Hello, My Name is Amanda Huginkiss

I met six new people last night in a context where no one knew anything about me. Whenever this happens I'm sorely tempted to make up a fake story about who I am and what I do. Here are some of the potential dossiers.

I'm a dentist at the zoo. On my nights off I like to do rubbings of headstones in graveyards.

I'm a knobbiest for the shoe industry. In my spare time I collect racial slurs.

I'm a janitor at a soap factory. It's just like being a janitor anywhere else, except whenever there's a big spill I get a few days off.

I'm a model for Texas Instruments. You can see me in their fall catalog doing math.

I'm a baggage handler for US Airways. On my nights off I like to pawn other people's possessions.

I'm a waiter at McDonald's.

Cultural Sensetivity, Beer...

I'm going to Oktoberfest this weekend. Actually, I'm going to a local American Oktoberfest, which is just another case of Americans using some other cultures meaningful holiday as an excuse to drink beer.

I'm not condemning this practice (I said I was going, didn't I), but I think its a bit sad that we claim to be celebrating something we really don't care about by hanging up crepe paper and cardboard signs that have stupid cartoony pictures declaring: "Happy Oktoberfest/Cinco De Mayo/St. Patrick's Day/4th of July". As if we really care about any of those days.

I imagine other western cultures would never do such a thing, but if they did here's how I think it would go down:

The Writ-Fish* would drink room temperature beer and reminisce about how they used to rule the country who's holiday is being celebrated.

The Pyre-Fish* wouldn't bother with the decorations.

The Wrench* would just keep drinking red wine and make snide remarks about how the country's civilization hasn't produced the same great achievements as the Wrench's has.

The Hermans* would laugh at the pathetic inferiority of the beer from the country in question.

The Handmaidians* would just do whatever the people in the country they were currently in are doing as part of their continued effort to take over the world by looking just like the rest of us. The bastards.

(* I've cleverly replaces the names of each culture with another word so as to avoid obvious stereotypes).

Hawaiian Shirt Day

I can wear whatever I want at my job. The dress code is: as long as it doesn't contain a racial slur or confirm your gender beyond any doubt its probably OK.

I've heard that you should dress for the job you want as opposed to the job you have. I always thought that if you did this then you would get that other job. So far it hasn't happened. Here are the outfits I've tried so far:

Jedi Knight

Supreme Court Judge

Ninja

Senator (The old Greek kind that always wear togas and laurel wreaths).

Batman

Circa 1970s porn star

Jedi Master

King of Sweden

Vice president. (Basically I just wear a suit and insult other people with real jobs.)

Sucka NCs

I hate anything that involves the word 'pageantry', and the Democratic and Republican National Conventions fall under that category. After several slow news days with lots of articles on the speeches that were made for the fan boys, I was struck by the similarities between the speakers at these events and gangsta rappers.

They spend a lot of time bragging about where they're from.

They love catch phrases.

They often wear ridiculous outfits that are at the same time hideously unique while still conforming to the rules of their larger group.

They like to talk about how awesome they are and what they are going to do without getting specific on how.

They like to talk about how terrible people from the other party/coast/political ideology/record label are.

They find a few key words they really like and work them in to every other sentence.

While there are a few noteworthy women, its mostly a bunch of like-minded men with trophy wives.

Both groups are all about the Benjamins. Only the rappers are decent enough to admit it.

I think it was you, Fredo

I was looking at a dessert menu tonight, and I saw something called a 'semifredo'. What the heck could that be? The only Fredo I know was from The Godfather 2. Assuming that is what they meant then the full Fredo would be to have Al Pacino kiss you on the mouth, be taken out in a boat, and then shot in the head. So a semifredo must be to have someone kiss you on the cheek, take you out in the back of the restaurant, and then smack you around a bit.

Turns out that a semifredo is actually a mousse cake. I ordered it, and while it was very tasty I was concerned about the presentation. This was a fairly swanky place so most of the other desserts had sauces artfully placed on the plates using a variety of techniques. One place had the sauces in a swirl pattern. I believe this is 'drizzled'. Another had little patches of the sauce. I have heard this is called 'spotted'. My semifredo had a smear of sauce that looks like it was created by dipping two fingers in chocolate and then dragging them across the place.

