Dialogue Assignment

It’s always fairly quiet in the diner late at night. The whole town was pretty amazed when they got approved to stay open 24/7, which is a pretty big deal in a place this rural. The only customers tend to be hungry truck drivers just passing through town but once in a while a few bored twenty-somethings will wander in. Kristen and Max were bored twenty-somethings who just happened to be passing through.
When they entered the diner, they were pretty grateful for the empty parking lot outside. Except for a few booths tucked against the front wall on either side of the front door, there was a small counter with six stools. As per the signs request, they sat themselves down at the counter directly in front of where the waitress was flipping through a magazine. Though, not really a magazine as much as a tabloid rag, the kind of “literature” one purchases in the super market checkout line.
“Evening”, she said, “I’m Carol, I’ll be serving you this evening.” She barely glanced up from her tabloid as she passed them two menus to look over. “Can I start you off with a drink?”
“Two coffees, and a double order of fries,” Max said as he passed the menus right back to her. Carol placed them back under the counter and went into the back to get a pot of coffee.
“This place is beat,” Kristen whispered while glancing around the converted diner car. “We haven’t seen any cars for about an hour, now, and the first sign of life is in desperate need of a crash cart.”
Max snickered. “It reminds me of the beginning of a horror movie. Or even better, a zombie movie. Next thing you know, legions of the undead are going to be beating down that door, clamoring for a chance to eat Carol’s brain.”
“Our brains, too, Max. There’s no way a zombie could pass up the opportunity to sink whatever teeth he has left into our big, juicy brains” Kristen put her arm around Max’s shoulders. “Well, my brain at least, given my superior intellect I’m sure it’s quite the tasty snack.” Max jokingly pushed her arm off his shoulder and grabbed her in a head lock. Just as he was about to rake his knuckles against her skull, Carol re-emerged from the back with two mugs and a pot of hot coffee-flavored sludge. She placed the mugs and coffee pot down in front of them and fished some creamers out of her apron.
“The fries’ll be out in just a minute,” Carol sighed as she grabbed her tabloid and stuffed it into her apron. “I’ll be in back having a smoke if either of you need anything.” Just as she was about to slip into the back, the front door opened and a truck driver walked in.
“Hey there, Carol. Can you get me my usual?” The man removed his baseball cap and sat down at the opposite end of the counter from Max and Kristen.
Carol gritted her teeth, slapped on the fakest smile and muttered, “Damnit, every time I try to go grab a smoke.” Unclenching her jaw, she winked at him and said, “Sure thing, love. Be back in a jiff.” She slipped into the back again and came right out with another empty coffee mug. She grabbed the pot of coffee from Max and Kristen and poured some for the truck driver. After giving him his cup, she placed the pot in the middle of the counter between him and Max. “Now, you all need to share that pot, I’ll have to make a new one if it’s not enough for you three.” She then hurried back into the kitchen area.
Max shrugged and turned to Kristen, “So where were we? Oh yes, I believe I was about to give you one hell of a noogie. You know, just to tenderize your brain a little before the zombies come to claim it.”
“Try it and meet your doom.” Kristen took a big gulp of her coffee and choked it down as best she could. “You know, there’s something I’ve always wondered about zombies.”
“The answer is ‘no’. The rigor mortis has worn off by then so, no, they are not walking around with a hard-on all the time.” Normally, Kristen appreciates Max’s sense of humor. Except when she’s trying to drink something and she winds up having to spit it out to avoid choking herself.
“Oh ha ha, Max. Jeez. What have I told you about saying ridiculously hilarious shit when I’m drinking, huh? Of course, you probably just want to watch me choke on this sad excuse for coffee just so you can tell everyone that your best friend was killed by diner coffee.” She grabbed some napkins out of the nearby dispenser to soak up the coffee that spilled on the counter, well, the coffee she spit onto the counter.
Max leaned over to grab the pot of coffee to refill her cup when the truck driver snatched it away from him. Max shrugged it off. “Ok, so, what is it that you’ve always wondered about, then?” He offered Kristen the rest of his cup of coffee, and she poured half of it into her mug.
“Well, they say that with human brains, they evolved from back to front. Our hindbrain is the oldest part of our brain but over time our midbrain and forebrain turned on. I wonder if that works for zombies, too?” She could feel the eyes of the truck driver, but she didn’t look up to meet his gaze. She knew he thought they were just plain nuts and was probably trying to figure out why some group home wasn’t out looking for them by now. “I mean, if OUR brains activated systematically like that, over time, then surely zombies must experience the same thing, only at a much slower rate.”
“I’m not quite sure I’m following here. You’re telling me that you think zombies, the formerly dead, experience evolutionary advances similar to those of humans, only over a lengthier period of time?” Max scratched his head, “How can something dead possibly evolve past any state of decomposition?”
“But that’s just it,” Kristen paused to take a sip of coffee, “they aren’t dead anymore. They were dead, but now they’re reanimated. Sure, they may not technically be alive, but there are definitely electrical impulses firing through their brains and bodies. There’s just no possible way that they would have any of the functioning without some kind of life force driving it. So I think it’s at least plausible to suggest that zombie brains would eventually evolve to higher functions.” Max sat there in complete silence for a moment, taking all of this information in and letting his brain process and formulate a response other than a look of slack-jawed surprise.
The door to the kitchen swung open and Carol appeared with two plates of fries and a plate with pancakes, eggs and sausage. She handed the breakfast meal over to the truck driver and then gave the fries to Max and Kristen. As she was about to head into the back, the truck driver cleared his throat and shook the empty coffee pot at her.
“I guess I’ll go make a fresh pot,” she sighed and went back into the kitchen.
Max sat there in complete silence as he put salt and ketchup onto his fries. He sat there, not making a sound, as he slowly ate, methodically chewing. Kristen felt a bit awkward, having to sit there in this silence listening to Max and the truck driver chew their food. She was almost starting to regret even bringing the subject up.
“Listen…” she started, but Max quickly put up a hand to silence her.
“I’m thinking this over.” He stared down at his plate, picking up fries one at a time. Putting them in his mouth. Chewing. Thinking about his response. “OK, I think I got it. Zombies were once people, who died, and are then reanimated at various stages of decay. If a person were dead long enough, then their brain may have decayed to a point where evolutionary improvements are not possible.”
“Well that would make sense. A brain that’s half mush probably wouldn’t be able to evolve beyond the basic, rudimentary skills that all people possess.” Kristen shoveled a forkful of fries into her mouth. She always put so much ketchup and mustard on them that eating them any other way made a huge mess. After swallowing, she said, “But what about fresh brains?”
Max quickly finished chewing the fries in his mouth and washed them down with a gulp of coffee. “Fresh brains, I think, would probably have a much better chance. If the person died only a couple of days ago, then I think it could possibly experience a similar change in functioning that is reminiscent of the way human brains evolved. I don’t agree with your theory on how long it would take, though. I think that zombie brains would activate much more quickly than human brains did.”
“I don’t know why you think that, zombies are slower creatures in every sense, so I think it is far more logical to say their brains would evolve at a much slower rate.”
Max shook his head. He silently ate a few more fries, sighed, and then said “This really is such a wonderful concept, it’s just such a shame that nobody will ever be able to hypothesize and test it.”
The truck driver chuckled. Taking a sip of coffee he turned to Max and Kristen. “Why, could that possibly be because zombies don’t exist?”
“No,” Max said, “It’s because the moment someone sees a zombie, they end up shooting them in the head. There’d never be enough test subjects.”

