YSaC, Vol. 987: Oy, caramba.
You know, the number 987 has some special properties. For one thing, it’s the 16th number of the Fibonacci series. So, in honor of that, I present to you a very special post*:
Hispanic Little Person Wanted
Hispanic Little Person Wanted
I’m having a party “Fiesta” on [date] with a Mexican theme. Therefore I am interested in hiring a Mexican or hispanic Little Person.
First off some of the reqirements of the potential applicant:
Must be under 4ft tall. No exceptions!
Male or Female applicants considered. (If female must be attractive).
Must be over 21. Will be serving & carring around bottles of Mexican Beer, Tequila, and Mezcal.
Speak Spanish. I know this one is a gimme but.
Be comfortable with wearing a somewhat authentic costume. This will be a sombrero with crown of the hat will be cut out with a bowl of salsa in it and brim of hat will be filled with tortilla chips. Will be wearing a serape as well. Additional costume ideas are welcome.
Great personality and humorus a plus.
Must be comfortable with animals. I already have some Donkeys and Chickens rented.As for compensation I’m thinking around $200 cash plus tips. Party will probably last 6hrs.
I must say, this is an improvement on the typical authentic traditional salsa sombrero, where I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach the chips and salsa bowl. This person may be onto something here.
Thanks to Saul and Jamie, who both sent in this ad. I mean, it’s no Lionel Richie cheese head, but then again, what is?
*No, I have no idea what makes this very special. I just wanted to show off my random and otherwise completely useless and unrelated Fibonacci series knowledge.
These guys know how to party. This absolutely dominates craigslist and has not one sucking attribute, just a small typo, or maybe the ‘humorus’ thing was like a double entendre with a reference to funny bones? Whatever. A + posting. Bravo craigslist. Bravo.
¡Olé!
Wait, why are you applauding CL? They just hosted the ad, rather than generating it.
Maybe I need more caffeine … to understand …
*uses semaphore to direct supertanker ship full of coffee to dock in the slip nearest the Snark Lounge*
I can’t wait until the Mothership gets here. 8)
I agree with Craig! At least they used the proper terms in the ad. It would have been totally tasteless and racist if they had phrased the ad: Mexican Midget Wanted.
If they are going to put a chip and dip tray on the head of a Mexican little person, I am frightened to think what is in store for the donkeys and chickens.
Animal Party? Eww. Ay caramba indeed.
Visions of “Bachelor Party” danced in my head.
I got dizzy and had to sit down.
Perhaps a lovely Spanish play rendition of Animal Farm?
*keeping fingers crossed*
Maybe “Ew caramba” would be the appropriate phrase?
I suspect this is a set up for a porno. Actually there is probably already a porno of this.
Well, there is now that you’ve Rule 34*ed the post.
*Also a Fibonacci number – the llamanun ain’t the only one here with MFS (Mad Fibonacci Skillz).
And now I have Freeze Ray stuck in my head again. Jeeze.
I’ve always wanted to go to a donkey show!*
I’ll be over in the corner getting myself another coffee slice if anyone needs me.
*Not really.
Also, to come at it from the other side, farm animals around food? Eew. Donkeys aren’t so bad, as far as I’m aware, but chickens are nasty, messy, mean birds. If you drop a crumb, they’ll likely take your foot off trying to get it.
Or an egg… if you drop an egg in a yard with chickens, they’ll crowd each other out to eat it.*
*True story**
**Back to the trenches! Anybody want to write about the lymphatic system for me?
No, but we’ll gladly do papers on ethics.
Awww, too bad I can’t recommend anyone for this job. Most of the Mexicans I know, of all heights, are too busy working 12 or 14 hours a day or working and going to school to pick up this extra money, and can’t dress stereotypically so that they can (most likely) be the butt of jokes. Also, Spanish is not necessarily a “gimme” as many of Mexican descent in this country are from families that have been here longer than the Anglos in the area, and may well speak only English at this point.
/matt[e?]
Here in San Diego, we occasionally encounter Mexican Indians who speak their own language, as well as people who speak a dialect of Mexico that is not Spanish.
Edit: Drat, I left my corey tags in my other sombrero!
