacky is better.

This is actually cheering me up.

Well, now let me introduce you to the ugliest yard “decoration” ever…the BigFoot Garden Yeti.  While there are smaller versions available, it is the life-size model that caught my eye.  Although, how you can make a “life-size” version of something that doesn’t exist is quite puzzling.

This 71 1/2 inch tall, 147 lb. monstrosity will cost you a mere $1495.00 US.  If your garden gnomes have been getting a little too cocky, put them in their place with one of these babies.  Load up your behemoth-sized shopping cart here:

http://www.skymall.com/shopping/detail.htm?c=10519&v=&tab=pd&vendorDirect=false&pid=204248855

I dare you.  Give your gnome a complex.

2)  Which brings me to my next topic.  Why do we call Big Foot “Big Foot?”  (Okay, that was a weird sentence to put into writing).  His feet are big, but are they really THAT Big?

Consider the Guinness World Record holder for the Biggest Feet–Morocco‘s Brahim Takioullah.  He wears a European Size 58, which apparently cannot be found stocked anywhere.  A European size 48.5 is the equivalent of a Canadian/US size 14, so one can only imagine what size this dude takes.

I once knew a guy who was 6’7″ and he always claimed that his “manliness” was in proportion to his height.  Well, if Brahim’s foot size is an indicator of his “manliness,” he will have no shortage of dates.  I mean look at those things!  They’re huge!

3)  Speaking of body parts, welcome to the strangest fruit that I have ever encountered–the Buddha’s Hand (a clever segue, even if I do say so myself).  This citrus fruit is kind of creepy looking–like the hands of a Simpsons  character that has hung out at Mr. Burns Nuclear Power plant a little too long.  Or headless octopuses.  (I always thought it was octopi, but this spell-check program claims otherwise).

Unlike oranges or grapefruits, this puppy does not require any peeling.  You eat the whole thing.  One finger at a time.

Ick.

If you have tried one of these, I’d love to hear about your experience.  And while you’re at it–octopi or octopuses?

Big bugs, Chocolate-covered Tomatoes, and a Game of Wife-slinging

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Go to bed in your fireplace, you’ll sleep like a log.”  Ellen DeGeneres.  

Is it me or are bugs getting bigger and stranger?  Seriously.  I went cycling the other day and something was flying along beside me that looked like an insect (scaly and ugly), but was bird-sized.  I don’t know what the hell this thing eats and, now that I come to think of it, I’m probably better off not knowing.   Disturbing encounters like these always make me imagine the following scenario:

All of the beetles, slugs, grubs, moths, ants, spiders, worms, fleas, flies, and every other bug-related life form in my half acre of property are rounded up and poured into one giant room with white walls and floors.  How big would the pile be?  What “never-seen-before” creatures would I be subjected to?  Would I ever want to step in my lawn again?  Probably not.

Which brings me to the first new fact that I learned today:

1)  I know it can’t help how it looks, but this thing is hideous.  It also looks like something that has walked the earth for millions of years.  In fact, this would be the perfect foe for a resurrected Mothra flick.

I used to think these were June bugs.  Someone in my childhood wrongly taught me this–a cautionary tale for any adult who likes to ply their child with bull@$%&.  June bugs and their cousins the May bug (honest, they exist) are much smaller and benign-looking.

This monster is, in fact, a “Giant Water Bug,” also known as the Lethocerus.  He is basically harmless, unless you are a smaller bug, a frog, a fish, or a salamander.  But, man, he is ugly.  And when he accidentally flies into your garage door, he makes quite the thud.  I guess I should just be thankful it wasn’t my forehead.

2)  I love Japanese inventions.  Remember the square watermelon and the girlfriend’s lap pillow?  Well, here’s a real dandy.

Let’s face it–chocolate is one of the world’s most beloved foods.  And some things make the perfect chocolate companion.  Peanut Butter is my favourite co-flavour.  Some people like chocolate-covered cherries or chocolate with mint.  And right now, Aero has re-introduced their yummy orange-middled chocolate bar.  mmmm.

But, it would seem that the Japanese crave something completely different–chocolate and tomato.  My tender North American senses can’t even imagine what this combo would taste like.  A baby’s diaper springs to mind.

I think this video says it all.  Nothing like sugary tomato soup to brighten your day.

3)  Okay, now let’s leave Asia and head to Scandinavia–Finland, to be exact.  It would appear that for centuries, the Finnish have partaken in a strange, yet jovial ritual–competitive wife-carrying.

