OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Botanical enthusiasts dying to get a whiff of rare ‘Corpse Flower’
Published: Wednesday, April 27, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Borsch warned us that this column is "R-rated." Does this mean he'll refer to poop? Use a swear word other than "dadgummed"? This will obviously turn out to be one of those "odd story I read on the Internet" columns.
The botanists among us certainly know how to have a good time when it comes to plant watching, and apparently it’s nothing like watching a NASCAR race. I wouldn’t know for sure, though, because I am neither a botanist nor a redneck, although given my Midwestern roots, the jury is still out on the latter designation.
Well, we got the obligatory reference to growing up in Illinois out of the way quickly. What the heck is with the NASCAR reference? Who would compare plant watching to auto racing?
According to various wire service reports, more than 10,000 folks flocked to the Swiss city of Basel and the Basel Botanical Gardens last weekend to watch a big, stinky flower bloom for the first time in its 17-year-life.
And there you have it, folks - the ever-popular "wire service story." The NASCAR reference now makes even less sense, since the story takes place in Switzerland.
I can only surmise that there was nothing else to do last weekend in Switzerland and that the rest of the country was taking a nap, much like the flower itself has been doing the past 17 years.
Oooh, "surmise." Someone got a word-of-the-day calendar for Easter.
The plant is called Titan Arum (Amorphophallus titanum), more commonly referred to as the “Corpse Flower” because as it blooms, it gives off a Major League pee-you that is said to be a cross between rotting cheese and rotting flesh.
Alright, "pee-you" is the last way I would choose to spell that. Google it (in the privacy of your own home). There is sure to be a Latin joke in here somewhere. I'm also counting the use of "Major League" as an unnecessary baseball reference.
The female Corpse Flowers are not very keen on this, which might explain why the plants only bloom every 17 years.
Really, who ever told this man he was funny? I know it's pointless to ask at this point... but still.
So if you’re a Swiss botanist, you have to get your ducks in a row when it comes to scheduling your flower-watching entertainment opportunities as the window is pretty small for the Corpse Flower.
Not only that, but the plant has another distinguishing quality that may attract some people — and it’s at this point in the column that the more sensitive among you may want to cover one eye as you read because it’s R-rated — in that it’s shape is, uh … familiar.
Oh boy.
The genus name “Amorphophallus” is Greek and means “shapeless phallus.” The species name “titanum” means “extremely large.”
You get the picture. See, I told you those botanists (Notasboringus asweappearis) know how to throw a plant-watching party.
There it is! Come on, Mr. Morsch - you used the exact same "hilarious Latin name" thing in your last column. I know you have to try and be funny every single week, but come up with something new, huh?
An Internet search of the weekend festivities reveals a video of the big event, which shows the plant in all its glory surrounded by a bunch of gawkers. There is even a time-lapse portion in the video of the actual blooming, which I thought was about the most interesting part of the whole kit and caboodle, although I didn’t see anybody holding their nose.
"Anybody" does not go with "their." And how would somebody holding his nose have made it more interesting? I love how Borsch's life is so boring that he resorts to random Internet stories for his material.
One of the honchos at the Botanical Institute at the University of Basel, a fellow by the name of Hans Schneider, is quoted as saying: “It [the Titan Arum] is the best thing you can have at a botanical garden. It’s the star attraction. In terms of visitor numbers, we’re at our peak. From now on, fewer and fewer people will visit.”
It just occurred to me that Borsch is mocking something that drew ten thousand - TEN THOUSAND - people, and yet he has been raving on Twitter about the upcoming (big surprise) Three Stooges convention. Let's compare the turnout for the two events, shall we?
I guess viewing the Corpse Flower in bloom is the equivalent of a one-night stand in the botanical world.
...I guess. Again, in Borsch World, flower watching = NASCAR, and the Corpse Flower = a one-night stand. Everybody got that straight?
The Titan Arum is native to the Indonesian Island of Sumatra. Because it is so difficult to cultivate, there have been only 134 worldwide recorded blooms from artificial cultivation of the plant. The last one to bloom in Switzerland did so 75 years ago. And yes, somebody must really keep track of such things to come up with an exact number of 134.
Yeah, because making this flower bloom evidently takes a massive amount of talent. You know, sir, talent? The thing you'll never, ever have?
I don’t think the Swiss, long known for their cheeses and banks, should really add big, stinky blooming plants to the list of attractions in the travel brochures if the dadgummed flowers are only going to make big, stinky appearances once every 75 years or so.
And we have our weekly "dadgummed." Time to get some new words. At this point, will there be any other "joke" in the column other than pointing out that this flower smells bad?
But tourists aren’t the main target of the plant. Although the Corpse Flower remains a bit of a mystery to botanists — at least as much of a mystery as what passes for entertainment on the weekends in Basel — the theory is that the big stinkaroo that the plant produces is what attracts the insects that the plant needs to pollinate.
Okay, so two jokes: this flower smells bad, and flowers in general are boring. How many years in a row has he attended the Stooges convention again? Glass houses, etc.
The corpse-smelling loving critters burrow into the stem that houses the flower and then become trapped by the plant’s pollen, which means they didn’t have anything better to do last weekend either. They are forced to inhale the yuckiness — or hold their breath for a few hours — until the flower dies, at which point the insect chieftains holler, “Hey, will somebody please roll down the window!” The insects then break out of the dead stem and some of them immediately head down to the corner drug store for air fresheners while the others go about their business of pollinating.
Again, exactly two jokes in this paragraph: (1) the flower smells bad, and (2) the flower is boring. Can we move on? Oh, wait, it's the end of the column.
Now the world has to wait who knows how long for the next Corpse Flower to bloom. And if you ask the botanists, I’m guessing they think that’s the thing that really stinks about this plant.
Ho ho. Very clever. I mean, it's not like you've already pointed out that the flower smells, right? It's not like that final pun was incredibly obvious and lame, right? The most frightening thing about watching Borsch for so long is that he's not even improving. He still writes as poorly and lazily as he did over a year ago. If anything, he's getting dumber and lazier as time goes on.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Good Writing
Borsch recently published an interview with Dennis Miller. He didn't even have the guts to take a potshot at Miller's more conservative politics. However, he then published a follow-up interview with some random local comic that Miller mentioned. Check out this sentence:
The Wid hasn’t seen Miller face-to-face in a while, the last time of which was in California just after Miller began to hit it big in the late 1980s.
"The last time of which"? I'm trying to think of a sentence in which that phrase would actually look and sound good.
The best part is, we've just suffered through a whole article about "The Wid" and his memories of Miller... only to discover that the last time he actually saw him was in "the late 1980s." Hey, I saw Dennis Miller on TV in the early 2000s! Interview me!
The Wid hasn’t seen Miller face-to-face in a while, the last time of which was in California just after Miller began to hit it big in the late 1980s.
"The last time of which"? I'm trying to think of a sentence in which that phrase would actually look and sound good.
The best part is, we've just suffered through a whole article about "The Wid" and his memories of Miller... only to discover that the last time he actually saw him was in "the late 1980s." Hey, I saw Dennis Miller on TV in the early 2000s! Interview me!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
We need a moratorium on Geico jokes
OUTTA LEFTFIELD: When it comes to baby dragons, trying to save face proves challenging
Published: Tuesday, April 19, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
ZANY! So the "joke" will be that a lizard was on his face. You know how late-show hosts will have animals on the show and pretend to be scared or disgusted by them? Imagine Borsch trying to do that.
Now here’s a dilemma: What do you say to your boss when she hits you with, “Do you want to get a dragon put on your face?”
