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Tuesday, March 31, 2009

That's not rain...

Every time it rains, I can't help but think about my favorite Deep Thought, by Jack Handy. It goes a little something like this:

If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is, "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is, "Probably because of something you did."

This ALWAYS makes me laugh...out loud...while walking in the rain...in public...alone. Sure I might look crazy, because who laughs when it's raining? But I'd rather laugh and look crazy then be sad all day because of some sky spit. The cloudy, rainy days really seem to depress people. Perhaps if those people would think about the Deep Thought, they would laugh, then the laughing would automatically raise their spirits, then they wouldn't end up eggrolled in a blanket on their couch every time it rained. Of course it could go the other way too. They could think of the Deep Thought, laugh at first, then think about what they did that made God cry...not paying parking tickets on time, excessively using the "F" word, laughing at the little kid who had his head down and walked into the sign in the hallway, not waiting until the kid got down the hall to start laughing...great...I made God cry. Now I'm depressed.

Monday, March 30, 2009

Love.

I really love pizza. I don't think I would ever turn down a piece of pizza. I also feel this way about bacon. And peanut butter and jelly. And certain types of cupcakes. I am starving.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Is that? No, it's just Meta...

While perusing the internet this week, I was smacked with the realization that if my hair were a little bit more blonde, and a little bit more tightly curled, I would look a lot like David Bryan, keyboardist for the popular rock band Bon Jovi, a band that I don't even really like, except for "Living on a Prayer" so I'm not really sure why I was looking at images of Bon Jovi. Random. But anyway, yeah, I think I would kind of look like him.


This led me to think about the other people I look like, resemble, remind people of etc. One of the most popular opinions is that I look like Darlene, from popular 90's sitcom Roseanne. I kind of see that, but mostly I think it's an attitude thing. Although I think I wasn't as bitchy as Darlene when I was a teenager, though my parents would probably disagree.

Back when I was a teenager and hanging out at the Vivian's every...single...day...I was told by Mrs. Vivian that I looked like the model for the Mona Lisa. She told me this all the time, I loved hearing it. That is maybe is the most random/awesome person I have been compared to. I mean, the Mona Lisa is a beautiful painting, so my guess is that the model was beautiful. Unless the model was goat-smackin ugly and the Mona Lisa is actually an abstract painting. Now, please don't go writing to me telling me that I'm an idiot for saying the Mona Lisa is an abstract painting...I know that it is not. I was just saying...


Another Meta-like that has recently come to my attention, unfortunately for me, is Weird Al Yankovic. Before you protest, think about it. We both have the long, curly hair, we both have odd faces which allow for odd facial expressions. Actually, odd facial expressions have become the norm for me.
Just look at some of my pics on Facebook. Anyweirdal, I think when you weigh the facts you will agree that I bear a strong resemblance to Weird Al, but without the money, the parody, the accordion, the Grammy, the mustache...that is if I've waxed mine.

Many of you might wonder why wombats hold such a special place in my heart. I've been told that this nickname "wombat" came about when I was a wee baby. Apparently, my uncle Joe said that I looked like a wombat. Now, I'm no baby expert, but I think the only thing that was even remotely similar about baby Meta and a baby wombat, is the fact that we were both pink...and naked. But the similarity ends there, in my opinion. If I were to go several weeks sans shower, I may begin to smell like a wombat, but that's not looking like a wombat, that's smelling like a wombat. Big difference people...big difference. Don't get me wrong, I would love to look like a wombat, because I think they are super cute. I'm not sure if that's a popular opinion, or if I'm biased because wombats have been a major part of my life. I don't really care either. Wombats...are cute. So there.

There is one comparison that has been made that I really miss. To bring this look back, it would require that I resurrect my delicious fade, but I don't think I'm prepared for that. Growing it out took too long. And I wish that when I looked like this, I had been brave enough to be my lez self because I could have pulled chicks like crazy looking like Joey McIntyre. I was maybe the poor-woman's Joey McIntyre, but still.
I realize that most people I think I look like are men, which may seem weird...al. Don't get me wrong, I think I def look like a woman. I mean, I am all t*ts and hair and hips. I'm just saying that I have similar features to some men. Heck, my cousin Mina, who is like the least manly person I know and is absolutely beautiful, thinks she has, on occasion, looked like Buddy Lembeck from "Charles In Charge" and in one photo, she declared she looked like Ben Stiller. Neither of which are true...but both are hilarious.
So, who do you like? Who are some of the folks you've reminded people of? What are some of your most hilarious celebrity comparisons? Bring em, people...