Yes, strong male Finns fling their damsels over their shoulders and lug them through an obstacle course that includes water, what appears to be short horse-jumping fences, mounds of sand, and bales of hay.  The winner is the one who completes the course in the fastest time.

Unlike American Reality TV contests like Amazing Race and Fear Factor, this contest does not land the victors a hefty cash payout.  Instead, the prize is beer.  And the amount of beer depends on how much the wife weighs–which in itself causes quite a conundrum.  It’s easier to win with a feather-light wife, but the payout is bigger if she’s failed at Jenny Craig.

TomTom, 5 Little Pins, A Confusing Comic, and the Best Ice Cubes Ever

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in June 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“I got this powdered water – now I don’t know what to add.”  Steven Wright.  

When Mike and I were driving home from Ottawa yesterday, we wound up smack-dab in the middle of two New Hampshire-plated TomTom mapping vehicles.  They had massive metal contraptions on their roofs that looked like 360 degree (I can’t find the “degree” symbol on my keyboard) cameras.  I, of course, had to wave frantically.  How often do you get to be a TomTom sandwich?

The vehicles looked just like this one that was spotted in Colchester, Vermont, which also has New Hampshire plates.  So, somewhere out there, in TomTom’s head office, someone is busily editing out the footage of the stupid red-headed girl frantically flapping her appendages at the green Toyota.  Isn’t that why they have big orange hands painted on them in the first place?  Aren’t they encouraging us to wave?

The great thing about waiting in the doctor’s office for an extended period of time is that I had a huge selection of magazines (albeit ones from several decades ago that sickly hospital hands have touched.  I hope you appreciate the perils I face in the name of knowledge).  Magazines are a great source of useless information.  And I thrive on useless information.  So, here’s what I found out:


1)  The first magazine I encountered was a ratty and aged edition of Canadian Living.  I’m almost certain that many Bubonic humans have coughed and sputtered all over this one.  This isn’t usually my type of fare, but I did manage to find a good pasta recipe (which I surreptitiously ripped out, folded into neat squares, and slipped into my purse).  Oops.  Did I do that?

With my trusty recipe in hand (or in purse), I soldiered on and learned something very interesting…Canadians have invented some pretty cool stuff.

Loyal readers were presented with a poll which contained a list of “5 Cool Canadian Inventions” and asked to vote on what their favourite was.  Here are the results:

1.  Zipper  (Without Canadians, the world would probably have Velcro flies and that would just be weird).

2.  Blackberry  (Sorry, but I’m not a fan of the whole “cell-phone-permanently-attached-to-the-face” craze, so this would be at the bottom of my list.  But it is nice that iPhones have some competition).

3.  Ski-Doo  (No surprise here).

4.  Walkie-Talkie  (The precursor to the cellphone.  Damn, we are to blame.)

5.  5-Pin Bowling  (I voted for this, but apparently, I am alone in my appreciation for this Canadian invention.  But, seriously, it’s way cool!  Smaller balls that fit nicely in little hands.  And, if you grew up on the Flintstones like I did, you will know that the 10-pin bowling ball can inflict all sorts of damage to your foot or to your best friend’s head.  Plus, it is way easier to keep score in the Canuck version.  Even I can manage adding up to 15).

2)  The next little gem comes to you care of Chatelaine magazine.  Again, this isn’t my favourite, but it also added some great recipes to my handbag.  Seriously, who could resist Chicken, Mango, & Brie Quesadillas?  Not this girl.

I have never been a fan of ice cubes.  If a beverage has been in the fridge, I will forego the ice cube every time.  It just makes your drink watery.  If I want a watery drink, I’ll drink water.

Turns out that everyone I know and every restaurant I have ever been to has been making ice all wrong.  To avoid flavour loss, you should make your ice out of the beverage that you will be putting it in.  Having a pitcher of ice tea?  Make ice cube with ice tea.  Who knew?  Like I said–no one.  Such an obvious solution too.

3)  One would think that a highbrow magazine like The New Yorker would be teeming with wonderful gems of knowledge.  Think again.  This magazine, for the most part, gave me a headache.  Seriously.

I remember an episode of Seinfeld in which Elaine struggled to understand a New Yorker cartoon and even after a lengthy discussion with the other characters, she was unable to decipher it.  Well, I now completely empathize with her conundrum.  For the life of me, I don’t get the humour in the comic pictured here.  Okay, so a guy is walking a bowling ball and a woman is walking her pins…10 of them, I might add.  Is this “love is just around the corner?”  Maybe.  Is it funny?  No.  It feels like a feeble and unfunny attempt to enter the bizarre (but humorous) world of Larson’s The Far Side and makes me beg the question–what does it mean?  Will they fall in love?  Or will his bowling ball pound the crap out of her pins?  Please…can someone explain this to me?  Seriously, I didn’t understand a single cartoon in the entire magazine and I really want to comprehend just one.

