New Rule: Stop giving me that pop-up ad for Classmates.com! There's a reason you don't talk to people for 25 years. Because you don't particularly like them! Besides, I already know what the captain of the football team is doing these days: mowing my lawn.
New Rule: Don't eat anything that's served to you out a window unless you're a seagull. People are acting all shocked that a human finger was found in a bowl of Wendy's chili. Hey, it cost less than a dollar. What did you expect it to contain? Trout?
New Rule: Stop saying that teenage boys who have sex with their hot, blonde teachers are permanently damaged. I have a better description for these kids: lucky bastards.
New Rule: If you need to shave and you still collect baseball cards, you're gay. If you're a kid, the cards are keepsakes of your idols. If you're a grown man, they're pictures of men.
New Rule: Ladies, leave your eyebrows alone. Here's how much men care about your eyebrows: do you have two of them? Okay, we're done.
New Rule: There's no such thing as flavored water. There's a whole aisle of this crap at the supermarket; water, but without that watery taste. Sorry, but flavored water is called a soft drink. You want flavored water? Pour some scotch over ice and let it melt. That's your flavored water.
New Rule: Stop f***ing with old people. Target is introducing a redesigned pill bottle that's square, with a bigger label. And the top is now the bottom. And by the time grandpa figures out how to open it, his ass will be in the morgue. Congratulations, Target, you just solved the Social Security crisis.
New Rule: The more complicated the Starbucks order, the bigger the asshole. If you walk into a Starbucks and order a "decaf grande half-soy, half-low fat, iced vanilla, double-shot, gingerbread cappuccino, extra dry, light ice, with one Sweet-n'-Low and one NutraSweet," ooh, you're a huge asshole.
New Rule: I'm not the cashier! By the time I look up from sliding my card, entering my PIN number, pressing "Enter," verifying the amount, deciding, no, I don't want cash back, and pressing "Enter" again, the kid who is supposed to be ringing me up is standing there eating my Almond Joy.
New Rule: Just because your tattoo has Chinese characters in it doesn't make you spiritual. It's right above the crack of your ass. And it translates to "beef with broccoli." The last time you did anything spiritual, you were praying to God you weren't pregnant. You're not spiritual. You're just high.
New Rule: Competitive eating isn't a sport. It's one of the seven deadly sins. ESPN recently televised the US Open of Competitive Eating, because watching those athletes at the poker table was just too damned exciting. What's next, competitive farting? Oh wait. They're already doing that. It's called "The Howard Stern Show."
New Rule: I don't need a bigger mega M&M. If I'm extra hungry for M&Ms, I'll go nuts and eat two.
New Rule: If you're going to insist on making movies based on crappy, old television shows, then you have to give everyone in the Cineplex a remote so we can see what's playing on the other screens. Let's remember the reason something was a television show in the first place is that the idea wasn't good enough to be a movie. [My personal favorite!]
New Rule: No more gift registries. You know, it used to be just for weddings. Now it's for babies and new homes and graduations from rehab. Picking out the stuff you want and having other people buy it for you isn't gift giving, it's the white people version of looting.New Rule: This one is long overdue: No more bathroom attendants! After I zip up, some guy is offering me a towel and a mint like I just had sex with George Michael. I can't even tell if he's supposed to be there, or just some freak with a fetish. I don't want to be on your webcam, dude. I just want to wash my hands.
New Rule: When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to know in months. "27 Months." "He's two," will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place.
Also from the Sweetheart, one of the most interesting search engines you'll find on the net -- meet Ms. Dewey!
Four insurance companies are in competition. One comes up with the slogan,
"Coverage from the cradle to the grave."
The second one tries to improve on that with, "Coverage from the womb to the tomb."
Not to be outdone, the third one comes up with, "From the sperm to the worm."
The fourth insurance company really thought hard and almost gave up the race, but finally came up with,"From the erection to the resurrection."
Again from Elizabeth, this story (Brixton, UK) that ought to have Eric and Yabu's hair standing on end:
NATURE lovers fear that squirrels could become hooked on crack cocaine plundered from addicts' hidden stashes.
The furry animals are thought to be behind a new drugs turf war in Brixton - stealing rocks of crack hidden in front gardens.
Tough police action to rid the town centre of dealers and addicts has seen crackheads abandon their usual drug stash hideouts.
But the blitz has displaced some dealing into nearby residential streets.
Drug addicts are known to be hiding small stashes of crack rocks in people's front lawns late at night.
Squirrels have been spotted in the same front gardens, seemingly hunting out the buried narcotics.
The discovery has led some residents to speculate that the squirrels are already in the grips of addiction. One resident, who asked for his name to be withheld, told the South London Press.
"I was chatting with my neighbor who told me that crack users and dealers sometimes use my front garden to hide bits of their stash.
"An hour earlier I'd seen a squirrel wandering round the garden, digging in the flowerbeds.
"It looked like it knew what it was looking for.
"It was ill-looking and its eyes looked bloodshot but it kept on desperately digging.
"It was almost as if it was trying to find hidden crack rocks."
Crack squirrels are a recognised phenomena in the
They are known to live in parks frequented by addicts in
The squirrels have attacked park visitors in their frenzied search for their next fix.
An RSPCA spokesman said he was unaware of the squirrels taking crack in Brixton.
For Halloween, Nancy V. sends this Hang Man Game.