For lack of a better name. I called this 'skid marking'.

Doing a Body Good

I went to an Irish pub with some friends a few nights ago. I saw they had a brownie sundae on the menu. I decided that sounded good so I ordered it with a glass of milk. The waitress then proceeded to make fun of me for ordering a glass of milk. She asked if I was a five year-old and if I wanted a bottle. Which of the following do you think best described my reaction?

A) I laughed along with her.

B) I grabbed her head, slammed it down onto the table on top of my menu, and proceeded to scream at her. "See that? See that there? What's that word? CHOCOLATE! That's right. And what do people like to drink when they're having a lot of chocolate, hmmm? NO NOT COFFEE YOU MORON!!! It's late, and I have to WORK TOMORROW. So now that we've ruled out coffee what else might a person drink with a LARGE FUDGE BROWNIE. Speak up... What was that? No, I'm not going to kill you. Just answer the question. Did you say milk? Oh so now that we've established that a reasonable person might order a glass of milk with there desert it seems a little unkind for you to criticize my beverage choice doesn't it? DOESN'T IT? And I seem like a reasonable person don't I. Sure I am. OK, glad we straightened that out."

C) I sat and stared at the table with a mentally subnormal look on my face.

D) I sat and wept silently.

The Trouble with Tabloids

This morning I was in the checkout line at a drugstore when I saw a tabloid with a big picture of Angelina Jolie and the caption 'Photos of the Twins!' Excitedly, I grabbed it and flipped through it looking for the pictures.

They weren't the twins I was expecting. Guess I'm not up on celebrity current events.

Earwax

I have earwax. Sometimes it goes beyond what I can safely handle with a Q-tip and have to escalate to silly drops that I have to put in my ear while I keep my head tilted. Why the heck do our bodies produce earwax? There must be a good reason. Here are my current theories.

It's my body's way of trying to prevent me from hearing stupid things. This is not a very appealing theory since the person I most often hear speaking is myself.

It's the physical manifestation of The Force and the source of all my Jedi powers.

It's a natural camouflage that my body is producing to help me hide amongst the filth that I typically wallow in.

It's actually a very concentrated pheromone, and I would be irresistible to women if I would just stop cleaning out my ears.

It's a defense mechanism that my body produces to make my brains seem unpalatable to any nearby zombies.

In Living Color

I've been sick for the past three days, but I'm trending towards healthy. I know this not just because I'm feeling a bit better, but by my traditional gage of health: the color of the crap I cough out of my throat when I wake up in the morning. Here's a copy of my reference chart

Clear: Picture of health

Booger Green: Head cold

Blood Red: You have "The Consumption". This means you are likely an ingenue in a period piece and are going to die tragically at the end. Sucks to be you.

Blue: You've been eating raspberry Slushies while sleepwalking.

Chartreuse: You're gay.

Orange: A martian has laid an egg in your chest. Call some friends with a video camera and prepare for some post-mortem YouTube fame.

Black: You're leaking oil. Run a dipstick down your throat to see how low you're running, and schedule an appointment with a mechanic soon.

KABOOM!

I watched an episode of MythBusters last night. I don't even really remember the myths they were trying to debunk: I just remember the explosions. It struck me that it has been years since I've blown anything up... intentionally. This has inspired me to start making a list of things I would like to have the chance to see explode.

A large block of Jell-O

A paint store

A Humvee

A wedding cake while it is being cut

A fireworks stand

Any microphone Cher tries to sing into

A Coin-Star machine right before it is emptied

A Honey Bucket, from a safe distance

The Pitter-Patter of Little Thumbs

I've noticed whenever I'm in the bathroom at work now I hear 'Click... click-click-click, click click...'. My first thought was 'Oh, no! The guy in the next stall has become almost completely paralyzed. He must be using Morse code to signal that he needs help. Well, I don't know Morse code so I should just kick the stall door in and check on him.'