Not only that, Windy, I’m wondering if this person could really tell the difference between a Mexican and, say, an Ecuadorean, Peruvian, or some of my Cuban friends. *plots*
I’m pretty sure their only real criteria are:
short
not noticeably European
Spanish-speaking
tolerance for cultural humiliation
My friend from Barcelona would probably qualify to work the bar (he speaks Catalan, so does that mean he can only talk to felines?).
He’s “the most interesting man in the world” and probably knew Che Guevara and Don Quixote.
Cool, mudsy, at least we know who’ll be bringing the beer!
I guess I’ll be bringing the mud.
😉
I would be happy to speak gibberish at them but sadly I am not under 4 ft tall.
I’m not so sure about that. Would Sparky be able to tell Spanish from Portugese? Or even from Russian, Arabic, or Czech? I’m thinking not.
[corey]New Mexico has two populations of Spanish residents – those who settled the state in the 1500s and 1600s, and those who have been coming here much more recently. The original settlers were so isolated from other Spanish speakers that their language developed on its own into a distinct dialect, one that is sadly dying. As an example, the rest of the Spanish-speaking world uses “murcielago” for bat, but the settlers of New Mexico called the flying mammal “raton volador”, literally flying rat. Shamed to say, I’m part of the reason why this rich dialect is dying out – I didn’t learn the Spanish my parents speak. [/corey]
[indignant at racist overtones]So this person needs to be more specific in their wholly offensive ad. If they don’t want their guests or their insufficiently-compensated serving/butt-of-jokes person to be confused by disparities in dialect, this person needs to specify something along the lines of “fringe dialects, while interesting in academic study, would not be accepted in this environment”.[/iaro]
7 stories posted at the tall tale teller’s blog. If you come by, please say hi.
So wearing chips and salsa on your person is somewhat “authentic” Mexican? What do we suppose this person did for Easter parties?
Ovulated.
This made me snort. Thank you for my morning chortle.
I agree. My snark was a little out of joint after reading this ad initially, but Taco got me giggling with one, perfect word. 😀
I was going to guess Crucifixions, but that’s so overdone these days!
However, we do know that for Christmas they’d want them to dress up as a dentist and call themselves Hermey.
Kinky.
**Heads to corner**
Anyone want empanadas?
Is this where the yousuck crowd draws the line at snark? Ha! Phenomenal. People who can’t spell are dolts. People who can’t punctuate are schleps. But a party with little guys wearing chips on their head and a couple chickens and donkeys and the shark has been jumped. I’ll go in the corner and party by myself.
Corey – even Snark Lounge denizens have standards.
And, since you are in the corner already, do you mind cleaning up the place? It’s been filled constantly lately.
kthxbai!
Ya I’ll straighten it up a little. I have my ipod and happened to bring my feather duster today so no problem.
Wait, where did the ad mention sharks? I hope the little person gets hazard pay for that!
The sharks are going to be pulling little cart-shaped rafts with churros in the pool.
When I was little, I used to dream about being a walking talking bar table.
Oh wait, that’s what my uncles DID use me as, at least until I grew enough to put my army-serving uncle on the floor. I still have a flat spot on top of my head from where they used to rest their elbows. And I don’t even speak spanish. 😉
Corey, I’m curious. Maybe you were here too early to see some of the replies, but I see lots of good snark above. Why do you think we aren’t going to take aim at a total douche-sombrero who thinks of certain segments of the population as robo-waiters?
Douche-Sombrero is the new Ass-Chapeau.
“Douche-Sombrero” is SO gonna be the name of my new band. When I get one. And when I learn to play an instrument. And learn to sing.
Since when did ability to play an instrument and singing talent fit in the requirements necessary to headline a band? I once worked an N-Sync concert (one of the only two crew shirts I’ve never worn, thank you) where one of the boys tripped during a dance and got up with help from another without a single break in the “music”, and then the group spent at least a half hour introducing their “band”, the folks on stage with them playing with the things that passed as musical instruments.
Before I get yelled at by those who liked boy bands (plus maybe a few who still do) I’m gonna drag this heavy recliner in the corner and hide behind it.
What’s the other one?