Uh … no, I don’t believe I do. Dragons are bigger than me. One would be enough to likely smush my face. Plus, dragons have bad breath from all the fire-breathing and I do not want one anywhere near my nose. But I will say that I don’t ever recall being asked that question, by a boss or anyone else.
I was sure - like, dead sure - that we would get an "I have bad breath" reference there. The "comical misunderstanding" here is somewhat ruined by the fact that there's a GIGANTIC PICTURE of the titular lizard at the beginning of the column.
Making the query even more oddly out of context, Montgomery Media’s big cheese, Betsy Wilson, asked me the dragon question at the 16th annual Montgomery Media Baby and Toddler Expo last weekend at the Philadelphia Convention Center in Oaks. (How the Philadelphia Convention Center got in Oaks is a discussion for another time.)
Yeah, and what's up with Paris, Texas? WACKY! Betsy Wilson, if you were any good at your job, you'd have axed this column a long time ago.
I was scheduled to work the event, but unfortunately I did not have the foresight to do any advance scouting on how to avoid getting a dragon placed on my face. Silly me, I thought the whole soiree was about babies, not dragons.
When he says "work the event"... does he mean wander about and record random things? Because that's what he seems to do most of the time.
I would have anticipated a more appropriate question to be asked at a baby expo, something like, “Would you like some free Boogie Wipes?” When a bunch of babies get together at an event like a baby expo, there is a high boogie potential. So the question of Boogie Wipes — “For quick, effective clean-up and relief of stuck-on boogies” — seems more pertinent than the dragon-on-my-face question. I’m sure Boogie Wipes are indeed effective, but they don’t strike me as designed to wipe dragon off my face.
That's five uses of "boogie" in one paragraph, and two redundant uses of "baby expo." I would have expected a spit-up joke, but maybe that's too edgy for Borsch.
I soon discovered that the “dragons” are actually chameleons, those little lizards that change colors.
Oh, is THAT what a chameleon is???
And a wonderfully enthusiastic Howard Yankow of www.mybabydragon.com had a booth at the event showcasing several of the “baby dragons” designed to educate young and old alike on the “green anoles” (Latin name: Anolis carolinensis). By the way, I’m happy to see that Neil Diamond was on the Baby Dragon Latin Naming Committee.
You know what never gets old? Jokes about Latin! (Note to Borsch: ixnay on the liche-cay.) If he stays true to formula, he will give an "amusing" Latin name to a person he met at the expo. We also get a bonus song lyric reference and a long, fictional title.
But Howard knows everything there is to know about green anoles, which are not much bigger than one’s finger. And while he’s talking, he loves to attach one of the little critters to a person’s shirt, or nose, or ear or glasses — all of which I have — and I (Latin name: Youwannadowhatus withthatlizardsis) made for a pretty big target on Sunday.
I just want to emphasize that I do these "live," sentence by sentence. And I totally called that Latin name joke. If there's one thing my little online experiment has proven, it's that this man has no more than a dozen jokes that he uses over and over again.
According to subsequent research, among the things the green anoles will eat are grubs, crickets, cockroaches, spiders and moths. They reportedly will go for bigger prey, like editors, but the ones that are kept as pets shouldn’t be fed anything bigger than half the size of their head. Lucky for me, because I’m pretty sure a guy my size looks like the Grand Canyon of buffets to a green anole.
This paragraph is the perfect illustration of Borsch attempts at comedy. It's such an awkward, clumsy stumble toward a "punchline" that doesn't even make sense. "They eat bugs. But they might eat bigger things, like me! But don't feed them big things - lucky for me, because I'm fat!"
Fortunately, I have a big nose as well, much bigger than the head of a green anole. But I didn’t know at the time that the green anole that Howard was attempting to attach to my beezer wasn’t looking at it as an appetizer.
Toss in a folksy made-up word for a body part, and you've got a real Borsch Cliche Casserole in the making! This paragraph makes the previous joke even worse. "I also have a big nose - too big for a lizard to eat! But back then I thought it might try." No one can be this grotesque, wimpy and dumb and still function in society.
Once the lizard was securely attached to my nose, a few questions came to mind: (1) Is this thing gonna bite me? (2) Is this thing gonna poop on me?
Poop reference. We're racking them up, folks!
It was big fun for almost everybody, with the possible exception of me. The boss kept snapping pictures as Howard hooked the lizard to my nose, then my ear, then the frame of my glasses, all while I was attempting to maintain my composure and not break into the Wussy Man Yucky Dance. As you can tell by the accompanying photo, I am quite enthused about the whole shebang.
This is so painful.
At one point, the lizard ended up back on my nose a second time, and I thought I heard it whisper, “Fifteen minutes could save you 15 percent or more on car insurance.” It then made like Superman leaping tall buildings in a single bound and landed feet first like a cat on the expo center’s concrete floor some six feet below.
You really only have to say "back on my nose" or "a second time," not both. I like how he compares the lizard's jump to Superman, and the landing to... a cat.
“Oh, I hope it didn’t get hurt,” I said to Howard.
“No, in the wild, they can jump up to 30 feet from tree to tree to avoid predators,” said Howard.
“I’m pretty sure I can jump 30 feet vertically if you stick that thing on me again,” I said silently to myself.
Good thing you didn't say it silently to anyone else, or they'd never have heard you.
But it was all in good fun. And really, having a dragon on one’s face wasn’t actually as bad as it sounds.
Really, actually? Here's another old Borsch strategy - complain about something, play up how terrible/awkward it was, but then back off and say it was a great time. "Sorry, reader - it was even less funny than I described."
Why, it was so easy … even a caveman could do it. At least that’s what the green anole told me.
My, my, how topical. What's next, a Budweiser Frogs reference? But... the Geico Gecko doesn't say the thing about the cavemen. His workflow is starting to slow, also... could he be preparing for another summer hibernation? The literary public can only hope.
Published: Tuesday, April 19, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
ZANY! So the "joke" will be that a lizard was on his face. You know how late-show hosts will have animals on the show and pretend to be scared or disgusted by them? Imagine Borsch trying to do that.
Now here’s a dilemma: What do you say to your boss when she hits you with, “Do you want to get a dragon put on your face?”
Uh … no, I don’t believe I do. Dragons are bigger than me. One would be enough to likely smush my face. Plus, dragons have bad breath from all the fire-breathing and I do not want one anywhere near my nose. But I will say that I don’t ever recall being asked that question, by a boss or anyone else.
I was sure - like, dead sure - that we would get an "I have bad breath" reference there. The "comical misunderstanding" here is somewhat ruined by the fact that there's a GIGANTIC PICTURE of the titular lizard at the beginning of the column.
Making the query even more oddly out of context, Montgomery Media’s big cheese, Betsy Wilson, asked me the dragon question at the 16th annual Montgomery Media Baby and Toddler Expo last weekend at the Philadelphia Convention Center in Oaks. (How the Philadelphia Convention Center got in Oaks is a discussion for another time.)
Yeah, and what's up with Paris, Texas? WACKY! Betsy Wilson, if you were any good at your job, you'd have axed this column a long time ago.
I was scheduled to work the event, but unfortunately I did not have the foresight to do any advance scouting on how to avoid getting a dragon placed on my face. Silly me, I thought the whole soiree was about babies, not dragons.
When he says "work the event"... does he mean wander about and record random things? Because that's what he seems to do most of the time.
I would have anticipated a more appropriate question to be asked at a baby expo, something like, “Would you like some free Boogie Wipes?” When a bunch of babies get together at an event like a baby expo, there is a high boogie potential. So the question of Boogie Wipes — “For quick, effective clean-up and relief of stuck-on boogies” — seems more pertinent than the dragon-on-my-face question. I’m sure Boogie Wipes are indeed effective, but they don’t strike me as designed to wipe dragon off my face.
