Archive for the 'Random Ramblings' Category

Joe’s Ode to “The Other 9 to 5 Show”

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“The show is called the Other 9-5 Show.
He that performs that 8 hours, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when March 1st is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of BYOI.
He that shall perform this show, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say “To-morrow is March 1st.”
Then will he unlock his phone and open his YouTube app,
And say “These videos I took at the 9-5 Show at the Warwick Museum of Art.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words- Daniel Lee White, Joe Wilkicki, Nate Lopez, Ryan Hanley and Coburn Childs-Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And March first shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he that plays Party Quirks and Highlander with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition; And all gentleman in Rhode Island now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not there,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That laughed with us at the 9-5 Show.

Oh, and there’s breakfast included afterwards.”
-Joe Wilkicki

Without Advice: The Search for Erin – Part 2: The Epic Journey Continues!

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Greetings and salutations,

Once again, I have decided to go into the wild, blue yonder in search of my lost advice-filled companion, Erin. You might be asking yourself why I would try again, considering the very public and very one-sided rivalry that makes up our relationship. In that sense, she is the yang to my yin. I have a lot of pent-up hatred going on here, and I don’t think it is fair to release it on small children. If anything, I need to find her so I can make fun of her.

With that in mind, it is time for the second chapter of:

In the first part of my quest, I traveled to Monaco and scoured it’s beloved landmarks. While my search did not end successfully, I did manage to get myself kicked out. So at the very least, I didn’t half-tush my exit. However, I remain determined to find Erin. So where do I go next? What exotic local will I trek? What adventures and law enforcement await me? It’s time to find out in the second chapter of this thrilling quest!

Sim Sala Bim!

Part 2: Newport Creamery, Garden City, Cranston, RI

Nope. Not in there. I thought I saw Ed, though. But it was a coat rack.

Until next time, faithful readers! Remember, three Awful Awfuls and the fourth is free. I love you.

– Ryan

Without Advice: The Search for Erin – Part 1: Monaco!

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Greetings friends and otherwise,

As many of you know, Erin and I offer the weekly advice column He Said, She Said, where we take questions from you and give our level-best answers. You might have noticed that we did not have the column this past week. And why was that? Well, my lovely partner in crime (and by lovely I mean not lovely) Erin did not send me her advice to be posted. “For shame”, I thought. Then I thought, “I need to use the bathroom.” But after that I thought, “Say, this is very unlike Erin. Even under the toughest of deadlines, she still comes through with the column.” This led me to one final thought:

She’s gone missing. And it is up to me to find her.

Still, I don’t want to be grim about this sort of thing. So in an attempt to remain optimistic about the whole thing, I assumed that she went missing in beautiful Monaco! So onward, faithful readers, so that we might find my trusty comrade!

Sim Sala Bim!

Part 1: Monaco!

Ah, beautiful Monaco! Never have the obscenely rich been so obscene. So why would an everyday chump like myself go here? This search for Erin is bound to be a thrilling adventure, and no one knows more about adventure than 007 himself, James Bond. Monaco has been the location for several Bond films, including Casino Royale, Goldeneye, and Never Say Never Again (which doesn’t even count). Besides, Erin is a woman of class and would only go missing in this glorious principality. That, or she might have just wandered on the plane in a drunken stupor.

My first stop was Fort Antoine. Originally a fortress built in the 18th century, it is now an open air theatre. A perfect place for an improvisor! As I searched around this spectacular monument, I began to feel a bit “Yes, Andish” myself, to the point where I started challenging the locals to rounds of “Back in My Day”. I started with quite the zinger: “Back in my day, we didn’t have Fort Antoine! The only military architecture we had was my grandfather’s crew-cut!” This did not go over well during the retort: “Back in my day, we didn’t have Fort Antoine. No, seriously, it was destroyed in 1944, and then rebuilt in 1953. Thanks for bringing it up!” A small mob later, I decided to move on.

