Monday, May 19, 2014

Jackson, Home of Two Oblivious Racists

Mrs. Noisewater just got back from a business trip in Jackson, Mississippi and encountered two of the most oblivious racist comments of all time.  She is half Asian, by the way, and apparently they don't often encounter races other than African American and Caucasian.  So you get these sorts of things . . .


While at a restaurant, a man she didn't even know walked up to her table to ask her what other language besides English that she spoke.  When she replied that English was the only language she was fluent in, the man was shocked.  What a crazy assumption.  I would have responded "Klingon," and then spouted off some angry grunts.

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(I was searching for Klingon youtubes, and while there were plenty that made a lot more sense, I had to go with this one because of the pretty girl.  It takes all the way until 3:25 to get to the Klingon part, but good god. she is hot.  Anyway . . .)


Then Mrs. Noisewater is at a meeting in Jackson, and on the way out she drops a pen.  When she bends down to get it a guy actually said, "Oh, I thought you were bowing."  I laughed my damn ass off when she told me that one.

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(Now, are these fellas bowing or looking for their pens?)

Saturday, May 10, 2014

Come to the party! Bring your monkey!

Tamarins are wise wizard partygoers. 
I had an extremely F'd up dream last night.  I'm at this party, and it must have been some sort of BYOM (Bring Your Own Monkey) type of gathering because guests were arriving with all different types of monkeys.  I started to get uneasy and wondering if all those different species of monkeys should be around each other.  It's not that I wanted segregation of monkeys for some sort of political reason, I just feared that if you got Spider Monkeys, Tamarins, Saki, and Marmosets in the same room, you're just increasing the likelihood that some monkeys just wouldn't hit if off, and there would be a giant monkey brawl of epic proportions.  I think some of the folks sensed my trepidation and thought it would be funny to place different monkeys on my shoulders, head, and wherever else a monkey would fit all at once.  The monkeys were tweaking and shrieking a little, not really wanting to be on my shoulder all that much, but I didn't get bit (and getting bit seemed to be the over arching fear I had at the time).

On Ebay.  Sold only to Ape Men.
Things really started to get insane when a guy arrived with a six foot tall upright ape-man.  His face was more ape than man, but he had perfect posture and was dressed in human clothes.  Ape Man had jeans, sneakers, and a sleeveless jean jacket with heavy metal patches on the back (probably a cool Iron Maiden picture), and he had bulging, hairy biceps.  His owner (or buddy?) was saying how cool it was to work out with his monkey-man friend.  Suddenly, 80's metal fan Ape Man darts over to me with lightning speed and bites into my neck.  Blood spurts everywhere, and everyone busts out laughing like this is the funniest thing they ever saw.

Pop Quiz: What show was this guy on?
For whatever reason, it was my job to clean it up the bloody mess on the carpet - my own blood, as if it was all my fault.  And the blood was dark, almost black - the kind where you see that shade in a movie and you just know the guy is going to die.  But the guests weren't at all concerned about me, they just looked down on me while I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the carpet, casually offering advice on what chemicals might get it out during lulls in their conversations with one another, cocktails in hand.  What was really odd was that Ape Man just kept chillin' at the party, and no one seemed the least bit worried that he might bite them next.

What the hell does it all mean?

Monday, May 05, 2014

I work with this woman who I'm not too crazy about, and the more she goes on and on at meetings, the more crazy I start going.  In about three consecutive meetings she has said "strag-e-dies" instead of strategies.  I was screaming inside my head, mad as hell that someone could get over 40-years-old in a professional setting still saying a word that horribly incorrect.  Then "Tragedy" by Bee Gees popped in my head for reasons I at first didn't know, but then I laughed having realized that I was singing "Stragedy!"

Songs pop in my head all the time and crack me up.  There are people I see every day who have no idea that they have their very own theme song playing in my head when they walk in the room.  And it's a good trick that I recommend to keep you from getting too serious and angry at work.  Just assign that awful person a funny song and get through that meeting, humming and laughing to yourself like a crazy person.

Saturday, May 03, 2014

Set Your Blasters To . . . Fun!

I was in a cab on my way to meet some friends at a bar and chatting with my cab driver.  He was lamenting about there being no laser tag in Chicago.  Yes, a grown-ass man who is dying for some laser tag.  They have them in the suburbs because there are more kids out there, but I was telling him that if they had one in Chicago proper, it would need two things.

The sport of laser tag is perfectly integrated.  
1. Booze.  The thing about Chicagoans is that most any activity when coupled with alcohol suddenly becomes doable.  They have a place not far from me where you can learn how to paint, and it's always packed.  You know why?  Because you can bring your own wine, set it next to your easel, and paint happy, drunk trees.

2. It would need a fun gimmick of some kind, and I'm thinking "Star Wars."  Who wouldn't want to play Rebels against The Empire and dress as a bunch of storm troopers and Vader against Han, Luke, and Leia?  And Chewbacca!  Who among you would not put on a hairy wookie outfit, strap on a crossbow, and run around the halls of the Death Star, howling and shooting storm troopers in the face and balls?  And the bar in there could be the Mos Eisley Spaceport Bar!  A guy could drink blue stuff and cut off arms all night long in a place like that.
I swear to God, Greedo.  I will shoot you right in the green penis.
 The cab driver said that was a great idea and asked if I was in marketing.  "No."  I replied.  "I'm just a drunk who knows how to have a good time."