Thursday, March 19, 2009

Poof this...

So the word prediction setting on my phone? Is dumb. Why? Oh, I'll tell ya why. Every single time I type "some", the predicted word it gives me is "poof". I don't use the word "poof"...ever...for anything. I seriously never use the word "poof". I shouldn't say never, because I do use "poof" when I'm singing "Little Bunny Foo Foo"...which I do more often than a 32 year old with no kids should...wait, no I don't...I'm lying...the word "poof" isn't even in that song(yes I did just sing it in my office to check, and yes out loud)...so I'll go back to my original statement, which is I seriously never use the word "poof". I certainly don't type the word "poof" into my phone, so why the word prediction thinks "poof" is what I'm trying to type instead of "some", is beyond me. I use the word "some"...all the flappin time. You would have thought by now that C3PO(I call my cell phone that because it's cell phone number 3 for me, cell phones are like androids, and I like C3PO the android because he has a snappy English accent and worries all the time) would have figured out the word "some" is a part of my everyday vocabulary and not "poof" and it would have adjusted to accommodate it. But no...I'm still getting "poof" all the time. Maybe C3PO knows I'm a big poof. I mean, I cry at everything that's even remotely sentitendermental, I cry at everything that's even remotely sad, I cry at everything that's even remotely happy. I cry...a lot. So maybe 3PO is just calling me a "poof" all the time...because 3PO is a little bit of an ahole. Anyandroid, it's so annoying that I've decided to stop using the word "some" and just settle for "poof". So you may get a text message from me that makes no sense...one that says, for example, "Hey, will you bring me poof Advil?" or "Can I use poof of your lip balm?" or "How would you like it if I made you poof tacos?"...hehe..."poof tacos" is really making me laugh right now. Anypooftacos, if you receive a text like that from me, making no sense and involving the word "poof", you'll know I mean "some"...and you can figure it out. Now, will one of you seriously bring me poof Advil?

And hey, read this: http://www.whywhatwereyouthinking.blogspot.com/
It's one of my new favs and should be one of yours too!

Friday, March 13, 2009

TAPS...

I would like to take a moment to share with you that my digital pet crab Ike has pooped for the last time. Sadly, this world lost it's greatest digital crab, ironically, during last night's episode of ER. He was in good spirits, I had just fed him pizza and was getting ready to play with him, but I got no response from him when I pressed the "Play" button. I tried pressing other buttons, first with purpose, then frantically when I realized Ike wasn't making any noise. I then placed him on the table, pushed a few rounds of EPI, attempted CPR, but to no avail. Finally, Joy came over, gave me the Brandon Walsh Neck-Hold and said "You gotta let him go, Meta. You just gotta let him go". Then, wearing my snug fitting flight suit, I held Ike's dog tags for the last time, rubbed my thumb over them, and chucked them meaningfully into the ocean. Oh wait, that was Cruise in Top Gun. I actually just left Ike on the coffee table and pondered whether or not I should change his battery.

So goodbye for now, my crabby friend. You were at times annoying, at times amusing, at times full of crap...literally...but at all times, you were my friend.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Name Game...

At the request of my homie G, I pulled this boog from Meta's Myspace page. It's an oldie from last summer regarding how my alter ego "Merta" got her last name...and that reminds me that I ought to write about why my alter ego is named "Merta"...maybe later...

Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I’m changing my name...