Yanni. Good crew shirts have a symbol chosen by the band in the upper left corner of the front, sometimes a list of cities on the tour on the back. A few other good designs are album covers or other artwork covering most of the back. My Yanni crew shirt has his head completely covering the front of the shirt. I think even if I liked his music I still wouldn’t voluntarily wear that shirt.
Ya, I was still getting down from last night and I was totally bitter that I had to walk over to the table to get my goodies. Initial reports showed that there was more sensitivity than snark. My bad. I take full responsibility.
Meh… don’t sweat it.
Remember —” Ppppbbbttt” That used to be my philosophy… now it’s “Eat dessert first… always”
My philosophy comes from a professor who taught a class on Victorian Literature which I took as an undergrad. I think he was bitter after reading Jane Eyre one too many times. Before the final, he gave us one tip: “Just don’t suck.” I think that sums life up pretty well.
“My dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island.”
Ginsu has the sharp wit today.
I can’t remember, do we go to the corner for puns?
No. You need to go out the door and down the hall and hang out with the Sham Wow guy.
Damn his eyes!
I wanna wear a Nacho Hat!
Nacho Nacho Nacho Nacho HAT!
Wouldn’t a TacoHat be more appropriate?
What do you call a hat that doesn’t belong to TM? Nacho hat!
*make some room for me in the corner*
Ya know, most of the time the vague references in the YSaC titles, the songs spoken of and the movies/tv shows y’all go on about are completely lost on me.
Completely.
But, not today.
Taco, you have managed to implant an earworm that will soon make me want to BURN ALL THE THINGS!!! Including THE PUDDING!!!!
Gaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!
I think this party (and perhaps all parties) would be improved if we put the Poncho Moose in a Nacho Hat. Maybe even a Poncho Moose in a Nacho Fountain Hat.
Or the poncho-moose wearing a nacho fountain and the chips hat!
All parties can be improved by the addition of the Poncho Moose.
If I kneel, I’d be about 4 feet tall, and you can use the antlers for bottle openers.
Sign me up!
Can we use the moose as a piñata too?
No, that’s what the candy man is for.
Nacho Nacho Hat
I want to wear a Nacho Hat
Nacho Nacho Hat
I want to be a midget!
Chips
Can’t you taste my chips
Salsa
Can’t you taste my salsa
Spanish
Can’t you hear my Spanish
Donkeys
will you ride the donkeys
Chickens
will you ride the chickens
Sparky
won’t you smack the sparky
Pinata
Sparky is a pinata
Pay me
do you think he’ll pay me
You can spot a Sparky, he’s drooling on the floor
His nacho hat and serape are hanging on your door
Stupid as a stump, his shoes he cannot tie
His CARSEAT IS PINK, that aint no freakin’ lie
You can best believe he’s racist as can be
likes to post on Craigslist so his brain cell we can see
Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey
Nacho Nacho Hat
you’ve got to wear
that Nacho Hat
Nacho Nacho Hat
You’ve got to wear some Nachos!
Instead of Village People’s Macho Man, Taco’s comment made me hear Nacho Man.
[edit]And then I see Lara’s comment and feel better I’m not the only one.[/edit]
I wanna dress up as Batman!
No reason, I just have a thing for Batman.
How bout Spidey?
http://www.yousuckatcraigslist.com/?p=3500
It’s the cape, isn’t it?
Everything’s cooler with a cape.
Partially the cape, partially the cowl with the little bat ears.
I think the poster of the ad would be very appropriate in Asshat Sparkington’s avatar’s fashions!
I will inform my tailor to make Sparky an authentic Mexican kitsch nacho sombrero that will compliment his butt crack beautifully.
Batman is the other answer to every question. He even out weighs Al Gore in that respect.
Who is that masked man?
Batman
Who is that guy wearing a form fitting suit that shows his genitals?
Al Gore
Whoops, slipped into the Al Gore trap again.
I’m Batman!
What is the link in your name supposed to bring up?
(Also, when your alter ego is the other 4 of the 5 most recent comments up top, it’s harder to keep you identity secret. Just a tip…)
Batman never was very good at keeping his identity a secret. I mean who wouldn’t notice that big cave with all the crazy technology when they read the electricity meter.