That's five uses of "boogie" in one paragraph, and two redundant uses of "baby expo." I would have expected a spit-up joke, but maybe that's too edgy for Borsch.
I soon discovered that the “dragons” are actually chameleons, those little lizards that change colors.
Oh, is THAT what a chameleon is???
And a wonderfully enthusiastic Howard Yankow of www.mybabydragon.com had a booth at the event showcasing several of the “baby dragons” designed to educate young and old alike on the “green anoles” (Latin name: Anolis carolinensis). By the way, I’m happy to see that Neil Diamond was on the Baby Dragon Latin Naming Committee.
You know what never gets old? Jokes about Latin! (Note to Borsch: ixnay on the liche-cay.) If he stays true to formula, he will give an "amusing" Latin name to a person he met at the expo. We also get a bonus song lyric reference and a long, fictional title.
But Howard knows everything there is to know about green anoles, which are not much bigger than one’s finger. And while he’s talking, he loves to attach one of the little critters to a person’s shirt, or nose, or ear or glasses — all of which I have — and I (Latin name: Youwannadowhatus withthatlizardsis) made for a pretty big target on Sunday.
I just want to emphasize that I do these "live," sentence by sentence. And I totally called that Latin name joke. If there's one thing my little online experiment has proven, it's that this man has no more than a dozen jokes that he uses over and over again.
According to subsequent research, among the things the green anoles will eat are grubs, crickets, cockroaches, spiders and moths. They reportedly will go for bigger prey, like editors, but the ones that are kept as pets shouldn’t be fed anything bigger than half the size of their head. Lucky for me, because I’m pretty sure a guy my size looks like the Grand Canyon of buffets to a green anole.
This paragraph is the perfect illustration of Borsch attempts at comedy. It's such an awkward, clumsy stumble toward a "punchline" that doesn't even make sense. "They eat bugs. But they might eat bigger things, like me! But don't feed them big things - lucky for me, because I'm fat!"
Fortunately, I have a big nose as well, much bigger than the head of a green anole. But I didn’t know at the time that the green anole that Howard was attempting to attach to my beezer wasn’t looking at it as an appetizer.
Toss in a folksy made-up word for a body part, and you've got a real Borsch Cliche Casserole in the making! This paragraph makes the previous joke even worse. "I also have a big nose - too big for a lizard to eat! But back then I thought it might try." No one can be this grotesque, wimpy and dumb and still function in society.
Once the lizard was securely attached to my nose, a few questions came to mind: (1) Is this thing gonna bite me? (2) Is this thing gonna poop on me?
Poop reference. We're racking them up, folks!
It was big fun for almost everybody, with the possible exception of me. The boss kept snapping pictures as Howard hooked the lizard to my nose, then my ear, then the frame of my glasses, all while I was attempting to maintain my composure and not break into the Wussy Man Yucky Dance. As you can tell by the accompanying photo, I am quite enthused about the whole shebang.
This is so painful.
At one point, the lizard ended up back on my nose a second time, and I thought I heard it whisper, “Fifteen minutes could save you 15 percent or more on car insurance.” It then made like Superman leaping tall buildings in a single bound and landed feet first like a cat on the expo center’s concrete floor some six feet below.
You really only have to say "back on my nose" or "a second time," not both. I like how he compares the lizard's jump to Superman, and the landing to... a cat.
“Oh, I hope it didn’t get hurt,” I said to Howard.
“No, in the wild, they can jump up to 30 feet from tree to tree to avoid predators,” said Howard.
“I’m pretty sure I can jump 30 feet vertically if you stick that thing on me again,” I said silently to myself.
Good thing you didn't say it silently to anyone else, or they'd never have heard you.
But it was all in good fun. And really, having a dragon on one’s face wasn’t actually as bad as it sounds.
Really, actually? Here's another old Borsch strategy - complain about something, play up how terrible/awkward it was, but then back off and say it was a great time. "Sorry, reader - it was even less funny than I described."
Why, it was so easy … even a caveman could do it. At least that’s what the green anole told me.
My, my, how topical. What's next, a Budweiser Frogs reference? But... the Geico Gecko doesn't say the thing about the cavemen. His workflow is starting to slow, also... could he be preparing for another summer hibernation? The literary public can only hope.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Not So Well Played, Mr. Mayor
Are we attracting some real .90-caliber pezzonovante here at Inta Rightfield? Could we have garnered the attention of the very subject of a recent posting? Regarding my gentle ribbing of a letter apparently proofread by Helen Keller:
If you are going grade this, then you should make sure you know what you're doing. (1) Consistency in your punctuation. You have a semicolon in the fourth paragraph right before you start your list of three. Then a period before you start you next list of three in the same parapgraph. Which is it. Or should both be colons?
One word: "parapgraph." Note to everyone: private Internet blogs are now subject to the same stringent criteria as published fund-raising letters.
(2) The committee is an "it," not a "they."
Did "the committee" write the letter? Or did the two gentleman who signed their names to it?
You made that mistake twice in the same sentence. Then you made it again three paragraphs later. Then again five paragraphs after that. At least you're consistent.
I'm consistently referring to the authors of the letter, so yes, I suppose I am.
(3) The 1960's is not possessive. It should be 1960s, but you knew that. (4) The question mark after "drawing card" goes inside the quote marks.
Or does it? Good thing I can make mistakes like this and not feel embarrassed that all the people who voted for me will be reading it and snickering at my idiocy. How does that feel, by the way?
Certainly your teachers in Souderton taught you better? Guess this is what happens when you work for daddy's company.
By Anonymous on Monkeys could do Better on 4/10/11
Oh, Anonymous! If only YOU had been there when the letter was being written! You'd have proofread it! Right?
Let's do a little exercise, shall we? What's worse - four questionable mistakes in a blog post it took me 10 minutes to write, or the ocean of errors contained in the intellectual diarrhea stain of a letter that everyone in town received? What's worse - me, humble little Internet blogger, missing a few fine points, or the mayor of a town not being able to write simple English sentences?
I like the "daddy's company" comment. I guess I must be one of those famous Souderton-educated blue-bloods! The CEO of my company is a black guy, and he's certainly not my dad... unless Mom isn't telling me something...
I look forward to future comments in which Mr./Mrs. Anonymous actually addresses my critique of the letter in question.
If you are going grade this, then you should make sure you know what you're doing. (1) Consistency in your punctuation. You have a semicolon in the fourth paragraph right before you start your list of three. Then a period before you start you next list of three in the same parapgraph. Which is it. Or should both be colons?
One word: "parapgraph." Note to everyone: private Internet blogs are now subject to the same stringent criteria as published fund-raising letters.
(2) The committee is an "it," not a "they."
Did "the committee" write the letter? Or did the two gentleman who signed their names to it?
You made that mistake twice in the same sentence. Then you made it again three paragraphs later. Then again five paragraphs after that. At least you're consistent.
I'm consistently referring to the authors of the letter, so yes, I suppose I am.
(3) The 1960's is not possessive. It should be 1960s, but you knew that. (4) The question mark after "drawing card" goes inside the quote marks.
Or does it? Good thing I can make mistakes like this and not feel embarrassed that all the people who voted for me will be reading it and snickering at my idiocy. How does that feel, by the way?
Certainly your teachers in Souderton taught you better? Guess this is what happens when you work for daddy's company.
By Anonymous on Monkeys could do Better on 4/10/11
Oh, Anonymous! If only YOU had been there when the letter was being written! You'd have proofread it! Right?