After a few fall positives on that theory I realized it was just people texting while sitting on the toilet. That must be why people like the IPhone's touch screen and keyboard. It's so when they're sitting in a bathroom stall texting no one can hear them typing.

I gotta wonder what kind of exchanges are being sent through the air around me while I'm in the bathroom now. 'C U 2nite. Luv U 2'. Send. Flush.

Inspiration

I often wake up in the morning with really good ideas running through my head. Usually I just turn over, go back to sleep, and they become lost to the world. Recently I started writing them down:

An Ouija Board mouse pad

Bungee cords that hook blankets to one side of the bed to prevent the person you're sleeping with from stealing them all in the middle of the night

A Laxative called 'Getterdone'

A bullet made mostly of silver with a splinter of wood running through it and a small reservoir of holy water in the middle. I call it "Paris Hilton's 16th Minute"

A cattle-prod for cats

An alarm clock that wakes you up by talking about how wonderful last night was while promising not to get all crazy and clingy

A dresser with slightly heated sock and underwear drawers.

A Dyslexic Gangster rap group called 'Mitch Better Have My Bunny'

Body of Work

My wife just found out that her first piece of research as a lead author has been accepted at a conference. This is likely to be one more milestone in an impressive career in research. Basking in the reflected glow of her accomplishment has cause me to sit back and reflect on some of the accolades I have accumulated in my career.

I lead my office softball league in VDs(*) for the third consecutive season.

I got to play the role of "Ty Webb" in my college's production of "Caddyshack 2: The Musical"

I won the title of 'Mr. Congeniality' in my Juvenile Detention annual pageant my third year in.

I recently completed my set of Golden Girls trading cards.

I was voted most likely to punch a monkey by my peers.(**)

A major Bollywood studio is considering optioning my Autobiography.
---
* Venereal Diseases

** This one is true. I have punched a monkey in the face. In my defense the monkey had it coming.

Resistance is Trivial

I went with my wife and some friends to play trivia at a local bar. We finished second to last, which is pretty embarrassing for a well educated group of young adults. In my beer-addled frame of mind I have come up with some theories as to why we did so poorly.

Our heads are full of mainly useful information.

Everyone else in the bar was a Nobel Laureate.

Everyone else in the bar was using their IPhone to cheat.

We were worried about being send to the Principal's office for 'Being Smart'.

The questions they asked were culturally biased against yuppies.

We answered the questions not as the quiz master asked them, but as he would have intended if he were capable of the same incredible feats of intellectual prowess as we are.

We drank enough beer to reduce us to a state where "Your Mom" becomes a plausible answer to any questions.

The Sign of the Evil Ipod

I'm in a foul mood. I wanted to buy the first three episodes of "Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog", and I had to install ITunes to do so. Furthermore, it seems that there's no way to download said purchases to my non-Ipod video player. Yes, I know the Ipod is a fine product, and no, I don't know anyone who has had a bad experience with one. It's just that I have observed people who own Ipods and noticed some disturbing trends. Specifically:

They tend to drive Volkswagons. Especially the new Bugs and Jettas which seem like a design collaboration between Ikea and Fisher Price.

They always seem to have a carribeaner dangling off of them for some reason.

They nod thoughtfully at anything that comes out of Bono's mouth.

They tend to accumulate a lot of expensive Apple consumer electronics and accessories, the total cost of which probably causes them to sell their other possessions and perform sexual acts for extra cash. Sort of like a heroin addiction for meterosexuals.

They spend a lot of time and effort making their hair look terrible in a deliberate sort of way.

They'll pay double for anything with the word "organic" in the name.

In rare instances they have been known to wear berets.

Rules of Radio

I listen to a lot of radio when I'm commuting. It's a good way to discover new music and an easy way to get the news. It's also a nice way to take in a baseball game. Since all the action in a game really only requires 4% of your attention anyway, eliminating the visual component gets that number down to a nice 1%.

However, in all the decades that I have been listening to the radio there are certain unforgivable acts that I hear for radio stations all across the country. Since they don't seem to be going away on their own I'm going to call them out here. With any luck this list will wind up in the hands of the program director of a station and the healing will begin.