Dear little people,
Your dignity is worth 33.33 an hour, here’s your sombrero.
I take it that’s only half scale?
How much is it without the sombrero?
How much is it with a fake accent?
Cuidado Las llamas!!
How much to dress up like a ham sammich?
Watch it!
Hammy, you don’t want to be the meat in a Snark Lounge sammy?
*corner*
What, and give up my position as the cheese?
Well, if you are happy with the fact that The Cheese Stands Alone, you can stay in that position.
He’s the cheese Lola! Smelly, moldy and holey!
The real question is…
*puts on fedora*
Who’s the tomato?
YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaa
Oh wow. And to think we have to only have to wait until Vol. 1,597 for the 17th number!!!
I’ll be here! Unless, of course, I’m not. That would suck.
Indubitably.
Totally! Who would be there to punch us?
I ear’d Mike Tyson works cheap…
Since today is Vol. 987, that would be in another 610 posts.
Fun with math time!
Assuming the Llamanun and Ostrimu (BBUT) continue to post five times a week, it would take 122 weeks, or about 2.3461538 years.
The date would be September 12, 2013.
What would we do without you. I guess I’ll have to stock up on Cheetos to get me through until then.
09-12-13 —-> 9 + 1 + 2 + 1 + 3 = 16 —–> The square root of 16 = 4 or -4
Coincidence? I think not.
🙂
INCONCEIVABLE!
This ad is surely a sign of man’s inhumanity to Little Men. Do we think Sparky McCarambason here is male or female? Should we all show up at the party walking on our knees, and complain that the chips and salsa are out of reach? Y’know, my mom would have met the height requirement if she had been a foot shorter. Probably the right foot.
Dorf Goes to a Party!
My Mom actually is 4 ft. But she is not Mexican and would never want to meet Sparky McCarambason. I really like to think of Sparky McCarambason’s calls from creditors and telemarketers. The possibilities for screwing that name up are fantastic. Plus I want Sparky to be tortured.
Wow, it’s hard to be sure the ghostcat is actually in the box. I see the catnip mouse twitching a bit, so that’s a good sign.
I’ll try not to shed too much and leave piles of exoplasmic hair everywhere.
This CL ad is actually a troll post from Greensboro back in 2009. At least, I’m HOPING that it was a troll post!
But troll post or not, it is perfect fodder for the Snark Lounge. You people make my day.
Why stop at real Mexican little people when there’s shoe polish? C’mon, man, think outside the box!
Because I think that Snooki said she was busy that weekend.
But good to see that you’re thinking!
🙂
OT and NY Times crossword spoiler:
In a strange coincidence, today’s puzzle theme has to do with drmk’s random and useless trivia. Spooky…
“A Fiesta to Remember”
Gerk thought the party was going swimmingly. The Mexican theme was certainly festive and colourful, there were burros and chickens scattered around the yard, he had a piñata to hang for later, and of course, the food he was serving was delectable, genuine Mexican fare: Tacos, burritos, churros, artichoke dip, chili con carne, arroz con garbanzos — but the centerpiece really was the more mundane nachos with salsa dip. It wasn’t the food itself so much as the serving tray was made out of a sombrero, with the nachos around the brim and the bowl set in a cutout at the peak, all of which was worn by a Mexican little person, who was milling through the crowd offering his snacks to the assembled guests.
Gerk mentally patted himself on the back. The turnout was better than expected and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves; his ample back yard was full of the animated chatter of people smiling and laughing alternatively between bites of his authentic cuisine and drinks of the plentiful booze that flowed. Of course, the mezcal was probably as much a social lubricant as anything else, but that was the point, wasn’t it? People wanted to have a good time and he was giving it to them. Plus, a party this successful was sure to raise his social standing, which was the real reason he was holding this gathering.
“Great party,” said a voice behind him.
Gerk turned and saw his friend Orny approaching. “Hey, thanks, glad you could make it.”
“Great turnout, and the food is great, too,” Orny continued.
“Thanks again,” Gerk beamed. “I put a lot of thought and hard work into this. I wanted to make sure everyone had an awesome time.”