Let's do a little exercise, shall we? What's worse - four questionable mistakes in a blog post it took me 10 minutes to write, or the ocean of errors contained in the intellectual diarrhea stain of a letter that everyone in town received? What's worse - me, humble little Internet blogger, missing a few fine points, or the mayor of a town not being able to write simple English sentences?
I like the "daddy's company" comment. I guess I must be one of those famous Souderton-educated blue-bloods! The CEO of my company is a black guy, and he's certainly not my dad... unless Mom isn't telling me something...
I look forward to future comments in which Mr./Mrs. Anonymous actually addresses my critique of the letter in question.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Abrupt Reversal
Cliff Lee only needs one, doesn't he? Two is gravy.
4:49 PM Apr 8th via web
He gave up three in his first start, and you made three Twitter posts about what a horrible pitch he made to Carlos Lee. Now suddenly his career ERA is 1.00? As good as Cliff is, this is a preposterous statement.
Cliff Lee looking kind of pedestrain tonight. He doesn't apear to be fooling anybody.
5:22 PM Apr 8th via web
Wow, what a difference 33 minutes can make! Playing the "Spot the Morsch Typos drinking game" has been known to kill college students.
4:49 PM Apr 8th via web
He gave up three in his first start, and you made three Twitter posts about what a horrible pitch he made to Carlos Lee. Now suddenly his career ERA is 1.00? As good as Cliff is, this is a preposterous statement.
Cliff Lee looking kind of pedestrain tonight. He doesn't apear to be fooling anybody.
5:22 PM Apr 8th via web
Wow, what a difference 33 minutes can make! Playing the "Spot the Morsch Typos drinking game" has been known to kill college students.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Monkeys could do Better
My parents received a letter in the mail. It was so bad that Mike Morsch could have done a better job. Some highlights are below.
Dear Friends and Neighbors of Souderton Community Pool,
Neighbors of the Pool? So this is only going to people who live right next to it? I see what they're going for - "Friends and Neighbors" - but honestly...
The response was outstanding...in a poor economy and in a small town; many steps were achieved together as a team in unison.
Terrible, terrible use of a semicolon. How redundant is that last part? "We did things together all at once simultaneously!"
The next step of this campaign is focused on raising the rest of the money to reach the ultimate goal necessary to open the newly renovated pool by Memorial Day, 2011.
Ouch. Tortured. One would think that raising the money IS the ultimate goal; 1.) raise money, 2.) open pool. But the way the sentence is written, it sounds like there's a hidden mystery step somewhere. 1.) Raise money, 2.) Reach ultimate goal, 3.) Open pool.
The committee is looking for other financial help, but we also hope to receive more financial support from community individuals and local organizations like you - it is that simple!
Wow! What? They're basically saying (poorly): "We want money - that's it!" Here are a few of the features they advertise:
Toddler Pool with raindrops of fun - ... Why "raindrops of fun"? That makes no sense. Nothing - not even fun - is measured in raindrops.
Giant Super Slide - Ooh, Super Fun Happy Slide!
Deeper Diving Well - This does not need to be capitalized - especially since a few points later, they write "Community room." Sloppy.
Enlarged Gals & Guys locker rooms - "Gals"? Are we 1960's youths all of a sudden? What happened to "Mens' and Womens'"?
Souderton's history has grown a hundred-fold since its early charter in 1887
This is laughably bad. Our history has grown a hundred-fold? That's a little slow, considering 1887 was 124 years ago. We're almost a quarter century behind! Or do they mean the town has grown a hundred-fold?
and the borough's success
So just to keep a consistent style - "Deeper Diving Well" is capitalized, "borough" is not. Atrocious.
cannot stop because of lack of pool funding...our community and especially, our kids, families, and seniors need a summertime pool for recreational and competitive swimming.
This is hilariously terrible. "Our community, and especially every single group that makes up the community, needs this!" Also, it should be "Our community... needs," NOT "Our community...need." The comma should come after "community," not "especially." Dear goodness.
In addition, a community pool makes an exciting drawing card to families looking to move into the Souderton area.
This is like watching a toddler try to talk. You know what they're trying to say even if they just can't find the words. A "drawing card"?
Fundraiding chair, Jeff Gross at 215.450.0950 would be happy to speak to you as well as Mike Coll, Souderton Borough manager, about the progress of the pool or giving opportunities. Mike's contact phone number is 215.723.4371.
Who wrote this??? A 9th-grader could put together a more cogent sentence.
How it's written: Jeff Gross will speak with you and Mike Coll about the pool.
What they meant: Jeff Gross or Mike Coll will speak with you about the pool.
The comma after "chair" makes no sense. "Contact phone number"? That's like saying "home location address."
Swimming is a lifetime sport for all ages!
Baseball is an American sport for all Americans!
Please send a gift today of whatever you can afford to bring the dreams of hope to thousands of people of Indian Valley...children, teenages, adults and seniors alike.
Yes, that's right: "thousands of people of Indian Valley." Is the person who wrote this an utter retard? Did they proofread? How ridiculously dramatic is it to suggest that you will bring "dreams of hope" to "thousands" with a donation? Ah yes, the "dream of hope" of all people - a pool with a Giant Super Slide!
With many thanks, John R. Reynolds, Mayor of Souderton
Well, that answers a lot of my questions. Congrats, Souderton! You must be glad to know you're represented by such an intellectual heavyweight.
Dear Friends and Neighbors of Souderton Community Pool,
Neighbors of the Pool? So this is only going to people who live right next to it? I see what they're going for - "Friends and Neighbors" - but honestly...
The response was outstanding...in a poor economy and in a small town; many steps were achieved together as a team in unison.
Terrible, terrible use of a semicolon. How redundant is that last part? "We did things together all at once simultaneously!"
The next step of this campaign is focused on raising the rest of the money to reach the ultimate goal necessary to open the newly renovated pool by Memorial Day, 2011.
Ouch. Tortured. One would think that raising the money IS the ultimate goal; 1.) raise money, 2.) open pool. But the way the sentence is written, it sounds like there's a hidden mystery step somewhere. 1.) Raise money, 2.) Reach ultimate goal, 3.) Open pool.
The committee is looking for other financial help, but we also hope to receive more financial support from community individuals and local organizations like you - it is that simple!
Wow! What? They're basically saying (poorly): "We want money - that's it!" Here are a few of the features they advertise:
Toddler Pool with raindrops of fun - ... Why "raindrops of fun"? That makes no sense. Nothing - not even fun - is measured in raindrops.
Giant Super Slide - Ooh, Super Fun Happy Slide!
Deeper Diving Well - This does not need to be capitalized - especially since a few points later, they write "Community room." Sloppy.
Enlarged Gals & Guys locker rooms - "Gals"? Are we 1960's youths all of a sudden? What happened to "Mens' and Womens'"?
Souderton's history has grown a hundred-fold since its early charter in 1887
This is laughably bad. Our history has grown a hundred-fold? That's a little slow, considering 1887 was 124 years ago. We're almost a quarter century behind! Or do they mean the town has grown a hundred-fold?
and the borough's success
So just to keep a consistent style - "Deeper Diving Well" is capitalized, "borough" is not. Atrocious.
cannot stop because of lack of pool funding...our community and especially, our kids, families, and seniors need a summertime pool for recreational and competitive swimming.
This is hilariously terrible. "Our community, and especially every single group that makes up the community, needs this!" Also, it should be "Our community... needs," NOT "Our community...need." The comma should come after "community," not "especially." Dear goodness.
In addition, a community pool makes an exciting drawing card to families looking to move into the Souderton area.
This is like watching a toddler try to talk. You know what they're trying to say even if they just can't find the words. A "drawing card"?