P.S.  Does anyone know how to do a degree sign in Word?

Bird Feet, Burger Beds, Bad Bites, and an English Lesson

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in June 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“If women ran the world we wouldn’t have wars, just intense negotiations every 28 days.” – Robin Williams

The English language never ceases to fascinate me…must be the English Teacher in me.  Today, I have decided to be awed by words that sound like their meaning.  I know.  This linguistic phenomenon  has a name–onomatopoeia.  Good luck with pronouncing that one, by the way.

When I think of these types of words, my old MAD magazines come to mind.  Those babies were full of them.  Apparently, a knight being pierced by a sword goes “plortch.”  “Ack” is both the sound of people coughing and Native Americans being shot at.  And in a clever play on words, “Barroom” was the sound of a balloon being fired out of a gun in a saloon.

The old Batman TV show wasn’t as clever in its use of onomatopoeia, but it certainly offered quantity–regularly filling the entire screen with brightly coloured font bearing words like “kapow,” “splatt,” and “biff.”

Yes, inflicting bodily harm on someone makes funny noises and I appreciate these writers’ attempts to fully capture the moments.  I, however, am partial to words like mucous, phlegm, puke, or puss.  These words sound like the objects they are.  Fungus, sputum, diphtheria, diarrhoea, and louse are equally effective.

Some words, however, are far too cute for their meanings.  A bunion sounds like a cuddly, little, furry creature that everyone should want.  A carbuncle sounds like it should be fun.  And a dust bunny–well, you get the picture.  Words are weird.

1)  Nature shows disturb me.  Big animals are always chewing on smaller ones and, frankly, I just don’t see the entertainment value in watching that.  I know that it’s a big, bad, cruel world–particularly if you happen to be at the bottom of the food chain–but I prefer to pretend that the creatures in the wild live happily together.  Like the lions and zebras and penguins in Madagascar.  

So, when my husband began watching some big cat schmorgesborg of little furry things, I fled to the television in the bedroom and flicked on something benign like Third Rock from the Sun.  Turns out that I missed a scintillating little documentary about the life of a hummingbird.  Don’t worry though.  I received a complete synopsis over breakfast this morning.

Here are the highlights:

  • Hummingbirds, as we know, were built to fly–fast and furious.  In fact, 30% of a hummingbird’s weight is made up of flight muscles.  They can fly forwards, backwards, sideways and upside-down…upside-down?  Really?  I can’t even sit in the back seat of a car without throwing up.   And they can fly 25-30 mph.  Imagine doing that upside-down.
  • Hummingbirds, however, have very weak feet…an Achilles Heel of sorts.  These feet aren’t made for walkin’…perching, yes…walking, no.
  • And they have a metabolism that every woman would kill for–they can eat up to 8x their body weight every day!  I just look at a Glosette raisin and I gain ten pounds.  And, in order to meet their hefty caloric requirements, they visit an average of 1000 flowers per day.  This raises another question…who the hell is following these birds around and counting flora?  Furthermore, these little birds are FAST.  How do their stalkers keep up?  It all sounds a little fishy to me.

2)  Sometimes the Internet can turn up the most amazing things.  Well, this is not one of them.  But it is a story that sort of touched my heart.  It is the tale of a hamburger bed–a one of a kind–that spent its life in search of a friend.

Apparently, a young woman by the name of Kayla Kromer was a HUGE fan of hamburgers…so much so that she decided to create this hamburger bed. The 8′ in diameter, 3′ high, burger resided with her for 6 years and then, she did the unthinkable…she sold it on e-bay.  The burger moved to Chicago for a year and was put up for auction again.  It even achieved celebrity status thanks to Jay Leno.

Despite its beefcake appearance and fame, the burger bed was still alone in a world of king-sized squares.  And, then, along came Hamburger Harry and the Hamburger Museum.  Here, the Hamburger Bed has found true love in the form of the Cheeseburger Bed–a waterbed burger created by Harry, himself.  At last, Hamburger Bed has found a kindred spirit and he no longer sleeps alone.

3)  Okay, so the next time you are complaining about an onslaught of black flies or mosquitoes, I’d like you to think of this story that is fresh off the presses.

According to Canada.com’s The Province, a village in India has become the target of an attack by a herd (flock, swarm, or whatever it is called) of huge, hairy, venomous spiders.  Twelve people have been treated for bites and there are unconfirmed reports of two deaths.