I then realized that if I was going to get any answers, I was going to have to go to a higher authority. So it was off to the Prince’s Palace. I figured that a prince, of all people, would be aware of what is happening in his own kingdom. Knowing that the fate of my dear friend/annoying chick that owes me money was at stake, I marched to the first authority I saw. “I demand to see your prince”, I proclaimed with vigor. The man stood confused, not knowing what to say. “Your prince, damn you! Your prince!” After a few more moments, the man looked to me and said, “Sir, you need to buy a ticket.” How dare he! Money, at a time like this. Naturally, I refused. Even more naturallyer, I was escorted out and deported back to Rhode Island. On my passport is a big stamp that reads “…AND STAY OUT!”

So my fruitful search turned out to be fruitless. Ah well. But I promise you all, faithful readers, I will not give up! I will find Erin and our column will return. If you can hear/read/understand this Erin, fear not! I will be there. Because I’ll be damned if you make me look bad with another late column.

Until next time, keep your eyes peeled and your potatoes moisturized. I love you.

– Ryan

He Said, She Said #4: Stepping in Dog-Fu

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It’s that time again! No, not that time, you pervert. Time for another edition of He Said, She Said. Now sit back and relax as you become dazzeled with opinions! Not that far back. How else will you read the screen? Then again, how did you see that last statement? You are probably too far back by now. Alright, for those of you who refuse to relax, keep reading.

“Dear Erin & Ryan,
How does one go about getting a girlfriend?”

From Ryan:

You’ve come to the right place. If you’ve seen any of our shows, you’ll know that I was brought on for my looks, whereas others (I won’t name any Erins) were brought on out of an overflow at the shelters. I’ve wooed many damsels in my day and would be happy to share my secret.

The key with getting a girlfriend is that you make sure that they don’t know what’s going on. For example, you want to ask a girl out and you decide to be direct. Bad move, Casanova. She’ll be on to you and your scheme. So you don’t be direct. Don’t ask to buy her a cup of coffee. Say something like “Jeez, I could go for a coffee right now, regardless of the fact that it’s going to put me on the toilet for fifteen minutes. I’ll spot you if you want one.” It’s all about being cool and casual when it comes to setting up the “non-date”.

Really, this is a great mantra to go with during the initial stages of the “friendship”. Just keep reminding yourself, and perhaps her, that it isn’t a date. Don’t forget, actions speak louder than words. If you suggest she pay her share, she’ll never be the wiser.

Granted, moments of intimacy, romance, caring, and the all-around fun stuff are out the window. But you can still change your Facebook status. And isn’t that what we are really after?

From Erin:

Ask me. Duh.

“Dear Erin & Ryan,
If an audience member ‘accidently’ hit your dog while you were busy answering this question, how should they tell you?”

My dogs, all three of them, are currently nestled at my feet in unobstructed view. If by some chance, you were to enter my house uninvited (which currently has yet to occur) and “hit” my dogs I would respond in sevenfold. For sake of understanding, assume all of my doggies have the Mark of Cain upon them. Then, imagine I am god. I would smite you.

Basically, if you were to “accidentally” hit my dogs, you would not have to worry about how to tell me. There wouldn’t be that much time before you hit the ground.

From Ryan:

Jeez, Erin, and you expect someone to ask you out? It’s not the violence that seems out of line. It’s the word “smite”.

While I am sure Erin’s dogs are adorable, regardless of their rotten luck in terms of owners, I do not see this to be an issue with my dog. Naturally, I wish no harm on him at any time by any means. However, what separates my dog from others is that he has been trained to hit back. No, I don’t mean bite or claw. I mean hit.

While traveling the farthest reaches of the Near East, I stumbled upon a small village. Within this small village lived an old man. This man is the closest example to a human master in Kwan-Shih-Tzu, an unorthodox fighting style created by seven year-old boy being tested for ADD (he didn’t have it). I say the closest example to a master because human beings can never master this fighting style, however dogs can. For one, there is an essence of loyalty that only dogs can exemplify. The form requires a kind of speed only dogs can match. Finally, some of the moves require piddling, and most people are just too modest.

The old man looked into my eyes and asked me what it was that I was trying to find. It was uncanny seeing that I hadn’t said anything yet because I was trying to find the words. A true master indeed. He then told me the ways of Kwan-Shih-Tzu, and later sold me a three-disc DVD set so I could train at home. I brought my newfound knowledge home and taught my dog the style. He has been protecting me and my collection of odd spices ever since.