Fundraiding chair, Jeff Gross at 215.450.0950 would be happy to speak to you as well as Mike Coll, Souderton Borough manager, about the progress of the pool or giving opportunities. Mike's contact phone number is 215.723.4371.
Who wrote this??? A 9th-grader could put together a more cogent sentence.
How it's written: Jeff Gross will speak with you and Mike Coll about the pool.
What they meant: Jeff Gross or Mike Coll will speak with you about the pool.
The comma after "chair" makes no sense. "Contact phone number"? That's like saying "home location address."
Swimming is a lifetime sport for all ages!
Baseball is an American sport for all Americans!
Please send a gift today of whatever you can afford to bring the dreams of hope to thousands of people of Indian Valley...children, teenages, adults and seniors alike.
Yes, that's right: "thousands of people of Indian Valley." Is the person who wrote this an utter retard? Did they proofread? How ridiculously dramatic is it to suggest that you will bring "dreams of hope" to "thousands" with a donation? Ah yes, the "dream of hope" of all people - a pool with a Giant Super Slide!
With many thanks, John R. Reynolds, Mayor of Souderton
Well, that answers a lot of my questions. Congrats, Souderton! You must be glad to know you're represented by such an intellectual heavyweight.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The Viper
Borsch's preview for his latest blog:
Phillies stunk and I froze last night. Then Chin-lung Hu entered the game for the Mets and I perked up.
I listened to the game on the radio. Hu came up to bat and the obvious thought popped into my head: "Hu's on first." Then the radio guys noted the same thing. Leave it to Borsch to run with a stale idea like this...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Hu really is on first
Yep. I can't wait to see how he tries to string this out into a full post.
Jeez, I hope it wasn’t my fault. I finally got to my first Phillies game Tuesday evening. Up to that point, the home team was a perfect 3-0 to start the season. So I show up and everything goes to Hades in a handbag.
Borsch posted a 2-minute video to accompany the game; it's his classic "slow pans across random scenes" style.
Among the things that went wrong: Pitcher Cole Hamels stunk up the joint; it was cold; the Phillies didn’t hit much with runners in scoring position; it was really cold; the New York Mutts, uh . . . I mean Mets, did just about everything right, especially third baseman David Wright, who had four hits, two RBIs and two runs scored; and it was colder than a witch’s watoosie.
Ooooh, the "Mutts"! He went there, folks. He went there. Also, it's spelled "watusi," and it's a dance, not a slang term for "butt." Terrible.
When there’s nothing much to cheer about, I try to think up alternative things for which to root, root, root. Since the Phillies weren’t providing many options, I decided to cheer for:
(1) My hands to stay warm.
(2) My feet to stay warm.
(3) My hind end to stay warm.
All of which were as cold as the Phillies bats seemed to be in the frigid temperatures. Move along pal, nothing to cheer for here.
I'm going to go out on a limb here: it was a cold night, and the Phils lost?
Fortunately, the Mets provided me with a more interesting distraction. In the fifth inning, Mets manager Terry Collins replaced second baseman Brad Emaus with Chin-lung Hu, which immediately prompted me to ask myself, “What’s Hu doing on second? I thought Hu was on first.”
He's on a roll, folks! Can it count as a "joke" when you telegraph the punchline in the title?
Another of the things I do to enjoy the ballgame is keep a scorecard, which I’ve done since I was a kid. Over the years, that has kind of made me the unofficial stat guy for my section. Oftentimes I’ve been asked by those sitting near me how many strikeouts a certain pitcher has or how many hits a certain hitter has at that point in the game.
Can they see the scoreboard? Are they watching the game? Borsch obviously thinks he's slicker than greased diarrhea for doing this. Does he know how absurd this boast is? "Yeah, I'm pretty much the unofficial stat guy when I go to a game. Pretty cool."
The Mets new second baseman, who had entered the game in the fifth, batted in the sixth and singled up the middle. The Phillies fan sitting behind apparently had missed the lineup change.
“What’s the guy’s name on first?” he said after tapping me on the shoulder.
“Hu.”
“The guy on first?”
“Hu.”
“The guy who just got the base hit?”
“Hu.”
Blatantly, blatantly false. Never happened. Not in a million years. Nobody would make it past the second "Hu" and still not get it.
While I was amused by the whole exchange, I thought it best not to push it any further. Phillies fans aren’t exactly known for their patience and I didn’t want to take a chance of getting wacked upside the head by a guy who thought I was messing with him.
You could have just said "Chin-Lung Hu."
I finally had to show him my scorecard on which I had written Hu’s name.
“Oh, right,” he said.
No, he’s on third.
There was once an episode of the old GI Joe cartoon where they get threatening calls from someone known as "The Viper." In the end it's revealed that the guy had an accent and was saying "the wiper," as he was "coming to vash their vindows." This post reminds me of that - one thin, thin little pun dragged out entirely too long. Seriously, a whole post for a "who's on first" reference?
The last "joke" is bad, too. He dropped David Wright's name at the very beginning of the column, but by this point, 70% of his audience will have forgotten it.
Labels: Mets, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield, Phillies
Phillies stunk and I froze last night. Then Chin-lung Hu entered the game for the Mets and I perked up.
I listened to the game on the radio. Hu came up to bat and the obvious thought popped into my head: "Hu's on first." Then the radio guys noted the same thing. Leave it to Borsch to run with a stale idea like this...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Hu really is on first
Yep. I can't wait to see how he tries to string this out into a full post.
Jeez, I hope it wasn’t my fault. I finally got to my first Phillies game Tuesday evening. Up to that point, the home team was a perfect 3-0 to start the season. So I show up and everything goes to Hades in a handbag.
Borsch posted a 2-minute video to accompany the game; it's his classic "slow pans across random scenes" style.
Among the things that went wrong: Pitcher Cole Hamels stunk up the joint; it was cold; the Phillies didn’t hit much with runners in scoring position; it was really cold; the New York Mutts, uh . . . I mean Mets, did just about everything right, especially third baseman David Wright, who had four hits, two RBIs and two runs scored; and it was colder than a witch’s watoosie.
Ooooh, the "Mutts"! He went there, folks. He went there. Also, it's spelled "watusi," and it's a dance, not a slang term for "butt." Terrible.
When there’s nothing much to cheer about, I try to think up alternative things for which to root, root, root. Since the Phillies weren’t providing many options, I decided to cheer for:
(1) My hands to stay warm.
(2) My feet to stay warm.
(3) My hind end to stay warm.
All of which were as cold as the Phillies bats seemed to be in the frigid temperatures. Move along pal, nothing to cheer for here.
I'm going to go out on a limb here: it was a cold night, and the Phils lost?
Fortunately, the Mets provided me with a more interesting distraction. In the fifth inning, Mets manager Terry Collins replaced second baseman Brad Emaus with Chin-lung Hu, which immediately prompted me to ask myself, “What’s Hu doing on second? I thought Hu was on first.”
He's on a roll, folks! Can it count as a "joke" when you telegraph the punchline in the title?
Another of the things I do to enjoy the ballgame is keep a scorecard, which I’ve done since I was a kid. Over the years, that has kind of made me the unofficial stat guy for my section. Oftentimes I’ve been asked by those sitting near me how many strikeouts a certain pitcher has or how many hits a certain hitter has at that point in the game.
Can they see the scoreboard? Are they watching the game? Borsch obviously thinks he's slicker than greased diarrhea for doing this. Does he know how absurd this boast is? "Yeah, I'm pretty much the unofficial stat guy when I go to a game. Pretty cool."