Even scarier, specialists have no idea what type of spider this is.  It is tarantula-like, but is said to be very aggressive with powerful fangs.  Yikes. It’s not too often you hear “fangs” and “spider” in the same sentence.

Currently, they are fogging and spraying the area with insecticides.  I think I will go outside and hug a Daddy-Long-Legs.

Evil Fungi, Lucky Leaves, Dumb Dogs, and Strange Envelopes

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in June 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devoured by a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.” – Axel Rose

I am always amazed at how quickly mushrooms grow.  We have had weeks of dry weather and after only two days of rain, a plethora of strange looking fungi have sprouted up amidst my Evening Primrose and Columbine.  I’m sorry, but toadstools are sort of creepy.  I’m not sure why.  It could be some latent memory associated with Alice in Wonderland.  Or maybe it is due to a traumatic experience after a grade-three school trip that I had involving toadstools, my peanut butter sandwich, and a Destroyer Angel look-alike.  All I know is that I can’t wait for the hot weather to return and shrivel those freaky fungi up, which raises another question.  Where do they go?  Mushrooms disappear as quickly as they appear.  I told you–they are FREAKY.

1)  It’s funny what we humans consider to be  lucky…a horseshoe, blue herons, the number 7, getting the big end of a wish bone,  finding a penny, and throwing said penny in water.  When you think about it, we are a very strange species, indeed.

Another supposedly “lucky” charm is the four-leaf clover.  Yes, when we spot one of these genetic mutant weeds, we let out a squeal of delight, run to show it to our friends (who will also squeal in admiration of your find), and Google ways to preserve our treasure in a feeble attempt to prolong the length of our good fortunes.  Never mind that you have just ended the life of the poor clover.  Having an extra leaf didn’t prove “lucky” for it, did it?

Anyway, the sermon in church today was about the Trinity, which led to the mentioning of the regular three-leaf variety of clover, which made me want to look up some four-leaf clover facts…my mind works in mysterious ways.  And, no, my mind does not often wander in church.  I am usually a very attentive parishioner.

The four-leaf clover is really a light-weight when it comes to limb-growth.  In fact, Shigeo Obara of Japan holds the Guinness World Record for having the clover with the most leaves.  This sucker is a 56-leaf clover!  He should be the luckiest man on earth.

Plus, finding one or two four-leaf clovers is really no big deal (no matter how loudly you squeal or how many friends you get to squeal with you).  According to the Guinness World Record’s site, Alaska native, Edward Martin Sr., has the largest collection of four-leaf clovers with 111,060 of the little green finds.  I wonder where he keeps them.  He must spend a lot of time crawling around on the ground.  Seriously, the acquisition and storing of over a hundred thousand weeds is a full-time job.  I am very worried about this man.  Doesn’t he run an unusually high risk of succumbing to lime disease?

2)  Everyone thinks their own dog is smart…well, almost everyone.  My neighbour who discovered her Boxer choking on her bra doesn’t exactly brag about her pooch’s I.Q.  But most of us think our Rover or Fido is special.

If you own a Border Collie, your dog probably is special.  It is, after all, the dog with the highest I.Q.

Here are the TOP 10 Smartest Canines:

1.  Border Collie

2.  Poodle

3. German Shepherd

4.  Golden Retriever

5. Doberman Pinscher

6. Shetland Sheepdog

7.  Labrador Retriever

8.  Papillon

9.  Rottweiler

10.  Australian Cattle Dog

Sorry to say, but if you are the proud owner of an Afghan Hound, I hope your dog has loads of personality.  Apparently, he/she is not the brightest biscuit in the box as this breed came in dead last.

3)  I’ve got to admit that licking envelopes seems to get more and more disgusting with every passing year.  What the heck are they putting in the envelope glue, anyway?  I seriously fear ending up like George Costanza’s fiancee, Susan–for those who don’t watch Seinfeld (what is wrong with you?  This is the best show ever), Susan died from licking their wedding invitation envelopes.  As George later explains, they were a really good deal (cheap) and they were expecting a lot of guests.

Well, no need to dread this tongue-straining chore any longer.  In fact, it may become something you look forward to.  J&D’s, the purveyors of everything “bacon,” have introduced bacon-flavoured envelopes.  They even look like bacon–long globs of fat and all.  Only $6.99 for a pack of 25.  http://weirdnews.about.com/gi/o.htm?zi=1/XJ&zTi=1&sdn=weirdnews&cdn=newsissues&tm=36&f=20&tt=33&bt=0&bts=0&zu=http%3A//www.jdfoods.net/

Craving for a late-nite snack?  No worries.  Just get some mail ready and your nocturnal yens will be satisfied.  I wonder if they are cholesterol free.

