Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 640

I just dont know guys this cool

But I really wish I did. 

Huh?

There are some things that restaurants should always have on hand. 

My daughter may be in communication with aliens

Yesterday morning Clara began systematically removing balls from the ball pit and placing them in various kitchen accouterment.

 

Later in the day, at her birthday party at her aunt's house, she did this:

 

Remember Richard Dreyfuss's character and his obsession with Devil's Tower in Close Encounters of the Third Kind?  Dreyfuss's character spent hours creating models of a mountain that he had never seen before, in potting soil, clay and most famously, mashed potatoes.  Until he saw an image of the mountain on a news broadcast, he had no idea what he was doing or why.

For those of you not familiar with the film, Devil's Mountain was the ultimate landing site of the alien spaceship.

Clara's behavior with the balls and the pretzels reminded me of Close Encounters of the Third Kind.  Inexplicable, seemingly obsessive, varying in medium, and yet somehow somehow methodical and with a sense of order and purpose as well.

Maybe it's a sign?  

My wife, who is afraid of aliens and even the thought of them, will not be happy to hear my suppositions.

Sometimes shes a little too witty

I'm reading Stephen King's new short story collection, ALL DARK, NO STARS.  The final story in the book is about a woman who discovers that her husband of twenty-five years is a serial killer.

Pretty creepy.  The guy is an accountant, a father and a Cub Scout leader.  And apparently the brutal killer of young women.

I told Elysha earlier today that I never want to find out that she is a serial killer.

"Don't worry," she said.  "You'd never find out."

Amusing.  But a little creepy, too. 

The best kind of consolation

My DJ business, the occasional book appearance, and yes, the Patriots home games will sometimes keep me away from home at bedtime, and oftentimes for much of the day. 

Knowing I miss my girls, my wife sends me goodnight videos, including this one, recorded after last week's otherwise unspeakable Patriots loss.

If I could get a video like this every time I was away from home, I might stay away a little more often. 

The best kind of consultation

My DJ business, the occasional book appearance, and yes, the Patriots home games will sometimes keep me away from home at bedtime, and oftentimes for much of the day. 

Knowing I miss my girls, my wife sends me goodnight videos, including this one, recorded after last week's otherwise unspeakable Patriots loss.

If I could get a video like this every time I was away from home, I might stay away a little more often. 

Snow day

There's about three or four feet of snow on our front lawn, and with it have come a bunch of snow days. 

I have many colleagues who loathe the snow day, hoping for a longer summer respite when the weather is better and our classrooms heat up, but I have always lived my life with the belief that I could be dead by June so I'll take my days whenever I can get them.

Despite the near universal belief that human beings should live each day as if it were our last, family and friends still scoff when I express this belief, perhaps because they find it so difficult to imagine death before June.

Having died not once but twice, this is much easier for me to imagine.

And besides, if a snow day can give me pictures like this, I'll take as many as I can get!  

Not sure how to feel about this.

I felt utterly torn when I first watched this banned Super Bowl commercial that pits Jesus against President Obama. 

My initial reaction: 

I'm glad they banned this commercial from the Super Bowl.  Ultra-conservative craziness has no place at a football game.  Especially the biggest football game of the year.   

But then I thought:

Actually, isn't it anti-capitalistic to ban a commercial like this?  Why not let the moron make a buck off his Jesus Hates Obama tee-shirts, as long as he is willing to pay the million dollar price tag for the ad? 

Then I thought:

Can a tee-shirt company really afford a Super Bowl ad?  Or is this just a clever publicity stunt by the tee shirt manufacturer?

Then I thought:

Obama's favorable numbers are well over 50 now and still rising.  From a political perspective, a commercial like this might further galvanize his liberal base and may swing moderates in his direction by illustrating the lunacy of the far right wing.  This commercial might actually help our President in ways that no one has anticipated.

Then I thought:

I feel bad for my Republican and religious friends.  Ideas like the ones being espoused by this commercial cast my friends' political parties and religious institutions in a bad light.  

Then I thought:

It really is hard to be a Republican.

Then I thought:

Why do I even care if this commercial pits Jesus versus Obama?  As an atheist, the Jesus versus Obama fight is nothing more than placing an enlightened  philosopher from 2,000 years ago in opposition to a modern day political leader.  The idea is not blasphemous.  It's just silly and stupid.  But it would be no different than pitting a Thomas Aquinas or a Aristotle bobble head doll against an Obama bobble head doll. 

Then I thought:

Actually, whether or not Jesus was the Son of God or merely an enlightened man, I am fairly certain that he would not approve of the message in this commercial or emblazoned on the tee shirts.  How many times have we seen so-called believers defend of their God in ways that their God would fervently condemn? 