The Mets new second baseman, who had entered the game in the fifth, batted in the sixth and singled up the middle. The Phillies fan sitting behind apparently had missed the lineup change.
“What’s the guy’s name on first?” he said after tapping me on the shoulder.
“Hu.”
“The guy on first?”
“Hu.”
“The guy who just got the base hit?”
“Hu.”
Blatantly, blatantly false. Never happened. Not in a million years. Nobody would make it past the second "Hu" and still not get it.
While I was amused by the whole exchange, I thought it best not to push it any further. Phillies fans aren’t exactly known for their patience and I didn’t want to take a chance of getting wacked upside the head by a guy who thought I was messing with him.
You could have just said "Chin-Lung Hu."
I finally had to show him my scorecard on which I had written Hu’s name.
“Oh, right,” he said.
No, he’s on third.
There was once an episode of the old GI Joe cartoon where they get threatening calls from someone known as "The Viper." In the end it's revealed that the guy had an accent and was saying "the wiper," as he was "coming to vash their vindows." This post reminds me of that - one thin, thin little pun dragged out entirely too long. Seriously, a whole post for a "who's on first" reference?
The last "joke" is bad, too. He dropped David Wright's name at the very beginning of the column, but by this point, 70% of his audience will have forgotten it.
Labels: Mets, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield, Phillies
AMAZING! Men Don't Know Fancy Colors
Outta Leftfield: Bedtime discussion over anchorman's tie turns colorful
Published: Wednesday, April 06, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
I'm interested to see just how fake this "bedtime conversation" with his wife will turn out to be. I'm also predicting that the talk "turns colorful" because they discuss colors.
I am more and more convinced that wives rule the world and we husbands are here just to amuse them (less so, as time goes on, I think).
Wow, here's a novel column idea - women smart, men dumb! What exactly does the "less so, as time goes on" apply to? If it implies that husbands get less amusing, he does a poor job of grammatically connecting the two thoughts.
And where they really seem to have us bamboozled is when it comes to their awareness and knowledge of colors.
... Sort of like that post where he didn't know the color of the bedroom, the couch, or the neighbor's car?
Case in point: citrine.
Show of hands, how many guys knew this was a color? And if so, what color? When I first heard it, I thought it was a 25-cent word for “latrine.”
... Sort of like that post where he is baffled by all the different kinds of candles and soaps.
From my days as a regular Crayola user — which just ended last year — I am familiar with some basic colors: black, white, red, blue, green, yellow, brown, orange. That’s about all I ever needed.
But apparently there are colors I’ve never heard of, like amethyst, fuchsia, bleu de France (a favorite of Pepe LePew and Maurice Chevalier),
Haw haw haw, foreign-sounding names are funny! He does like the Maurice Chevalier references, doesn't he?
buff (a WWE color, no doubt), caput mortuum (Grateful Dead fans will like this one), chartreuse, grullo (a Grillo pad on steroids), lapis lazuli (a backup middle infielder for the old Philadelphia Athletics, I think),
Wresting reference. Suggestion that strange name is obscure baseball player. Can we get some new "joke" material here? Please?
periwinkle (Bullwinkle’s dumber cousin), razzmatazz (the color of the Harlem Globetrotters’ basketball uniforms) and wisteria (yes, it’s a color and not a lane).
Which brings us back to citrine. The way I learned this was a color was quite by accident.
What brings us back to citrine? Wisteria? What's happening?
While I was watching the news just before retiring last Sunday evening, 6ABC anchor Rob Jennings was wearing a tie that didn’t do justice to the word “loud.” It virtually jumped off the television screen, nearly blinding me, which I don’t think was Rob’s original intent. I’m pretty sure he wants me to keep watching the newscast.
That's painful.
“Hey, check out Rob’s tie tonight,” I said innocently enough, waiting for the nightly Blonde Accountant Lotions and Potions Bathroom Tour to conclude for the evening.
“Oh, that’s citrine,” she said matter-of-factly, poking her head out of the bathroom to take a glimpse.
Another thing Borsch loves: adverbs. "I said innocently," "She said matter-of-factly"... it's like the more description he can heap on, the funnier it gets!
“Citrine? What the (bleep) is Citrine? You just made that up, didn’t you?” I said.
“No, it’s a yellow-green,” she countered.
Is that really a "counter"?
“Then why isn’t it called yellow-green?” I offered.
Is that really an "offer"? Wouldn't it make more sense to use "countered" here, since he's actually making an argument? I've said it before and I'll say it again: Michael Morsch is a really, really, really terrible writer.
It’s usually at this point in the conversation where I wish I had the Just Shut the Bleep Up Gene and that it automatically kicked in when I approached a certain level of stupidity.
As it turns out, The Blonde Accountant is very familiar with citrine, which I’m told is the hot fashion color for this season. (Personally, I’d pick Phillies red this year.)
Why? Do you like baseball or something?
I’m not sure who decides what the hot fashion color is for the season, but I do believe one of the requirements ought to be that everybody knows that citrine is not actually the secret ingredient in Listerine or some kind of disease one gets from eating too many oranges.
The more definitions we get, the more hilarious this gag becomes!
To demonstrate, The Blonde Accountant went to her closet and pulled out a sweater on a hanger.
“This is citrine,” she said, holding it up in front of her so as to assure my undivided attention.
Honestly, the sweater looked like lime green to me, which I remember from the 1970s.
Reference to a lime green outfit he used to wear incoming! I'm so sure of it.
As I have shared in this space before, I had a swell lime green leisure suit in 1977 that was the epitome of stylin’ and profilin’, such as that was in 1977. I had no idea then that I was wearing a citrine leisure suit and can only assume that had I known and shared that information with the women of that era, they would have been even more attracted to me in that suit.
Yes, you have shared it before. More times than I can count. You stink.
Of course, if a woman has a citrine sweater, she then must have citrine shoes to match, and The Blonde Accountant did indeed pull out one of the 900 or so shoeboxes in her garage/closet to reveal the citrine shoes.
Ah, you know dem women and dere huge shoe collections, eh? Eh? Ehhhh, get outta heah!
Keep in mind that this particular boudoir fashion show kicked off after the start of the 11 o’clock news. Thanks, Rob Jennings — it’s not like I wanted to go to sleep or anything before I opened my big mouth about your necktie.
I know! I'd HATE to have to talk to my wife about things.
I’d like to report that my citrine schooling concluded for the evening at the end of the impromptu fashion show, but the bedtime discussion continued with me learning that citrine goes best with Navy blue. Sure enough, Rob Jennings probably has a wife at home who knows something about colors because he did indeed have a Navy blue suit on with his citrine tie. I am soooooo glad I asked.
I like the "sure enough" just before the "did indeed." The way he says it, it's like the color of the suit was hidden from view until that very moment.
My Facebook guy friends were no help. They looked up citrine online — just like I did the next morning at work — and acted like they knew what it was, just to make me look like a horse’s patootie. As Facebook friends, they should already know that I’ve never needed any help in the department of looking like a horse’s patootie.
Everybody knows that. It's not just your Facebook friends.
From here on out, I am no longer commenting on the neckties of newscasters. I only hope that Rob Jennings doesn’t have burlywood, carnelian, ecru, gamboge or phlox ties in his collection. If he does, I’ll never get any sleep.
Wow, what a terrible thing! The conversation was literally this long:
"Look at this necktie. The color is unfamiliar to me."
"The color is called citrine."
"I do not know what that is."
"Here, let me show you some examples."
The whole exchange probably took four minutes. What an ordeal!
Mike Morsch is executive editor of Montgomery Newspapers. He can be reached by calling 215-542-0200, ext. 415, or by email at msquared35@yahoo.com.