Underwear for your Hands, Fur for your Tongue, and Blankets for your Security

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“When I die, I want to die like my grandfather who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car.” – Will Rogers

We feed the crows and ravens that live around our house.  In fact, they actually come when I call them.  The neighbours have grown accustomed to hearing me call “Big Bird”…at least, I think they have become accustomed to this.

The thing they are not likely used to is finding weird food items in odd places.  We often give the crows bread with peanut butter on it.  Needless to say, I often see slices of whole wheat basking on my neighbour’s roof.  He has found chicken bones in his gutter, which he finds especially puzzling.  We, of course, play dumb.  And the best, was french fries on top of his cedar hedge.  That was a head-scratcher for sure.

1)  I know that I’ve featured a number of dumb products that are actually available to the public, but this one is special.

At first, I dismissed it as being too stupid to be true.  But, the more I look at them, the more they grow on me. They’re kind of cute.  Probably great for cycling. Who would have thought–tighty whities for the hand!

The website claims they prevent chafing (who gets hand chafing?), distract your enemies (who is this person that is so hated that they must wear attention-grabbing undergarments on their hands?), and are perfect for jazz hands.  So, for a mere $11.95 plus shipping you can do all of the above and more.      http://www.mcphee.com/shop/products/Handerpants.html

2) Okay, I just grossed myself out.  This picture is like a traffic accident.  I don’t want to look at it, but I can’t stop.  And the worst part is that this could happen to any one of us.

This is a condition called “hairy tongue.”  Apparently, in normal circumstances, our papillae are worn down by food and usual mouth activity.  Sometimes, however, the papillae grow longer than normal and become “stained” by food and tobacco.  If I had a tongue that looked like this, I would never leave the house again.

How can I avoid this infliction?  It is caused by the use of antibiotics and is linked to thrush.  And some sources state that it can also occur within 24 hours of taking Pepto-Bismol.

If you should wake up one morning with a furry, black tongue, don’t panic.  It usually resolves itself.  And you can help it along by brushing your tongue twice a day with a soft toothbrush.

I, however, would probably attack the hairy beast with an SOS pad.  And a giant eraser.  Maybe even a Mr. Clean Eraser.  This is truly gross.

3)  Did you know that Charles Schulz is famous for more than just the creation of the beloved Peanuts characters?  He is also responsible for the term “security blanket.”  Cool.  I’d love to invent my own word or phrase, but unfortunately all my ideas are dopey and probably won’t catch on.

Speaking of security blankets, did you have one?  I did.  It was a light green towel with a purple stripe in the middle and its name was “Huggy.”  Huggy did double duty by also acting as my napping blanket in kindergarten.

I wonder where Huggy is now.  I am probably better off not knowing.  He probably didn’t go to his happy place.

The Top Banana, The Monikers, and A Strange Phobia

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“I wonder if illiterate people get the full effect of alphabet soup.”  Jerry Seinfeld.  

I will never grasp evolution.  The idea that mankind is simply a single-celled organism that decided to evolve into something else and so on sounds bizarre to me.  I don’t believe that I have any amoebas in my family  tree…although some of us do appear to function on a single brain cell.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I have nothing against amoebas.  I just don’t see how one can sprout arms and legs and a beard, no matter how many billions of years you give them.

I do admit that apes do have human-like qualities.  Some apes are smarter than some humans, in fact.  And some humans are hairier.  But if man evolved from apes, why are there still apes?  Were those ones too stupid to evolve?

Darwin and his cohorts would have me believe that there was a huge explosion in the blackness that is space.  This explosion supposedly came from nothing.  From that, the universe was created and life appeared on earth–simple life like plankton.  And over millions of years, this plankton turned into all the different species we have today–kangaroos, lizards, elephants, and man.  This sounds awfully random.  And, again, why is there still plankton?

I think it is much easier to believe that we were designed and created by someone who has an endless imagination, masterful artistry skills, and a much firmer grasp on “science” than any human could ever imagine.  I did not “evolve.”  I was created by God.

Of course, I’d love to hear your comments on my little early morning rant. lol.

1) The banana is a neat fruit–it comes with it’s own easy-to-peel packaging, eating one before bed is supposed to help you sleep, and they are just plain funny looking.  And they taste good.