So one week after Cyndi Lauper called me "Neta" and I did not correct her, I discovered yet another play on my name, this time on my last name. I came into my office this morning after missing work yesterday(I was on my way home from a smashing trip to San Francisco) and I saw a piece of mail on my keyboard...addressed to "Meta Kufle". After I calmed down from my hysterical laughter(Kufle is hilarious, especially if you say it out loud...try it), I tried to figure out how this chick came up with Kufle as my last name. We spoke on the phone, and I gave her my name and she sends the mail to "Meta Kufle". I could understand if she sent it to "Meta Kroger", or "Meta Crocker" or "Meta Kruncher", but Kufle is nowhere near the same as Kroker, it's not even close! Was she sitting there like "Well I'll be, I can't remember that Meta girl's last name. I know it had a 'K' sound at the beginning...Kufle...that sounds right". There is a very bright side to this name kerfuffle. As some of you know, my alter-ego who does stupid shit and says embarrassing things is named "Merta"...well people, now Merta has a last name. So when I act a fool, please use my proper name when addressing me...Merta Kufle.
Sincerely,
Meta aka "Merta Kufle"

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

No more mourning...plus, people are annoying...

My friends, my friends, it is with a giddy heart and hand that I write this boog to you today. After spending yesterday being alternately sad...then mad...then sad...then mad about The Golden Girls, I'm happy to report that they were not permanently removed from the television orbit as I was led to believe. Turns out, the young whippersnappers over at the Hallmark Network decided to buy the rights to the Fabulous Foursome, adding them to their hip new lineup. They will be keeping company with the likes of the Camdens, the Ricardos and the sly-like-a-fox Jessica Fletcher. Methinks the gals will have no problem fitting in. The only down side to this channel switch is that now there are 2 hours of The Golden Girls every night, and like crack, once I take my first hit I can't stop until it's all gone. Do not be surprised if my future boogs have an incoherent nature due to sleep deprivation.

On a more annoying note, people...are annoying. This morning while getting my morning cup of Premium House Blend 7-11 coffee, I was annoyed...by a person. I'm sure many of you are familiar with the coffee corral layout at 7-11's...but for those of you who are not, I'll do my best to take you there...using my words as a vehicle...but a more clean vehicle than Reggie...who could use a good cleaning...and some interior detailing as well...and probably some dental work. AnyKwik-E-Mart, so the coffee corral is made up of a long island which is accessible on both sides. There are 4 cupots(cup depots), 2 on either side of the island, at opposite ends. There is a filling station at each end of the island and each station contains, oh, 37 pots of different coffees. In the middle of the island is a tower containing various coffdiments(coffee condiments), lids, and stirrers. During coffeesh hour(coffee rush hour), I think the corral could hold 6 people comfortably...1 person at each of the 4 cupots, and one person on either side of the island utilizing the coffdiments. This morning, I approached the coffee corral and saw that I was the only person there. Naturally, I went to the closest cupot to grab a cup. I mean, the coffee corral isn't a gas station...there's no unspoken rule about pulling up to the furthest pump when the station is empty so that someone can pull in behind you. And you certainly won't get berated in the coffee corral for that offense like you might at a gas station...by a crazy old man in a jalopy...with only 1 square foot of his windsheild cleaned off in the middle of a frozen blizzard...who is also smoking while walking past your car and saying "Jeez Louise, common sense tells you to pull all the way forward to the first pump". Anycuckoo, as I started to fill my cup w/ coffee, a man in a suit entered the corral...and stood right behind me. Like, all up on me. Seriously, he was so close that if I turned around too quickly, I would've gotten pregnant. I couldn't figure out why this dude just HAD to be in the only spot in the whole corral that was actually occupied. My eyes darted around to see if maybe the coffees were different at the 2 filling stations and that's why he wanted my spot. But no, it was the same coffee and all the pots were full. I quickly looked at the other cupot on my side of the island to see if perhaps it was empty. But no, the cups were plentiful. Finally, my cup was full so I was able to try and get out of the uber uncomfortable "might as well just hop on my back for a piggy-back ride" situation. However, the Space Invader was still standing pregnant close to me, so I couldn't turn and walk the 2 steps to coffdiment tower, I had to actually shuffle sideways to get there. As I was shuffling awkwardly(is there ever a shuffle that isn't awkward? There's like nothing natural about shuffling...unless you're Truffle Shuffling. That's a totally natural shuffle), it occurred to me that maybe this gent wanted to use the machine that offers specialty items like lattes and cappuccinos and other foamy delights, which is located on the other side of the filling station that I had been using. So I stopped my coffaration(coffee preparation) and stared at him waiting to see what he would do. Imagine my anger when I saw him grab a cup, fill it with standard Premium House Blend Coffee, toss a lid on that sucker and head for the register. What...the...eff...rude man in suit? There were 3 other empty spots you could have used and yet you had to wait for the one I was filling? I had half a mind to walk up right behind him at the register and just kind of, lean into him and look off in the opposite direction. But we all know I'm too much of a wimp to actually do that, so I just chuckled at the mental image and finished adding my 82 Land 'O Lakes Mini Moos.