Rule #1: Never play a song that has been edited for length
What marketing douche bag came up with the idea that keeping a song under three minutes is somehow good for radio? I have never been driving along listening to a good song thinking 'Gee, I love this song, but I'm just don't think I can handle all four minutes.' Actually, just the opposite is true. When a song I like gets cut off I want to cause an accident. If your station's policies prohibit you from playing songs over a certain length then just don't play those songs.

Rule #2: Never play a song that has been edited for content
Who are we kidding here? Even if you've never heard the song before you can probably figure out within context what's being said. All you're doing is screwing up the rhythm of the song. What about kids you ask? Look, if you're so worried about little Tammy Fay hearing a naughty word in a song then don't play top 40 radio stations on the compound's wireless.

Rule #3: Never play sound effects of horns or sirens.
I can't believe this even needs to be said, but almost every radio station I have ever listened to includes a soundtrack of horns and emergency vehicle sirens along with their traffic reports. If someone is in their car the last thing they need is to hear either of those sounds coming from anywhere. I wonder how may accidents have actually been caused by these sounds?

Rule #4: Morning DJs: don't bore me with the details of your life.
I know that DJs have a lot of information they need to get across. I know they need to chat with listeners. I know they need to establish a persona that is interesting and engaging. However, I know that I don't give a crap about the interesting thing that happened with the kid who mows their lawn or what their dog did last night.

Rule #5: Evening DJs: you do not have a sexy voice.
Have you ever heard an afternoon or evening DJ take five minutes to say a sentence that should take thirty seconds? I bet it was because they were speaking in a slow, breathy tone and really lingering on vowel sounds. Yeah, that needs to stop. Listen, Kathleen Turner has a sexy voice. Barry White has a sexy voice. You, Mr./Mrs. evening DJ, sound mentally sub-normal when you talk that way.

Rule #6: Talk Radio DJs: Don't sounds so effing smug.
I listen to news radio when I first wake up. However, it took me a while to find a station I could listen to without wanting to pound nails through my forehead. The reason was that most talk radio DJs just sound so damn smug. NPR personalities are the worst. What happened to the news radio from the middle of the 1900s when everyone spoke a mile a minute with flawless diction? Now we have to listen to these coma-inducing, mellow-toned, unctuous, condescending, beat-poet-like deliveries. To make matters worse, these tones are usually used to deliver not the local or world news, but rather educational programs on subjects that I couldn't care less about.

Rule #7: Don't play clips of your listeners saying how much they like your station
It's fine that people like your station. If I'm listening then I probably like it too. However, when I have to hear some random boob blather about how they sing along to their shower radio or how it 'makes them feel good' I suddenly worry that the target demographic of your station is the mentally retarded, and I change the station very quickly.

Me, Prozac, or Crystal Meth

I just received a booklet that describes everything anyone should know about interacting with me based on my answers to 25 multiple choice questions. Below are some of the things that booklet says about me mixed in with side effects for Prozac and Crystal Meth.

I will sometimes lead to feelings of dizziness or lightheadedness.

I may open my mouth and fall in.

I may cause hallucinations and a loss of contact with reality.

I could make you start vomiting.

I may be the reason you have difficulty sleeping.

I may avoid resolving tough issues.

I often inspire a euphoric rush or "flash".

I sometimes induce jaw clenching.

I have an easygoing and fun approach to most things.

I will sometimes inspire psychosis and paranoia.

I have been known to cause obsessive compulsive behavior.

I am approachable and affectionate with friends.

I have been know to cause damage to the brain.

I Would Kill For You

I overheard a girl saying that she didn't like it when guys gave her flowers. She said she thought it would be a more meaningful gesture to let the flower go on living. Well by that reasoning I should be getting a lot more respect and admiration for all the people I refrain from killing in a given day.

Really, its the fact that the flower had to die that makes a bouquet such a meaningful gift. It says "I have killed for you, and I would do so again." There's also the useful unspoken threat of "See these flowers? They thought about cheating on me too. Hopefully you can learn from their mistake."