Call this man. Tell him to stop.
Published: Wednesday, April 06, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
I'm interested to see just how fake this "bedtime conversation" with his wife will turn out to be. I'm also predicting that the talk "turns colorful" because they discuss colors.
I am more and more convinced that wives rule the world and we husbands are here just to amuse them (less so, as time goes on, I think).
Wow, here's a novel column idea - women smart, men dumb! What exactly does the "less so, as time goes on" apply to? If it implies that husbands get less amusing, he does a poor job of grammatically connecting the two thoughts.
And where they really seem to have us bamboozled is when it comes to their awareness and knowledge of colors.
... Sort of like that post where he didn't know the color of the bedroom, the couch, or the neighbor's car?
Case in point: citrine.
Show of hands, how many guys knew this was a color? And if so, what color? When I first heard it, I thought it was a 25-cent word for “latrine.”
... Sort of like that post where he is baffled by all the different kinds of candles and soaps.
From my days as a regular Crayola user — which just ended last year — I am familiar with some basic colors: black, white, red, blue, green, yellow, brown, orange. That’s about all I ever needed.
But apparently there are colors I’ve never heard of, like amethyst, fuchsia, bleu de France (a favorite of Pepe LePew and Maurice Chevalier),
Haw haw haw, foreign-sounding names are funny! He does like the Maurice Chevalier references, doesn't he?
buff (a WWE color, no doubt), caput mortuum (Grateful Dead fans will like this one), chartreuse, grullo (a Grillo pad on steroids), lapis lazuli (a backup middle infielder for the old Philadelphia Athletics, I think),
Wresting reference. Suggestion that strange name is obscure baseball player. Can we get some new "joke" material here? Please?
periwinkle (Bullwinkle’s dumber cousin), razzmatazz (the color of the Harlem Globetrotters’ basketball uniforms) and wisteria (yes, it’s a color and not a lane).
Which brings us back to citrine. The way I learned this was a color was quite by accident.
What brings us back to citrine? Wisteria? What's happening?
While I was watching the news just before retiring last Sunday evening, 6ABC anchor Rob Jennings was wearing a tie that didn’t do justice to the word “loud.” It virtually jumped off the television screen, nearly blinding me, which I don’t think was Rob’s original intent. I’m pretty sure he wants me to keep watching the newscast.
That's painful.
“Hey, check out Rob’s tie tonight,” I said innocently enough, waiting for the nightly Blonde Accountant Lotions and Potions Bathroom Tour to conclude for the evening.
“Oh, that’s citrine,” she said matter-of-factly, poking her head out of the bathroom to take a glimpse.
Another thing Borsch loves: adverbs. "I said innocently," "She said matter-of-factly"... it's like the more description he can heap on, the funnier it gets!
“Citrine? What the (bleep) is Citrine? You just made that up, didn’t you?” I said.
“No, it’s a yellow-green,” she countered.
Is that really a "counter"?
“Then why isn’t it called yellow-green?” I offered.
Is that really an "offer"? Wouldn't it make more sense to use "countered" here, since he's actually making an argument? I've said it before and I'll say it again: Michael Morsch is a really, really, really terrible writer.
It’s usually at this point in the conversation where I wish I had the Just Shut the Bleep Up Gene and that it automatically kicked in when I approached a certain level of stupidity.
As it turns out, The Blonde Accountant is very familiar with citrine, which I’m told is the hot fashion color for this season. (Personally, I’d pick Phillies red this year.)
Why? Do you like baseball or something?
I’m not sure who decides what the hot fashion color is for the season, but I do believe one of the requirements ought to be that everybody knows that citrine is not actually the secret ingredient in Listerine or some kind of disease one gets from eating too many oranges.
The more definitions we get, the more hilarious this gag becomes!
To demonstrate, The Blonde Accountant went to her closet and pulled out a sweater on a hanger.
“This is citrine,” she said, holding it up in front of her so as to assure my undivided attention.
Honestly, the sweater looked like lime green to me, which I remember from the 1970s.
Reference to a lime green outfit he used to wear incoming! I'm so sure of it.
As I have shared in this space before, I had a swell lime green leisure suit in 1977 that was the epitome of stylin’ and profilin’, such as that was in 1977. I had no idea then that I was wearing a citrine leisure suit and can only assume that had I known and shared that information with the women of that era, they would have been even more attracted to me in that suit.
Yes, you have shared it before. More times than I can count. You stink.
Of course, if a woman has a citrine sweater, she then must have citrine shoes to match, and The Blonde Accountant did indeed pull out one of the 900 or so shoeboxes in her garage/closet to reveal the citrine shoes.
Ah, you know dem women and dere huge shoe collections, eh? Eh? Ehhhh, get outta heah!
Keep in mind that this particular boudoir fashion show kicked off after the start of the 11 o’clock news. Thanks, Rob Jennings — it’s not like I wanted to go to sleep or anything before I opened my big mouth about your necktie.
I know! I'd HATE to have to talk to my wife about things.
I’d like to report that my citrine schooling concluded for the evening at the end of the impromptu fashion show, but the bedtime discussion continued with me learning that citrine goes best with Navy blue. Sure enough, Rob Jennings probably has a wife at home who knows something about colors because he did indeed have a Navy blue suit on with his citrine tie. I am soooooo glad I asked.
I like the "sure enough" just before the "did indeed." The way he says it, it's like the color of the suit was hidden from view until that very moment.
My Facebook guy friends were no help. They looked up citrine online — just like I did the next morning at work — and acted like they knew what it was, just to make me look like a horse’s patootie. As Facebook friends, they should already know that I’ve never needed any help in the department of looking like a horse’s patootie.
Everybody knows that. It's not just your Facebook friends.
From here on out, I am no longer commenting on the neckties of newscasters. I only hope that Rob Jennings doesn’t have burlywood, carnelian, ecru, gamboge or phlox ties in his collection. If he does, I’ll never get any sleep.
Wow, what a terrible thing! The conversation was literally this long:
"Look at this necktie. The color is unfamiliar to me."
"The color is called citrine."
"I do not know what that is."
"Here, let me show you some examples."
The whole exchange probably took four minutes. What an ordeal!
Mike Morsch is executive editor of Montgomery Newspapers. He can be reached by calling 215-542-0200, ext. 415, or by email at msquared35@yahoo.com.
Call this man. Tell him to stop.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Borsch Hates Bill Hall
Bill Hall is on deck. Carlos Lee should see all curveballs.
5:32 PM Apr 2nd via web
Borsch doesn't like Hall. He's also apparently pitched 1,416 innings in the major leagues and is a Cy Young-winning pitcher, just like Cliff Lee.
Goddamit, Bill Bleepin Hall is on deck. There is nothing wrong with a 3-2 curveball in that situation. Even with the bases juiced, it's Hall
5:35 PM Apr 2nd via web
DARN YOU CLIFF LEE, YOU DON'T HATE BILL HALL ENOUGH! DISREGARD HIM MORE! The mustard-foaming, beer-spewing anger is palpable here.
Why throw Carlos Lee any fastballs in that situation, even on 3-2. It's Bill Bleepin Hall.
5:40 PM Apr 2nd via web
Agreed. After all, Hall is 0-for-698 in his career against Lee, with 691 strikeouts. He's never, ever gotten a hit or taken a walk. Right? Sheesh, if this is how he gets about one pitch, imagine spending a whole season with him. *Shudder*
5:32 PM Apr 2nd via web
Borsch doesn't like Hall. He's also apparently pitched 1,416 innings in the major leagues and is a Cy Young-winning pitcher, just like Cliff Lee.