So you see, my friend, if you hit my dog, prepare to defend yourself. But if you could just not hit him in the first place, that would be ideal.

He Said, She Said #3: The Talk

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Welcome back to another exciting edition of He Said, She Said. Yes, a little late this time around. But well worth it. So let’s stop dawdling!

Dear Erin & Ryan,

Are French manicures out of style?

From Erin:

The French manicure, for those outside of the know, is a fingernail style characterized by white tips and a clear base. The French manicure is classic and clean but not always on trend, like a strand of pearls or a Barry Manilow recording. But the wise fashionistas know that a trend is best done as a splashy accent to your basic ensemble. You certainly can’t show up for work in parachute pants AND gold lame unless your name is M.C. Hammer. You have to learn to pair the fashion forward with the classic.

Try your glittery new dress with bright red nails. Ouch! With so much going on, who knows where to look? Now try it with the polish of a French manicure. Beautiful. Try those bright red nails at the office and you have opened the door for angry Ms. Hooper two cubicles over to spread rumors regarding your promiscuity, but a clean and subtle French manicure will be sure to keep that nosey bitch in check.

Personally, I am anxiety ridden, and therefore chew my nails into short, grotesque, fashion less nubs. But if you don’t have the dedication for that much upkeep and also don’t experience the sheer tactile fear I do when faced with a nail technician, a French manicure is an excellent everywhere, every wear option.

From Ryan:

Why the hell should I care? French manicures? I’m a guy, lady. I’m not looking at your fingernails. In fact, I don’t think any guy really does. Sure, the choice of fingernail style might say something about you, but we weren’t paying attention to what that was.

We’re looking at and for the following (please note that all parts mentioned are in guy-speak):

  • The Ma-Hamina-Haminas
  • Col. Sanders’ Endless Chicken
  • Your Sands Through the Hourglass
  • Your Fart Jar
  • Benson
  • And finally, your Whispering Surprise

Only guys know what I am talking about. And I plan on keeping it that way.

Dear Erin & Ryan,

Where do babies come from?

From Ryan:

Seriously, mack? You want to ask me where babies come from? This is the sort of talk you are supposed to have with your mom and dad! I don’t understand why you would come to me with this. I don’t even know you. I don’t know why you’d go to Erin, either. From what I hear, she eats babies. Every day.

I think it would be best to actually analyze what compelled you to come to this advice column rather than go to a parent. Let’s start there: this is an advice column. Perhaps, deep down, you are really seeking out advice and decided to hide behind this question. But why this question? Maybe the question is still at the core of what you really want advice about. Let’s work some improve magic and turn this question into an advice-driven question. What possible things do we have here? I will answer these possibilities as quickly as possible.

“Would I make a good baby?”

That depends. How did you do the first time? Think about your past performance, have a true evaluation, and then go for it.

“Can I trust my baby to drive my car long distances?”

Your baby will most likely mimic your driving habits. If you are good at driving, most likely your baby will be good as well. But I would go to an empty parking lot a few times just to be sure.

“What’s the best way to get rid of a baby?”

I’m calling the cops.

“Is it wrong to be jealous of my baby?”

Babies are going to get a lot of attention no matter what. Live with it. Look at the kid from Two and a Half Men. Society will eventually stop caring.

“My significant other and I want to have a baby, but we can’t tell if it is the right time in our lives. What kind of questions should we be asking ourselves to truly know if we are ready?”

I’m calling the cops.

That’s about all I have right now. Oh, but in case you really wanted to know where babies come from…I have no clue.

From Erin:

….And supposedly I am the one who skirts the question?? No, Ryan, it is pretty obvious who wears the skirt in this relationship. (I’ll give you a hint- it sounds like RYAN)

Baby. First used in the late 1300’s, a diminutive form of “babe” which is likely derived from “babble” as in the sound that babies make. Probable languages of origin are many, including Gaelic, Russian, French and Latin.

Also, in the unlikely event that I somehow misunderstood your question, please reference the video below.