Big Brother is Watching

I'm sitting on the third floor of an office building above a busy intersection. Its early and people are commuting to work. Clearly no one is thinking that someone is look down on them from above because if they did they would:

Show less cleavage.

Wash the roofs of their cars.

Walk in straighter lines. Everyone sort of weaves back and forth as they walk, but its only really obvious when you see it from above.

Wear hats to cover those bald spots rather than just poofing up their remaining hair.

Not look so relieved because the think that no one saw them trip on the curb.

Stop talking to themselves.

Look up instead of just side to side before picking their nose or picking their underwear out of their butt.

Fuzzy Alarm Clock

Or 'Things the animals I live with have done to wake me up':

Lick my feet.

Knock everything off the top of my dresser.

Serenade me.

Lick my nose.

Sit on my bladder and stare at me.

Bite my feet.

Lay down next to a spring doorstop and periodically flick it with their paws. Boi-oi-oi-oioioing, boi-oi-oi-oioioing...

Groom my eyebrows.

Jump on my stomach.

Eat my hair.

Pee on me.

Hating for the team

True sports fans are always yelling insults at someone. When their team is losing they shout at the players. When their team's winning they shout at everyone else.

Having beer vendors deliver directly to the great big fat loud mouths directly in their seats is perhaps the most capitalistically brilliant and socially irresponsible thing I have ever seen.

I love watching a baseball fan with a bag of nuts. The way they just absentmindedly chew off the shell and spit it on their own feet is just like watching a poorly designed zoo habitat where the animal can't get away from its own filth.

If I am every given the opportunity to sing the national anthem at a sporting event I'm going to bang through that baby in 15 seconds. I love my country, but I love baseball a whole lot more than I love watch a vocalist play with themselves (in a manner of speaking).

Little kids dancing always seems to wind up on the jumbo-tron at sporting events. I didn't realize the pedophile demographic had become so important to advertisers.

Shirts that say "Some team" allow that person to get along with other fans of that team. Shirts that say "Some team sucks" allows that person to get along with fans of all teams but that team. I'm going start making shirts that say "No Team Sucks". Then everyone will like me.

Thoughts on 'The Dark Knight'

Christopher Nolan is the best thing to happen to Batman since the words "Pow!" and "Blam!".

Katie Holmes was replaced by someone who looks older than fourteen and isn't married to a midget from the planet Tweak. A good decision, I feel.

If you have a billion dollars and the best approach you can come up with to fixing the worlds problems is to put on a costume and go take people on one at a time then you're an idiot who probably inherited that money.

According to some reviews the plot is 'muddled'. The only other place I hear that word is in recipes for Mojitos. Sounds good to me.

In this movie the Joker wears make-up. In other movies he was disfigured by chemicals. If you think the make-up can't possible be as scary then I have three words for you: Tammy Fay Baker.

Batman drives a tank-like car and a heavily-armed motorcycle. Just for fun I sort of wish they have given him a Smart Car and a Vesper.

It bothers me to read movie reviewer talk about the 'themes' and 'nuances' of this movie. It's like what would happen if some wine-nerd who writes reviews for Wine Spectator suddenly decided to try and describe RC Cola.

If Adam West, Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney, and Christian Bale all got together and did an accapella arrangement of the original Batman theme song I might just explode with happiness. NAH NAH Nah Nah nah nah Nah Nah NAH NAH Nah Nah nah nah Nah Nah BATMAN!

Good relationships are built on filth

To Clean: a verb meaning to hide things from one's spouse.

After a weekend of cleaning neither my wife nor I can find anything in our condo. It's not that we're trying to drive each other crazy, but rather that when asked to imagine what a clean home looks like we both have different visions. Both are remarkably similar, but in each vision everything is 'put away' in a slightly different place.

This is why it is important to be tolerant of messiness in the people you live with. You're not a messy people- you've just reached a happy compromise on where all your possessions belong.

Lying to Guests

I cleaned the condo today in preparation for the arrival of my parents. I used to really resent cleaning for guests because it felt like a lie. Now I enjoy doing it for the exact same reason. Lying to people is a guilty pleasure, and the fact that there are socially acceptable ways of doing so is one of the most awesome things about being human