Then I thought:

I have to admit that the commercial is funny.

Then I thought:

Wow.  Stupid people can be funny.

Then I thought:

No they can't.  A clever advertising agency took the stupid people's money and made the funny commercial for them.

Then I thought:

I should find a way of separating stupid people from their money.

Then I thought:

I should find a LEGAL way of separating stupid people from their money.  

Then I thought:

Maybe the guy making these tee shirts is a smart guy who has found a way to separate stupid people from their money.

Then I thought:

I wish I had thought of this idea first.

Then I thought:

But I still kind of hate it. 

See what I mean?  Utterly torn.

There is a big difference between girl-on-girl and elephant-on-girl

Today I Googled "What percentage of women are killed by women each year"?

The fifth item on Google's list was:

How many women are killed by elephants each year?

No, Google.  Not even close.

By the way, the answer to the elephant question was less than 20. 

Worst attempt to legitimize an already bizarre business model

See these smiles? 

Look how happy these people are! 

Want to guess what they do for a living?

[image error]

These are the brave men and women of Pet Butler, a Boca Raton company that will send "technicians" to your home to remove animal feces from your property so that you will never have to pick up after your dog again.

Now those smiles make sense.  Don't they?

These are the professional pooper scoopers of the world. 

In addition to the unique service that they offer, Pet Butler says that "You will be happy to know that every Pet Butler technician wears a clean and tidy uniform and our service trucks are very clearly marked so you will always know if Pet Butler is in your yard and driveway."

There's a strong selling point.  Thanks to Pet Butler's "clearly marked" vehicles, your neighbors will be made well aware of your decision to convert your once-pristine backyard into a temporary cesspool for dog excrement.

I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see the Pet Butler truck parked in your driveway twice a week.    

"Hey John!  Why don't you and the family stop by for some barbeque chicken and a little badminton tonight?"

"I don't know, Bill.  Doesn't Pet Butler come to your place on Tuesdays and Fridays?  I don't think I want my kids running around your backyard on a Sunday.  Can we reschedule?" 

And how about those uniforms… 

So clean! 

So tidy!

So difficult to discern the distinction between clean and tidy, since they essentially mean the same thing, especially when it comes to describing uniforms!   

Oh, and if the trucks and uniforms weren't enough to get excited about, Pet Butler has franchise opportunities available. 

Or in their words:

"We have franchise opportunities available for all Entre-manures!" [image error]

And their mission statement reads:

"Pet Butler was founded in 1988 providing poo-fessional pet waste cleanup…"

And their online company tour begins with a link that reads:

What we "doo"

Entre-manures! 

Poo-fessional! 

What we "doo" (with quotation marks around the word doo, just in case you mistook the misspelling for anything but a pun)! 

Not only is Pet Butler a professional waste cleanup company, but they are also quite capable and apparently rather fond of feces-related wordplay!  Just what I want to see when evaluating the seriousness of a potential franchise. 

And just in case you wanted even more poop-related wordplay, Pet Butler actually has a page where people can propose new, "family friendly" slogans, all centering upon excrement.  

There are currently 89 new slogans listed, including such gems as "If your dog's a poopin', we'll do the scoopin'" and "We're #1 in the #2 business!"

All of this can be yours for the price of a clearly marked vehicle, a clean and tidy uniform, and presumably a few plastic bags.

Like Giana O. of Avon by the Sea, New Jersey says in her testimonial: 

"Between work, kids and a husband, who has time to clean the dogs poop??? Not me but Pet Butler does!!"

Not only is Giana O. never satisfied with a single punctuation mark, but she makes a great point.  Why not let your dog crap all over your yard, and then every few days have someone picked it up for a nominal fee?  Sure, your yard will be laden with toxic landmines for the majority of the week, but Giana O. has kids, damn it. 

And a job. 

And did you notice? 

She has a husband, too.  And a husband who she included in a list with kids and work, so that guy must be a handful!

Or as Giana O. might says, a handful!!!!

It's important to note that while I find Pet Butler an unusual business, I am not making fun of the people who actually perform the work.

Rather, I am making fun of:

1.  Pet Butler's customers, who can't pick up their own dog's poop and are willing to allow it to sit on their lawns for days at a time

2.  The person or persons who wrote the copy for Pet Butler's website, as well as the owners of the company who allow it to continue to represent their company.

Although in fairness, I got more pleasure in surfing their website this morning than I do from most network television programs.  So in that regard, I should be at least a little thankful.  

Thanks, Pet Butler!  You're Turd-rific!