“Well, it looks like that’s working out pretty well for you,” Orny replied. “This had to have taken a while to plan and get everything together.”
“Not as much as you’d think, there’s this great Spanish market downtown that helped me with most of the supplies, so that made things easier.”
Off in the distance, on the other side of the yard, a woman let out a short, sharp yelp. She quickly spun around and confronted the small Mexican, who appeared to be apologizing profusely for bumping into her.
Orny’s look turned pensive. “Don’t you think the mdiget–”
“‘Little people’,” Gerk corrected. “They preferred to to be called ‘little people.'”
Orny nodded again. “Right. Don’t you think the, um, little person was a bit … I don’t know, culturally insensitive?”
“How so?” Gerk asked.
“I don’t know, I mean, you hired this guy specifically because he was a little and Mexican, swaddled him in stereotypical 19th century mexican clothes, and you’ve got him wandering around like a human serving dish. Doesn’t that seem a little … demeaning to you?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, my ad was pretty clear and specific about what I was looking for, and I doubt Ortega would have answered it if he wasn’t okay with that. I am paying him $200 for it, I think that’s more than fair compensation even if he is a little put off by it. Haven’t we all done things we didn’t like for money?”
“I guess,” Orny said.
“Plus, nobody else seems to have a problem with it. They seem to like the novelty of dipping their chips in his hat.”
Another woman yipped, and again Ortega apologized profusely. He seemed to be having a problem with that. Gerk hoped he wasn’t dipping into the mezcal himself.
“True,” Orny said. “I dunno, maybe it’s just me. No big deal, just thought I’d bring it up. I’m still having a great time. I think you might need more bean dip soon, though.”
“Thanks, I’ll get the wife to bring more out.”
Orny left to mingle with the other guests. Yeah, maybe it was a little insensitive — just a little — but there’s no harm being done. Everyone was having a great time, there was plenty of food and drink, and even Ortega seemed, if not entirely happy, at least noncommittal about the whole thing. It was a job, after all, and two bills was a good day’s pay, especially for an immigrant. Gerk had to mentally pat himself on the back again.
—
Ortega winded his way through the crowd, letting people periodically pick tortilla chips off his sombrero and dip them in the bowl of salsa embedded in the crown. The hat fit nicely, he had to admit, so he didn’t have to be quite so careful walking around lest his hat slide off; it stayed pretty firmly in place, bolstered by a strap that fit snugly under his chin.
That didn’t do much to make him feel any better about his job, though. He felt ridiculous, dressed up in period Mexican garb, made to walk around like a plato with legs indentured in servitude to overpriviledged suburbanites like the underclass he was made to feel. If he didn’t need the money — and if this gig didn’t pay as well as it did, however degrading it was — he would never have answered the ad. But he had a family to feed, both here and back home, so he had to take what he could get.
He meant that both in terms of employment and enjoyment — you found joy where you could, particularly when it was in short supply — and he knew a thing or two about the few benefits of coming up short. Ortega spotted an attractive woman up ahead. She had flowing blonde hair and dressed in a tight-fitting miniskirt. His favourite kind. Slowly, surreptitiously — which wasn’t difficult given that most people here regarded him as mobile furniture anyway — he walked up behind her, reached out, and gave her rump a good, solid goosing.
The woman yelped and quickly spun around to confront him, assuming at first that her gooser would be roughly eye level with her. It took her a moment of searching before she looked down and realized she had just been accosted by a sombrero full of nachos and salsa.
“Lo siento, señora,” Ortega quickly apologized as she knelt down to confront him. “It is hard to see under here, and I accidentally bumped into you with my sombrero.”
The woman’s expression quickly softened. “Oh, that’s okay. You’re forgiven. Just be careful next time.”
“Gracias, señora, gracias.”
Gracias, indeed.
LOL! And in a strang(er) twist….I actually know someone named “Ortega”.
I’m not sure Sparky knows the word you. Somewhere in his education by rabid weasels he missed the chance to learn pronouns. This represents a great failing in our society to better educate rabid weasels.
I’ll take it up at the next Rabid Weasel ISD board meeting, Lara, if you bring the nachos.
Deal?