BABIES AND HOW THEY COME TO BE

You’re welcome.
Erin

Remember to keep those questions coming! Ask for advice here in the comments, live at a BYOI show, or email us at hesaidshesaidquestions@gmail.com.

He Said, She Said #2: Bros Before Schmos

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Welcome to another exciting edition of He Said, She Said, the only advice column that leaves more questions than answers. Let’s get crackin’!

“Dear Erin & Ryan,

How do you tell a platonic male friend that you love him without making it weird?”

From Ryan:

Well it really all depends, now doesn’t it? Are you a man or a woman? If you are a woman, it’s a pretty cut and dry situation. The main issue tends to be that the friendship being maintained is more important than seeking something romantic. However it is possible as long as you take your time. While your feelings might be overwhelming, you don’t want to bombard your friend with them. Taking something to the next level is fine when you go one step at a time. Start with casual get-togethers and work your way from there. It’s a huge leap from friends to love, so find those levels in between to guide you.

Who am I kidding? This is a dude asking this, isn’t it? Wonderful. Alright, sir, so you want to go from bro to lover, eh? First let me start by saying that there is nothing wrong with this. You should be who you are and I commend you for claiming your identity in open society. Let the flag of you wave proud. However, you are going to have an uphill climb if your significant bro doesn’t see you as a liaison of passion, not to mention if he thinks your beard will tickle while necking.

No matter how cautious you are in approaching your artificially-bronzed comrade, things could very much get awkward. The key in this situation is that you will need to seriously leave your comfort zone, as in “update your passport” leave. You need to consider venturing into areas so unmentionable that society might respond in a crescendo with a unified face-palm. Legal, of course, but chimp-on-a-blimp bonkers. For instance, burst into your bro’s dorm room wearing nothing but a neon g-string, gyrating as if a small bronco was trying to throw you into the air, screaming “Yo, yo, I love my bro” over and over again. Or perhaps you fill his car with cartons of milk and leave a picture of you in a kitten costume on the windshield, marked with the phrase “Won’t you give this kitten a home?” If your imagination runs free, the possibilities are endless.

The fact is, no matter what, it’s going to get weird. So you might as well go all out.

And I love you too, Jamie Dufault.

From Erin:

Now, when you say “love” I am going to assume you mean “want to make out with” because telling a friend that you are in love with them is ill advised. Have you ever seen that show “Friendzone” on MTV? It is one of the most horrific displays of humiliation and despair. And this from the same channel that created Jersey Shore…

But I digress.

Ladies, please follow the following handy checklists when trying to get all up on that dude:

1. Moderate cleavage. MODERATE. Think somewhere right in between church cleavage and pasties. Under no circumstances are turtlenecks or exposed nipples an option.

2. Check your pulse. Do you have one? Good enough.

This is the extent of my knowledge. If you’re trying to get me to tell you how to get into a relationship you have come to the wrong girl. Seriously, it’s like looking at directions from IKEA. Maybe I need to be more lady like? Whatever, I’ll get to it after I level up again in Skyrim.

Dear Erin & Ryan,

I am in love with Jacob Black, but I am a vampire, and he is a werewolf. Can we make a relationship work?”

From Erin:

Young, supernatural love can be a tricky but beautiful thing. You are undead, he smells of wet dog every time it rains, but there are distinct possibilities here. For example, the two of you will have bonding experiences other couples can only dream of, like discarding a body together. One of you paired with a normal human might lead to difficulties with regard to quality time, but let’s face it; you both know you’re best suited for the nightlife. Provided you can both convince your friends and family to avoid any silver plated wedding gift the two of you can look forward to decades of marital bliss.
This would be my advice to any run of the mill supes looking for love. However, I don’t think you fall in to this category. You sparkle. This is ridiculous. BUT if I am correct in my analysis of the question, you are implying a love between Edward Cullen and Jacob Black. So I can only assume your real question is something more like, “can you please write me some hot dude on dude Twilight fanfic?” The answer is, sadly (or luckily) not. I do not believe that we here at Bring Your Own Improv carry the kind of legal coverage to thwart the Stephanie Meyer machine.