Goddamit, Bill Bleepin Hall is on deck. There is nothing wrong with a 3-2 curveball in that situation. Even with the bases juiced, it's Hall
5:35 PM Apr 2nd via web
DARN YOU CLIFF LEE, YOU DON'T HATE BILL HALL ENOUGH! DISREGARD HIM MORE! The mustard-foaming, beer-spewing anger is palpable here.
Why throw Carlos Lee any fastballs in that situation, even on 3-2. It's Bill Bleepin Hall.
5:40 PM Apr 2nd via web
Agreed. After all, Hall is 0-for-698 in his career against Lee, with 691 strikeouts. He's never, ever gotten a hit or taken a walk. Right? Sheesh, if this is how he gets about one pitch, imagine spending a whole season with him. *Shudder*
Minimum Wagers Beware
Stories like this make me glad I was never a waiter. Pompous aesthete James Lileks dines out with his friends at a restaurant:
So we ate and drank and argued and laughed, and it was grand as ever, marred only by the busperson who came by twice to remove items from the table. There’s an art to whisking away dishes.
Does he realize how snobby that sounds? "An art" to "whisking" dishes off a table at a restaurant? Where does he think he is, the Waldorf-Astoria?
This fellow put his shoulders into it. I had to lean back and away, because his excavation of empty plates apparently meant kinetic space transgression, and after a while I started to take it seriously.
First of all, I don't have a clue what this sentence means. But I do know what "excavation" means, and unless this waiter is digging a hole in the table to get those plates, it's not being used right.
The second time he bruised my latitudes trying to get a water glass I had to ask: “Do you want us to leave? Is that it?” Because I had the feeling someone had said A-8 has been there too long, go lean on ‘em. Despite the fact that we kept ordering drinks and desserts.
"Bruised"? What a wuss. So the waiter makes two courtesy trips to remove table clutter, and heavens! Lileks has to lean back in his chair, so he feels justified in making a smart remark to the guy. And yes, I'm sure it's common practice for John Cheney-esque restaurant managers to send in the goons when patrons linger too long.
It was an annoying end to the evening, and I’ve no desire to go back... getting hockey-checked into the wall by the busboy just isn’t an essential part of the dining experience.
Wow, first he just had to "lean back and away," and now he's getting hockey-checked! This is like one of those fish stories. By next week the guy will be using a blackjack on him. Later in the same post:
Hit Target, had a bitter unfriendly checker.
Lileks hasn't met the trip to Target that he can't find something to complain about.
As I may have stated, I put my goods on the belt according to genre, so there’s a frozen bag, a cold bag, a dry bag. Since there’s always a portion of goods that will go upstairs – medicines, light bulbs, Kleenix, socks – I bracket them off with a belt-bar, and note that I would like them in a separate bag, same transaction. (I’ve learned that “transaction” is the term you have to use.)
I was a bagger once. We were trained to sort items by frozen, cold, raw, etc. So, okay. But to use extra belt-bars to "bracket off" other items? That's just... odd. Fussy. Anal. Meh, meh, same transaction, please.
When I said this to the checker today she gave me a look of hot hate over the top rim of her glasses, and I wanted to say “what? What have I possibly done wrong here? Is this too much to ask?”
Lileks obviously has no idea what it's like to work in customer service. "Don't make me move when you gather my dirty plates! Don't give me 'a look' when I make my absurdly particular demands at the supermarket!" Then look what happens next:
She grabbed the milk from the belt and put it on the counter with the rest of the goods, and I’m thinking, oh, crap, I have to ask now.
“Could I have the milk in a plastic bag?” I said.
Hot hate over the top of her glasses.
“It’s just easier to get everything in the house in one trip,” I said.
Most people wouldn't describe their dream job as "checker at Target." Probably boring as heck, you have to stand all day, the pay is bad. Then here comes Mr. Particular - cold stuff here, frozen stuff there, other items barred off - "Same transaction, different bag." Because that's most critical. It's been a long day, so you can't even fake being cheerful about serving this loser. So you start to bag his first item, and right away he has ANOTHER special instruction for you. Because he doesn't want to make TWO TRIPS TO HIS CAR.
They have a nickname for him at Target. I'm positive of it. They talk about him in the break room: "I had Bald Bagger Guy today." "I just had him yesterday! Did he say 'transaction'?"
So we ate and drank and argued and laughed, and it was grand as ever, marred only by the busperson who came by twice to remove items from the table. There’s an art to whisking away dishes.
Does he realize how snobby that sounds? "An art" to "whisking" dishes off a table at a restaurant? Where does he think he is, the Waldorf-Astoria?
This fellow put his shoulders into it. I had to lean back and away, because his excavation of empty plates apparently meant kinetic space transgression, and after a while I started to take it seriously.
First of all, I don't have a clue what this sentence means. But I do know what "excavation" means, and unless this waiter is digging a hole in the table to get those plates, it's not being used right.
The second time he bruised my latitudes trying to get a water glass I had to ask: “Do you want us to leave? Is that it?” Because I had the feeling someone had said A-8 has been there too long, go lean on ‘em. Despite the fact that we kept ordering drinks and desserts.
"Bruised"? What a wuss. So the waiter makes two courtesy trips to remove table clutter, and heavens! Lileks has to lean back in his chair, so he feels justified in making a smart remark to the guy. And yes, I'm sure it's common practice for John Cheney-esque restaurant managers to send in the goons when patrons linger too long.
It was an annoying end to the evening, and I’ve no desire to go back... getting hockey-checked into the wall by the busboy just isn’t an essential part of the dining experience.
Wow, first he just had to "lean back and away," and now he's getting hockey-checked! This is like one of those fish stories. By next week the guy will be using a blackjack on him. Later in the same post:
Hit Target, had a bitter unfriendly checker.
Lileks hasn't met the trip to Target that he can't find something to complain about.
As I may have stated, I put my goods on the belt according to genre, so there’s a frozen bag, a cold bag, a dry bag. Since there’s always a portion of goods that will go upstairs – medicines, light bulbs, Kleenix, socks – I bracket them off with a belt-bar, and note that I would like them in a separate bag, same transaction. (I’ve learned that “transaction” is the term you have to use.)
I was a bagger once. We were trained to sort items by frozen, cold, raw, etc. So, okay. But to use extra belt-bars to "bracket off" other items? That's just... odd. Fussy. Anal. Meh, meh, same transaction, please.
When I said this to the checker today she gave me a look of hot hate over the top rim of her glasses, and I wanted to say “what? What have I possibly done wrong here? Is this too much to ask?”
Lileks obviously has no idea what it's like to work in customer service. "Don't make me move when you gather my dirty plates! Don't give me 'a look' when I make my absurdly particular demands at the supermarket!" Then look what happens next:
She grabbed the milk from the belt and put it on the counter with the rest of the goods, and I’m thinking, oh, crap, I have to ask now.
“Could I have the milk in a plastic bag?” I said.
Hot hate over the top of her glasses.
“It’s just easier to get everything in the house in one trip,” I said.
Most people wouldn't describe their dream job as "checker at Target." Probably boring as heck, you have to stand all day, the pay is bad. Then here comes Mr. Particular - cold stuff here, frozen stuff there, other items barred off - "Same transaction, different bag." Because that's most critical. It's been a long day, so you can't even fake being cheerful about serving this loser. So you start to bag his first item, and right away he has ANOTHER special instruction for you. Because he doesn't want to make TWO TRIPS TO HIS CAR.
They have a nickname for him at Target. I'm positive of it. They talk about him in the break room: "I had Bald Bagger Guy today." "I just had him yesterday! Did he say 'transaction'?"
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