So great news on The Golden Girls front, but even that great news doesn't stop annoying people from being...annoying.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Mourning in the morning...

My faithful boog readers, it is with a heavy hand and heart that I am writing this boog. I'm sad to tell you that something has been taken from my life that has been the source of great laughter and happiness and I'm not really sure how to go on.

Yesterday morning, at about 8:30am, I flicked on the telly in my bedroom as I do every morning. I changed the channel to 45, Lifetime Television For Women, for my morning dose of The Golden Girls. Instead of being greeted by a sarcastic quip from one of my gals of a golden hue, I was greeted by the southern twang of fiery red-head Reba McIntyre. What was going on? How could I have a good morning without my favorite Miami biddies? I figured that it must be some sort of programming error and I would just have to wait until midnight to watch my ladies. Fast forward to midnight, I turn on the television, and instead of hearing a St. Olaf story thanks to Rose Nylund, I hear the voice of Doug Savant in the role of Felicity Huffman's hubby on Desperate Housewives. I was gobsmacked. Where the hell were my friggin Golden Girls? Was this some sort of not-even-a-little-funny joke? I decided to give it one more try this morning.

As 8:30am rolled around, I rolled out of bed, grabbed my remote, crossed my fingers, closed my eyes and turned on channel 45...I listened closely, hoping to hear a delicious insult courtesy of Sophia Petrillo, but for the second time in as many days I was instead twanged by Reba. I stood in front of the television, mouth turned upside down, my right hand clenched around the remote as if squeezing it to death would make The Golden Girls appear. Furious, I screamed "Eff you Lifetime! Indian Giver!" and flipped to "It's Me Or The Dog".

Today when I got to work, I decided to explore the Lifetime website to check the schedule. I mean, this couldn't be a forever thing, at least not in my mind. Who on earth would prefer Reba, or Desperate Housewives to the hilarity of The Golden Girls? You're not gonna hear Reba utter "Picture it...Sicily...1924..." and certainly no Desperate Houswives character can give you quick-comeback whiplash the way Dorothy Zbornak can. Sure, sure, DH does have plenty of Blanche-like sluttiness, but that's not enough to make up for what I was losing...which right now feels like 4 close friends...and grandmas...funny grandmas who love cheesecake the way I love cheeseburgers...and joke about sex like high schoolers...which maybe isn't that funny if it's your real grandma joking about sex...or maybe it is. Anygeriatric, I went to Lifetime's website, and with a shaky hand clicked on the "Schedule" section...I scrolled...and scrolled...and scrolled...no Golden Girls. I checked the next day, I scrolled...and scrolled...and scrolled...no luck. I checked the day after that, I scrolled...and scrolled...and scrolled...and when I saw no Golden Girls for the 3rd day in a row...I cried...a single fat tear which rolled down my chubby cheek and saturated my sweater. More tears followed, but I'd rather not talk that because it's slightly embarrassing to cry over The Golden Girls in your office...even if nobody noticed...because you jumped up and went to the bathroom right away...and your head was down so no one could see you crying...plus you're 32 years old and a little old to be crying about a TV show...especially one that has been off the air for years...and one that is available on DVD. Anycrybaby, there will definetely be a void in my life since this show has been ripped from me without warning. I will do my best to make it through this difficult time by recalling my favorite moments and replaying my favorite scenes on the internal television of my mind, so don't be surprised if the next time you see me, I look off to the distance, chuckle to myself and utter "Oh Sophia"...