Let’s talk for a moment however about something I don’t understand about the Twilight series. No, not “the entire thing”… I happen to have the soul of a 13 year old girl and I read them all, so shut it. What I want to point out specifically is how through all the books Jacob was totally balls about Bella and hated Edward and we come to understand at the end that it is because he is destined to imprint on her un-born baby. (Yeah, really.) My question is, if he was in love with Bella because of her eggs, shouldn’t he have been equally enamored of Edward’s junk? Now THERE is some stellar fanfic.

Word.

From Ryan:

Congratulations, Erin. Once again you completely ignore the root of the problem. But hey, at least you’re a consistent little turd. Now run along and read some more of your fantasy smut.

I don’t know if this is “Bella” or “Edward”, but let’s put this in perspective: how the hell are you going to achieve something like love? Seriously? You’re a vampire that sparkles in daylight. You are not intimidating let alone a true vampire. Real vampires stay asleep during the day so they can spend their whole night biting into victims for their blood. They take innocent nubile women and change them into fanged temptresses that suddenly have employment in a local brothel. But you? You look like you took a sponge-bath in glitter, which we all know is the herpes of the arts and crafts world.

Why do I berate you so? Well, for one thing it makes me feel great. But more importantly, it is to make you realize that you should have no self-respect. Clearly you made some deal with the occult to make your way into the psyche of popular culture, when really those putrid piles of week-old meat disguised as books should be gathering dust near the Harlequin novels. How can you hope to love someone else or gain their love when you really shouldn’t love who you are? Sorry, but it ain’t happening. And no army of screaming fan-girls will change that. Fix yourself first before ruining someone else’s life.

And for your information, Jacob is a shapeshifter, not a werewolf.

He Said, She Said #1: Love is in the Air

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Welcome to the first edition of He Said, She Said with Erin & Ryan. Today, our advice columnists tackle some matters of the heart and hopefully not each other. Let’s get started!

“Dear Erin & Ryan,

How do you know you’re in love?”

From Erin:

Ah, Love.

I believe it was best summed up by the prolific Phil Collins who said “when I’m feeling blue all I have to do is take a look at you then I’m not so blue.” How true, Mr. Collins. How true.

You see, starry-eyed advice seeker, “love” is more than fluffy bunnies and fireworks.  Science has taught us that being in love is caused by increases in dopamine, serotonin and other brain chemicals that are also affected by your run of the mill amphetamines. Hooray!

But, you want to know how you can tell if YOU are in love. Simple. Close your eyes and picture the object of your potential love. Are you grinning like a jackass? Yes?

Okay, now picture them doing something horrible. Maybe he or she reaches down and smashes an ice cream cone into your grandmother’s face.  Still grinning? That’s love.

I’m swinging blindly here, I must admit. I can’t pretend to know anything about these fond emotions like love or joy. I am not familiar with their inner workings and deepest darkest secrets. However, I am familiar with acclaimed artist Lisa Frank, whose work no doubt swells up directly from the fount of love itself.  Her doe eyed drawings reach down into the soul and stir the sparkle encrusted butterflies inside me like the highest grade Benzedrine.  I can only assume that basically, if you aren’t puking up rainbows, you aren’t truly in love.

From Ryan:

Are you kidding me, Erin? It’s very obvious that you wouldn’t know love if it was an obnoxious pair of parachute pants that you wore every day because they made you feel “too legit to quit”.

And what’s with all of this “close your eyes and pretend” crap? Are you a Muppet that’s going to teach my ABCs next? But even if I were to concede to this notion, if any woman harmed my Nana, they would be finishing their ice cream in the electric chair. No question about it. There could have been sharp chocolate chips in their cone. More importantly (although nothing is really more important than Nana), you are suggesting that love is either completely aesthetic, or that the biology is caused by these aesthetics. WHAT IF YOU’RE BLIND, NIMROD?! Congratulations, advice columnist. You just ignored a plethora of people that deserve love just as much. Cheers.