Plus, they come with a built-in practical joke maker…a sticker.  I love affixing it to someone’s forehead and then, distracting them until they forget it’s there.  If you’re really good, your victim will go out in public with the banana sticker smack dab between the eyes.

The best stickers were the face stickers put out by Chiquita a few years ago.  My hubby and I collected them–yes, we selected our bananas based on what faces they wore.  Sometimes, we would take faces off other bunches and come away with a sticker on each yellow fruit.  Those were the days.  I know…it doesn’t take much to make me happy. lol.

If you are a banana fanatic, you may want to visit Mecca, California–home to The International Banana Club Museum, the world’s largest museum dedicated to bananas.  Since it’s creation in 1976, it has collected over 17,000 banana “artifacts” including a banana couch, a Michael Jackson banana, musical bananas, and more.  What the heck is a banana warmer?  The museum also claims that no lewd or crude bananas are allowed–except they spelled lewd “lude.”  This spelling mistake drove me bananas.

2)  A little while ago, we learned that the most common names in 1912 were John and Mary.  So, I wonder what Americans were naming their babies in the 1950s.  Fonzie or Richie?  Laverne or Shirley?

Nope.  According the to U.S. Social Security Administration, the favourite boy’s name of the decade was James, with Michael being the runner-up.  The winning girl’s name was Mary (which was also the leading name in 1912), with Linda coming in second.

3)  I recently encountered a fact that is funny, but a little sadistic.  Lots of people have phobias–some of them are understandable like the fear of snakes or heights.  I like snakes, but I can see how some people would find them unnerving.  I’m not a fan of heights.  It’s a good thing I’m short.  I stood on a stool once to see what it felt like to be my husband’s height and I got nauseated.

Some phobias, however, are a wee bit on the strange side.  For example,  arachibutyrophobia is the fear of peanut butter becoming stuck to the roof of one’s mouth.  I could see this being problematic for people without hands or tongues, but why would they put peanut butter on the roof of their mouths, anyway.  Euphobia is the fear of good news.  My head just exploded.  Seriously, you hate “good” news?  This is not someone that I want to spend a lot of time with–talk about a downer.

This brings me to the sadistic.  Imagine that your phobia is a fear of long words.  Now imagine that someone has asked you what your phobia is called and rather than answering the question you have run out of the room screaming.  Why?  Because some sadistic bastard with a sick sense of humour named your phobia “hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.”  Nice, eh?

The Not-Black Box, When Second is First, and The Pee that Wasn’t

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“That guy impressed me and I am not easily impressed. Wow! A blue car!”  Homer Simpson.

I love summer.  Sunshine, flowers, flip flops.  Seriously, what’s not to love.  Well, maybe one thing.  Zits.  I am a giant, red pimple.  You may be wondering what the connection is between summer and zits, so let me explain.  Summer warmth and outdoor activity leads to increased perspiration in most people–and I am an expert sweater (someone who sweats, not a warm woolly garment).  And I sweat best on the lower half of my face.  For the next three months or so, I will have a blemish beard.  I can’t believe I waited all winter for this.

1)  A friend of mine sent me an e-mail today with a trick question in it.  What colour is a plane’s black box?  One would think it would be black.  Turns out that it is actually orange–a colour that probably makes it easier to find in a pile of rubble scattered over a vast area.  So, why don’t they just call it what it is–an orange box?  Actually, it isn’t really a box.  It’s more of a rectangle.  It should be an orange rectangle.

One theory, according to Wikipedia, is that the “black box” actually refers to the inside of the box.  In early days, darkness was required to prevent light from entering the box and compromising the film-based records.

We may never know with great certainty how it’s colour-blind name came about.  All I know is that it’s a good thing I’ve never been sent out to retrieve a black box.  I’d still be out there looking for something that doesn’t exist.

2)  Quick question…what is the most common street name in the United States?  I’ll rattle on aimlessly for a few paragraphs while you think about this.

I’ve lived on lots of different streets.  Some had royal names like King, Queen, and Palace.  I think these names were meant to make we apartment dwellers feel important.  Some were named after trees–ElmRidge, Birchwood, and Cedarwood–even though none of them had a significant number of elms, birches, or cedars.  My personal favourites didn’t make any sense either, but they sounded nice–Sandcastle (miles away from any water…and even more miles away from a decent beach)and Alta Vista (my “vista” was the post office and the bus transit route–not exactly “alta,” but words that end in a vowel are prettier, so the name was pretty x2).

I’d love to hear any street name stories that you’d like to share, by the way.

