Neon Wedding

My friend was hired to make custom pillows and drapes for a wedding. She showed me the fabric, which made me cringe.

The first fabric was HOT PINK with a raised swirl pattern. (My friend called it "Hello Kitty fingerprints"). The material felt odd to the touch, like some combination of acrylic and paper.

I was in awe that someone over the age of 13 would use those at all, much less at a wedding.

Then my friend showed me some furry, neon green fabric destined to become pillows for the same wedding. Imagine if someone had kidnapped a group of Sesame Street characters, spilled radioactive waste on them, and skinned the especially shaggy ones. Voila, pillow shams.

I was speechless, but that was not the end. Visualize chartreuse satin napkins with hot pink rhinestones. Also, think about bright yellow and orange ottoman covers.

I think the wedding hall will look like they hired a Technicolor clown to toss his blindingly bright cookies all over the venue.

What surprised me the most was hearing that the wedding coordinator they were using refused to accept any weddings with budgets less than $100,000.

When your wedding costs about the same as the gross national product of a fourth-world country, maybe you should hire a coordinator who can convince you to not take acid when planning your wedding.

Alleviating Boredom With a Pickaxe

My father is retired, and understandably bored.

One day he decided our backyard was not flat enough, and he wanted to level it out. As he passed me with a pickaxe I thought, "This can't be good."

My pessimism was validated a little later, when I heard him screaming, "Turn off the water! Turn off the water!"

He had punctured a pipe in the backyard.

The pipe was repaired and we thought he learned his lesson.

We were wrong.

Some time later he decided to level the yard again. My mother admonished, "Remember what happened last time."

He said, "I'm not stupid. I know where the pipes are now!"

A little while later he discovered a new pipe.

The Most Frightening Furniture Ever

Have you ever wanted a coffee table that looks like a glass disk being held up by an obese man in a diaper? Look no further. For only $225 (not including shipping), you can have Basho the Sumo Wrestler.

Yes, you are only a few clicks away from having furniture with a face . . . hands . . . knees . . . ample buttocks . . .

Soon, when you get up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, you can experience the joy of taking a few sleepy seconds to decide whether the man crouching in your living room is an armed intruder or just your faithful servant, Basho.

eHarmony Rejects

I saw a commercial the other day that left me perplexed and somewhat amused.

In it, a young woman who had been rejected by eHarmony speculated as to why, but only mentioned benign things such as library fines.

The commercial concluded by inviting everyone to their supposedly more-inclusive, and less judgemental dating service.

Call me a cynic, but I interpreted that to mean, "Hear ye, hear ye, people with criminal backgrounds, bad credit, current spouses and halitosis. If you are one of the leftovers of the dating world, unable to partake of the eHarmony smorsgasbord, come here to meet people with equally low standards."

Take Your Furball and Shove It

Dear Cat Lover,

Please stop giving me death stares when I refuse to pet your mangy kitty. It doesn't mean that I dislike you or that I'm a terrible person. It just means I don't want to be clawed by a miniature tiger.

I prefer dogs. They make good companion animals. Dogs will love you. Cats say, "Oh all right. I'll pretend to like you if you keep feeding me."

If you die alone in your apartment your cat will eat you. Dogs will eat you too, if they're desperate and have howled and mourned you for a couple days. Your cat will think, "That big two-legged moron forgot to put food in my dish. Oh well, that cheek meat looks kinda tender."

Remember this the next time your cat looks at you funny.

Love,
Snarky

A Healthy Sense of Detachment

My mother said that on the first day of preschool, rather than screaming and crying like the other children, I looked around the room calmly and then told her, "You can go now."

Lassi Loves You!

I had a very long, busy week where I was running on about 5 hours of sleep each night in order to get everything accomplished. (I normally like at least 8 hours).

However, my precious few hours of sleep were interrupted by a neighbor in my apartment complex, who decided to have a very enthusiastic cell phone conversation outside my window. He was standing in the carport area and yelling, which was entirely unnecessary, given the echo effect of the location.

He was chattering in a foreign language I did not understand, except for the "Halleluuuu" sprinkled here and there.

As mad as I was, I could not help feeling it was very funny that he concluded the conversation by screaming, "Lassi love you! Lassi looooove you! Lassi loooooove youuuuuu'uuu'uuuuuuuu!" (Yes, he added in extra syllables I did not know existed).

Don't You Know Who I Am?

My friend worked for a non-profit organization associated with the arts. Donors to the program had perks such as special seating arrangements or theatre tours.

One day my friend received a phone call from Angry Woman. Why she called is irrelevant. The reason why this call is memorable was because Angry Woman was upset my friend did not immediately recognize her name and start fawning over her "importance."

"Don't you know who I am? I am a donor!"

Yes, Angry Woman, the staff is incompetent because they didn't memorize the list of hundreds of donors in the files, and quickly connect a random caller to their position on that list.

Nevertheless, while she was talking to her, my friend looked up Angry Woman's donation history, to ensure she was not offending an important patron of the theatre.

Angry Woman donated $20 a year for the past 3 years.

Some people donate to charity out of generosity or guilt or for the tax breaks. I think Angry Woman donated to feel important.

Sorry lady, $20 does not buy you superiority. Your donation is appreciated, but doesn't give you the right to bully anyone with the war cry of "I am a donor!" and expect you will be remembered.