No, my friend, what The Hunchback of Notre Lame just said is wrong and is not love. It is not simply just a chemical reaction makes you feel like some rainbow repository. I find that love is just as spiritual as it is emotional. Not necessarily spiritual in the religious sense, but spiritual in the sense of your inner being. When you meet someone and love begins to blossom, you don’t just think of them every waking hour. Some of this time is in fact reflective. You allow yourself to look inside and evaluate, because when you really love someone, you are truly willing to better yourself. Love is as much introverted as it is extroverted. The one you love will open up new realizations as well as warm the cockles of your heart. And as a great man once said, “Oh great, nothing like hot cockles!”

“Dear Erin & Ryan,

How should you act when you’ve slept with your blog host who you currently hate?”

From Ryan:

I’m not sure what you mean by that. Blog host? Did you think I slept WordPress? You realize it isn’t possible to sleep with a website, right?

Although, I do think I know what you are implying in this situation, and let me just say that I think you are one sick individual. Have you seen our shows? Do you see the way Erin and I work together? The brimming hatred? I’d have better luck wooing a rabid bear.

Let’s analyze this further: you’ve put your differences aside and you are willing to work on a blog with this conglomerate of bitterness and venom disguised as a rational person. How do you start? Well, first you’ll need to muddle through all of her crap ideas and make sure the right ones, meaning your ideas, are the only ones being used. But try and be a little gentle about it. After all, you are working together. Statements like, “Right, very funny. Now let’s seriously think about this project.” That will make it sound like you have your priorities in order for the sake of the blog, but you still get that jab in. It also sounds naïve enough to make her think that you weren’t intentionally insulting the troll. But we both know better.

Once you get through the preliminaries, you then have to start posting entries in the blog. Now this is going to be a lot of work, specifically for you. Why? Well, you’re going to have to proofread everything, especially her entries. There is no doubt that they will be filled with horrible grammar, spelling errors, and overall just crap trying to pass for something worth posting. Remember, people are going to read this. Do you really want that jumble of letters (and probably some unnecessary numbers) associated with the brilliance of your insight? Of course not.

Now if we consider what is on our plate already, not only do we not have time for any sort of foreplay, but do we really want to copulate with this fanatical, crazed lunatic who has done nothing but made your job more difficult?

So as a direct answer to your question, how do you handle sleeping with your co-blogger that you hate, it’s simple: it will never happen if you just focus on the task at hand.

From Erin:

Oh god. I’m puking up rainbows.

Improv For Alzheimer’s: ‘A Sense Of Accomplishment’

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http://www.npr.org/2011/08/15/139585522/improv-for-alzheimer-s-a-sense-of-accomplishment

Heard this cool article on NPR this morning.  Doing Improv is good for you!  Now you have heard it from the experts, so come on out and play with us!  It’s good for you!

New Terrorist Alerts by John Cleese

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I got this via email today and I decided I needed to share this:

New Terrorist Alerts by John Cleese:
The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent terrorist threats and have therefore raised their security level from “Miffed” to “Peeved.” Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to “Irritated” or even “A Bit Cross.” The English have not been “A Bit Cross” since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from “Tiresome” to “A Bloody Nuisance.” The last time the British issued a “Bloody Nuisance” warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada.

The Scots have raised their threat level from “Pissed Off” to “Let’s get the Bastards.” They don’t have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years.

The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from “Run” to “Hide.” The only two higher levels in France are “Collaborate” and “Surrender.” The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France’s white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country’s military capability.

Italy has increased the alert level from “Shout loudly and excitedly” to “Elaborate Military Posturing.” Two more levels remain: “Ineffective Combat Operations” and “Change Sides.”

The Germans have increased their alert state from “Disdainful Arrogance” to “Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs.” They also have two higher levels: “Invade a Neighbor” and “Lose.”

Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels .

The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy.

Auditions Part1

Random Ramblings, Upcoming Events 1 Comment »

Thanks to Elise {poses with hands behind head} and Jackie {brings arms in front of self and then up into the air}.  I really enjoyed working with you two last night.

I can’t wait to go up in another Whirly-Bird with Elise.

And I apologize to Jackie for ruining her Curds and Whey both as a waiter and as a spider.

So until my next LAN party, I bid the Silent Movie Star Jackie and the Blue Loving Elise adu.