I am there! I’ll bring my resident midget with the nacho hat.
This is what I get for sleeping in on my day off… late to rise, late to snark.
I don’t have much to add to this today but I do have a little story that always amuses me. It’s slightly OT but does deal with people of Hispanic descent.
I live in Boise. There are a decent amount of Hispanic peoples here, mostly due to agriculture. Many of them do not speak English very well but they try for the most part.
My husband is a Heinz 57 of ethnicity. The majority of it is Asian (Chinese and Japanes) and Pacific Islander (Hawaiian and Filipino). He also has the odd bit of Portuguese in there, too. No Hispanic. None.
He works in a grocery store, handling the ‘variety’ items… the ones that change nearly every day so he’s very busy. He gets stopped all the time to be asked where things are or where they have gone since displays move almost daily. He is not Hispanic. He speaks English and a bit of Japanese.
At least once a month, if not more often, a person of Hispanic origin will stop him and ask him IN SPANISH where something is. He will look at them for a moment then tell them he does not speak Spanish, only English. They proceed to get very grumpy at him for this. He has had people chew him out for not speaking Spanish. He even had an older woman scold him because ‘how dare he not know his native tongue.’
He had a bilingual white doctor once that came into the exam room speaking Spanish at him. A pawn store guy marked his ethnicity as ‘H’ once. Hispanic people out shopping will complement us on our toddler in Spanish directed at Brandon.
I find it hilarious that they cannot tell the difference between my Asian/Pacific Islander husband, and their own people. We need to teach Brandon Spanish… he’d make the perfect spy, apparently.
He’s also fairly short. If he walks on his knees, he could totally be under 4 feet tall. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind faking Spanish for 200 bucks plus tips… hmmm…
/End rambling story.
A friend of mine has that issue too. He’s a mix of Chinese, Indonesian, and Malaysian (which is where he grew up).
Eventually he got tired of the Hispanic population berating him for not knowing Spanish, so he just looks confused answers in either Malay or Cantonese whenever people start speaking Spanish at him. After a few minutes of that he’s usually left alone (And it’s damn funny too).
New York residency has taught me not to assume anything based on how someone looks. I know people of Indian/Pakistani descent from Guyana and Trinidad, Chinese from the Caribbean, African-Italians, have a businesswoman in my neighborhood who is Vietnamese but fluent in Spanish, and work with a woman who, when I started here, had blonde hair, had just come back from a cruise with a tan, and has an Irish surname; I thought she might have been Latina with a deep tan – she’s Filipina. One of my white relatives has a daughter who looks Mexican but has an African-American parent. I have (currently) blonde hair, and have had ginger and light brown hair while living here, but regardless I’m also noticeably pasty and blue-eyed. This, however, does not stop people in my neighborhood from addressing me in Spanish, both in businesses and on the street, though I have also been taken for Russian, Greek, Jewish, Egyptian (?!?), and Irish (fractionally accurate). I pretty much do not assume anything about anyone at this point.
All of this just reinforces my theory that the safest, non-assuming greeting is always, “Howdy-ho buckaroo!”
Then people know you are weird right from the get-go, but for reasons other than stereotyping.
I’ve started shouting:
PUDDING NOT ON FIRE!
at people in greeting. I’ve had a lot fewer people hasseling me about… anything really.
*dessert tourette’s*
I had desert Tourette’s once, but it got pretty monotonous.
I guess you got your just deserts*, then.
*Yes, that is the correct way of spelling the phrase. Merriam and Webster say so.
SAHARA!
*Damn*
I actually just finally met a man who didn’t run away on the first date because I told him Galileo’s finger was snapped off in transit when he was moved from one grave to another and now resides in a glass egg in Italy. That’s how I establish my weirdness and the weirdness scale/tolerance of the person I am with.
I wonder if Rosetta Stone has a language course in Speedy Gonzales?
“Holy frijoles, uno pussy gato. ¡Andale! ¡Andale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba! ¡Yiii-hah!”
Along the same vein, a co-worker is Iraqui but speaks flawless English and you would be hard-pressed to quess her national origins if you didn’t hear her name. Her young daughter, however, does not like to acknowledge the Iraqui part of her heritage, and constanly tries to convince my friend that she is mistaken and they are Mexican. Rather cute, but also how sad to feel shame at your own heritage, which you had no say in.
