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Would you rather…
that all of the dull moments in your life were pumped up with a grind-core soundtrack,
or
your snowboard team is sponsored by Centrum Silver?
a) Damn! That’s some kickin’ macaroni!
b) Well, at our age…
I usually don’t have this much trouble with the crossword.
– bob
Would you rather…
sue the Swiss Army Corps Of Engineers for subsidence in your gingerbread house,
or
be the juggling act in the “Christmas With Xenu Holiday Spectacular”?
a) With more Global Moistening, we’re going to see a lot of this.
b) “Do we go on before or after the duet with Bowie?”
Senator, we warned the local officials about too much icing.
– bob
The explanation from the Verizon Wireless rep might’ve made sense. You know, your mobile phone doesn’t really have a dial tone, but when you pick a number out of your contact list and hit send, there should be ringing, right? Nothing. Blank. Dead air.
Mr. Verizon had a plausible answer for the problem. Some local towers are out of service, or so they said. The work phone didn’t work, but my personal phone did. Junky LG phone that came free with the account? Lots of bars but no dialing. Marginally less junky, bare bones Motorola phone that was not free with my plan? Still working. What gives?
I’m sure the Verizon rep would have an answer…
We’re aware of the problem. There are a couple towers down that serve your facility.
Okay, but how does that explain my phone?
We’re working on it and once we get the repairs done, you should notice that you have service again.
Um, I got that. What about the Motorola phone?
We don’t have an estimate when repairs will be done.
Interesting. So no explanation, huh?
Okay, great. Is there anything else I can help you with?
I guess not.
Your pal,
bob
Icy.
That asphalt isn’t supposed to be white, is it? Not here in Southern California. The snow from Sunday morning stuck all day, all night, and all of today. The temps never got above thirty degrees, which is pretty odd.
The timing is fantastic for the dogs, who aren’t particularly enjoying Winter In The Pines. Like a ticking time bomb, the girly dog refuses to go out in that freezing nightmare. This is going to be real bad.
I’ll post pictures soon with the sweaters (!) and coats (!!) as soon as I get them. Hopefully, I’ll get home tomorrow when it’s still light outside.
If I don’t slide off the mountain of course.
Merrie Christmas!
– bob
Would you rather…
place a personal ad with the Business Cycle Dating Committee,
or
bring your pressure washer to create snow for the French Valley Festival of Kids Who Don’t Know No Better?
a) SWF Actuary enjoys long nights curled up with GL…
b) Yeah it’s pink, Jack Frost has been detailing cars, okay?
I felt like such a commodity in the Open Market Committee.
– bob
Would you rather…
drop out of your elite prep school,
or
stop formulating baseless conspiracy theories about a senator?
a) Couldn’t handle the homework for my chattering classes.
b) Where’s your tinfoil hat now?
“I simply must do something else famous.”
– bob
Would you rather…
lead your neighborhood in what will be known as “The Candy Caine Lane Mutiny,”
or
form “The League of Extraordinary Santas“?
a) Mister, there are four ways to do things on my street…
b) Viejo Pascuero, meet Joulupukki…
I don’t want to upset you too much, but at the moment you have an excellent chance of being hanged.
– bob
Friends,
The joyous holiday season is upon us, and that means only one thing at my house—dogs! I’m picking them up this weekend for their annual fortnight of eating my books and being miserable in the cold. I’ve missed having them around, and it appears that they’ve been busy while away…
Apparently, Mayor McCheese and his executive assistant Candida Hamm were conducting a promotional photo shoot for fall outerwear when who should arrive on the scene? The Girly Dog! What terrible injustice can’t she solve?
I think the Iraq Study Group could offer an 80th recommendation…
Your pal,
bob
Would you rather…
have your town removed from the official state map because it “no longer fits,”
or
stop using bio-diesel because the exhaust smell gives you the munchies?
a) Hated Rand, loved McNally though…
b) I’m going to miss those continuously variable trans fats…
The Lieutenant Governor couldn’t read anything under 24 points.
– bob
Would you rather…
claim that you were tricked into being an idiot on film,
or
sell your copies of Princess Diana’s final phone calls on eBay?
a) “And the Oscar for best supporting dupe in a fake documentary goes to…”
b) Five Stars! – Billy C. is a great seller, prompt delivery
Cameras? There were cameras?
– bob
Something seems to have changed around here, but I can’t put my finger on it. I can feel it. What could it be? Maybe memory aids will help:
Nope. I still have no idea.
Ah. It’s the new article tags. That’s it. Pesky taggers.
Your pal,
bob
Would you rather…
assume that the next thing anybody says will be the worst thing possible,
or
the best?
a) I knew it wasn’t just a rash…
b) draft[you]dictatorforlife.org
It’s the transmission AND the computer, isn’t it?
– bob
Okay, not really. We got a half an inch last night and some of it stuck throughout the day. Bad news: the temps stayed in the upper twenties. Good news: hey! it’s our first snow of the season! (awfully late, don’t you think? – ed Well, yeah. I blame Global Drying. After all, it’s not like it hasn’t been cold.)
So, we’re not going to die. The puddles aren’t even deep enough to get your shoes wet (speak for yourself, hiking boot boy. my ballet slippers are soaked. – ed). It’s just dreary and gray. Sounds like somebody should be settling in for an afternoon of football, eh?
Your pal,
bob
Would you rather…
develop a non-lethal weapon that makes people feel their faces are on fire,
or
carry on with the Silly String?
a) It’s the “Goodbye Effect!”
b) What a mess, there’s trip wires everywhere…
Man, that’s some prompt and highly motivated escape behavior, if you ask me.
– bob
Would you rather…
uncover the Jupiter Hoax,
or
have a weather phenomenon named after you?
a) Yep, just a pie tin and a hula hoop.
b) It’s a cold, clammy wind that smells a bit like cheese.
He had an axe to grind ever since that nasty Pluto business…
– bob