You’ve been very patient with me, so I’ll now reward you with the answer to the question.  The most common street name in the U.S. is (drum roll please)….Second.  Yes, not First, but Second.  Weird.  The Second most common street name is Third.  And First is Third.  This is starting to sound like a baseball joke.  Ironically, Fourth is fourth.

3)  I watch Dragon’s Den and Shark Tank and I know that some people have some really stupid ideas.  Thankfully, the wise investors from the Den and the Tank can smell stupidity a mile away.  Unfortunately, the people at “Jaloop,” a company which claims to provide the public with products that are unlike anything else available, thrive on stupid products.

Meet Exhibit A.  The Pee Puck.  This is no ordinary urinal puck.  This doesn’t clean the toilet–it dirties it.  Apparently, this gag gift is designed to make people laugh.  Excuse the pun, but this product would just piss me off.

According to peepuck.com (yes, it has it’s own website), you place the puck in the reservoir and it will create pee-coloured water for days.  Your intended victim will go nuts wondering why they keep forgetting to flush.  Maybe they will think someone has been sneaking in to use their toilet.  Or maybe, they’ll call in the City Works Department to see what’s wrong with their water.  Either way, I’m sure they will really appreciate all the “laughter” you created with this wonderful gift.  Where’s Kevin O’Leary when you need him?

Flying Fish, Old Toads, Newfie Horses, and A Joke or Two

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“If you’re too open-minded; your brains will fall out.”  Lawrence Ferlinghetti.  

UGH!  I am one giant mosquito bite.  The worst is the one on my butt cheek.  Nothing more embarrassing than being caught scratching your ass.  I keep having to stop typing, so I can drag my nails across it.  Hence, the short sentences.

I’m not quite sure what purpose the mosquito serves.  I know…they are a food source for birds, other bugs etc.  But there are lots of small, flying insects that don’t give those of us at the top of the food chain giant, itchy welts.  Why must we have ones that bite?  And spread West Nile?  I know.  Who am I to question God and His infinite wisdom?  Sorry God.  I’m just really itchy.

1)  Let’s face it.  The “land down under” is a unique and wonderful place.  It’s hard for we Canadians to imagine a road trip filled with koala and kangaroo sightings, picking a fuzzy kiwi fruit off a tree, or mastering our boomerang throw.  In comparison, we seem boring.  Beavers, moose, maple syrup taps, and hockey pucks.

Our festivals are ordinary too–winter carnivals and plough matches.  You never hear a Canadian say, “had a great time flinging fish last night, mate!”  Why is this?  Unlike our Australian counterparts, we have never truly learned to appreciate the skill and finesse required to participate in a good, old-fashioned “Tuna Throwing Contest.”  Who needs a Noble prize, an Oscar, or Olympic Gold when one can achieve true greatness by becoming the official Banska Tuna Toss World Champion!

I wonder how this tradition came about?  Was someone suddenly overcome with the need to fling a fish?  Maybe some poor children deprived of water balloons were forced to resort to pelting one another with seafood.  Who knows?  (I’d love to hear your theories).

Either way, it breaks my heart to know that somewhere in this fare land there is a small boy whose fish chucking abilities will go to waste.  Pity.

2)  Today was a very “toady” day at our house.  In fact, without trying, my husband and I encountered four of the bumpy looking creatures in various parts of our yard in just a couple of hours.

He was trying to get one to move into a cuter picture pose (well, cute for a toad) and I said that we had probably scared weeks off the poor thing’s life.  Surely, a toad couldn’t have YEARS shaved off it’s life!  Turns out that I was highly mistaken.

According to BBC and many other sources, the common toad can live for up to 40 years.  Yes “four-zero.”  Who knew?  A pet toad is a much wiser investment than your French Poodle or your Tabby Cat.

Okay… I will have to put you on hold for sixty minutes.  Must go watch  Howard Stern on American’s Got Talent.  

I’m back.  Thanks for waiting.  Here’s a joke from Tom Cotter, NYC stand-up comedian and AGT hopeful…””I used to go over and bounce on my neighbor’s tramparlene. Yeah, their daughter’s name was Arlene.” Haha.

3)  The Weather Network has the best polls, but then again, I love polls.  Any chance to give one of my many strong opinions is A-okay in my books.  Yes, I wear flip-flops.  I think our summer will be hot and humid (which really is a no-brainer).  No, I’m not afraid of thunder storms.  These are all easy questions and I was quick with my answers.  But then I came across one that stumped me–does Newfoundland have its own breed of pony?  I correctly hazard a guess and say “yes.”  It only makes sense.  Why put “Newfoundland” and “pony” in the same sentence unless it is true?