Hey, I’ve been keeping my eye on my mailbox, and my invite to this totally awesome party hasn’t arrived yet! What gives?
Yeah sorry I forgot the contact info, hornOplenty@olympusmail.god
Beware of Greeks bearing pita horns!
!elebenty!! adores to the yaya puppy!!!
“Be comfortable with wearing a somewhat authentic costume. This will be a horn with top of the horn spearing some gyro meat; the horn will be made of pita bread. Will be wearing a toga as well. Additional costume ideas are welcome.”
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where I was reduced to helplessly laughing so hard I actually cried. Bravo, HamSter.
Are you trying to say you are horny Hammy?
Finals have killed my snark. That is all.
Yes, but you’re still alive. Join us when you recover.
I’m sorry, but could you elaborate? Please write you essay answer in the blue book (and show your work).
Muddy, I think you dropped an r.
It’s my fault. I stole it yesterday when I needed to make struff.
What, the answer has to be in a blue brook?
No, no. That’s totally the way I talk. Hehe…
And yes, it was totally Taco’s fault. He said something about needing it for Scabble or something like that so I gave it to him not even thinking I might need it today. And now, I find that I needed it twice!
I’d have been okay if he was playing Yahtzee.
Should have been, write u essay. Much better. 8)
You’ve got one week to rest and recoup… then we’re doing a snark transplant.
We could try shock treatment.
*SNAP*
*Jingly Jingly Jingly*
You know you have to be wearing the thong when you do that….
No… no he doesn’t… fully clothed is the only option. I haven’t replaced my welding goggles, yet.
With a little Spanish man,
Twas on a night like this,
Guests were peek-a-booing down
Towards the salsa dish
I whispered, don’t spill the chips, and he sighed si si si!
Donkeys were starting to stray, chickens were clustered apart.
Small and yet humorous, he: serving beer well is an art!
We made a promise and sealed it with 200 cash,
Ah, yes, my little Spanish man, you gave my party dash.
Oh, my little Spanish man, though I treated you like trash.
Si, mi hombrecito, si, dwarf-bashing has panache!
If any of you click ghostcat’s red name, you won’t be disappointed.
It’s true. I have her in my google reader :-p
Well, I’ve got nothing.
Was called out early to deal with annoying problems. Then, managed to get a loan of an XP disk to try and repair my desktop.
No joy.
Keys do not match, naturally. The stinking Repair console will not let me wipe and installation properly to reinstall XP (for which I may not have a good product key–thanks, Yosarian, for the Catch-22^2).
So, some clown on CL who has no idea how offensive using any person as a ambulatory dip-n-chip tray while also having to be a “cute” little person at a soiree of snobbish-sparkie leaves me quite flat. Drained. Devoid of compassion. Over-inclined to setting up a gauntlet for a great deal of Smiting the Sparks.
I do not have a rosy outlook on life just now. Perhaps feeding the cat will help. But, this day has pretty much taken a high dive into the deeper part of the sewage-holding tank and into the under-tow . . . perhaps I’ll be seen again, or not
Fiesta is party in Spanish. So this person is having a party “Party in Spanish which is capitalized for no reason” with a Mexican theme, as opposed to another Hispanic country. And they want either male or female, so I guess that rules out… what? transgendered little people? And what is a gimme but? Is it like… like a but that always wants stuff? Like in the little kid song gimme-gimme-never-gets?
My sincere wish for all of you tonight is that you have or will have or have had a dinner as delish as the one my honey made for me! Yummmmmmm.
Yum! I just brought home chinese takeout… it was pretty delish too.
Blah blah blah, Ghostie Cat! Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Taos!
I will say, this person must be very dedicated to have gone to the trouble to rent donkeys and chickens for a party. Did he put stuff in the water too? Just to round out the sterotyping?
He could have used that money for more beer, you know.
Where do you rent chickens anyway?
Whatever. I’ll be at Moe’s enjoying the nice atmosphere and sanitation standards. And the treating of people like human beings.