Turns out that our ultra-friendly, joke-providing, good-natured neighbours from the east also boast an equestrian treasure–the Newfoundland Pony.  Who knew?

They are noted for their strength, stamina, and the fact that they are easy to keep.  I would tell you their height, but it was stated in a unit that I am totally unfamiliar with–“hh.”  If you know what “hh” is, let us know in the comment box at the bottom of the blog page.  It would be greatly appreciated by us all.

Well, I’ve never met a Newfie that I didn’t like, so I’m sure their ponies are loveable little creatures too.

And one last Tom Cotter joke:

On the morning of my 16th birthday my family tried to surprise me with a car…but they missed.

Tainted Mayo, Candles for Men, A Dumb Car, and A Big Nose

Posted by facelikeafryingpan in May 2012 and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”  Woody Allen. 

One of my friends has a t-shirt that says “I see stupid people.”  This is brilliant.  And, unfortunately, quite true.  Needless to say, I encountered one of these “stupid” people in the grocery store.  I should have known that this woman was not rocket scientist material when I saw her hovering over the expired mayonnaise in a clearance cart.  Expired mayo is the last thing this girl would ever eat…my mama didn’t raise no dummies.

Apparently, I am not alone in these thoughts as another bystander openly expressed her disgust over the toxicity of ancient egg products.  She told the mental midget that there was no way she would buy expired mayo, no matter what price it was.  The “stupid person” then said that she doesn’t worry about stuff like that at all.  In fact, her mayonnaise at home is well past its “best before” date and it’s fine.  And then she said something that got the other shopper and I retching and gagging in unison.  Her exact words were “I don’t even keep my mayo in the fridge.”  To which my cohort and I said, “you mean before you open it, right?”  And stupid woman replied, “No, I never keep my mayo in the fridge.”

This is why I hate potluck dinners.  I do not want to eat a dish prepared by a stupid person.

1) With Father’s Day coming up, I thought that this strange new product line was apropos.  The familiar Yankee Candle company has introduced the MAN CANDLE–yes, candles for men.  Why should candle-loving males be forced to endure feminine scents like lilac blossoms, butter cream, or lemon lavender?  While I, personally, have never heard any men complaining about the rampant sexism in the candle industry, obviously someone somewhere was feeling neglected.

Well, no need to worry now.  Yankee Candle has you covered with masculine fragrances like: 2X4 (does this smell like Home Depot?), First Down, Man Town, and my personal favourite, Riding Mower (which is supposed to smell like a freshly mowed lawn).

And if you think that’s impressive, I discovered another butch candle retailer called “Mandle Company” that carries a truly unique line of scented waxes–Stogie, Camp Breakfast, Campfire smoke, Kegger, and Pizzeria–just to name a few.

2)  If your dream car involves largeness or luxury, this probably isn’t for you.  I met this automotive oddity on an episode of Storage Wars.  On this particular episode, the ever-creative (and, in my opinion, yummy piece of eye candy), Barry Weiss, recruited a little person equipped with a pair of stilts and night vision goggles.  The now 7′ tall dwarf spotted a round piece of glass in the back of a unit and jumped for joy (carefully due to the stilts and all) and announced that it was likely a huge aquarium.

Barry, always willing to take a gamble, was the high bidder.  Needless to say, it wasn’t a large aquarium–but a small aquarium-like car.  In a storage locker.  Behind a pile of boxes.  And a mattress.

Welcome to the BMW Isetta–a 1950s “bubble” car.  Yes, it is not your imagination.  The only way in and out is through the nose–yup, a great safety feature, particularly after a front-end collision.  But no need to worry.  BMW has you covered.  If you should find your  exit blocked by a wayward vehicle of normal proportions, you should simply crawl out through the sun-roof.  I’m too short for this.  It’s likely that I could barely reach the top of the car, let alone pull myself out of it.

But I am not worried.  For one thing, I do not want a car that is shaped like a football–and is approximately the same size.   Furthermore, as I gaze at this feat of automotive genius, I realize that getting out after a head-on collision isn’t really a major concern.  You’d probably be dead anyway.  Even if said collision was with a wayward Junebug.

3)  Notice anything “outstanding” about the man in this photo?  Does anything “jump” out at you?

According to the people at the Guinness World Records, he is the proud owner of the largest nose on the planet.  That’s nothing to sneeze at.

Mehmet Ozyurek of Turkey has a honking huge proboscis–measuring in at 3.46 inches from the bridge to the tip.  Isn’t he the nosy one?

And one last pun…now you “nose” more than you did before.  I’ll have to beg your forgiveness for that one.