Defunct GI Club?

Well, it appears that ol' Joshy did have a GI flare-up. They didn't specify what his GI problem is, but that may be just because GI issues aren't sexy as it is, and naming them is just totally un-sexy to the extreme, especially when you're a hot, young thing like he is.

The Star said:

he was "suffering from a flare-up of a gastro-intestinal problem that plagued him while he was starring in the West End of London during the production of Rain Man.
"He is under observation but is resting comfortably," the spokeswoman added.

My offer to form the Defunct GI Club still stands, Josh. Together, we can show people that sexy beasts** have muffed up GI tracts, too!

**Of course, this insinuates that I think of myself as a sexy beast....which I presently don't

Now you guys are REALLY spoiled....fourth post today.

After careful consideration, I decided I am going to totally send an e-mail to the ShamWow people to offer up my services as their new spokesperson. Scratch that. I TOTALLY sent an email to them already. I attached my resume, so this is a for reals thing, along with a picture just so they know who is offering this "once in a lifetime opportunity" to them.

And here's the e-mail I sent:

Are you tired of Spokesmen who go on crazy drinking binges and beat up prostitutes? Are you sick of seeing Billy Mays' face plastered all over every commercial for anything from Life Insurance to Mighty Putty? Folks, I am extending a once in a lifetime offer to you, the makers of the wonderful absorbent cloth that has swept the nation and stolen the hearts of all.

I am stepping to the plate to be the new ShamWow pitcher. I promise to be the most enthusiastic, unabashed spokesperson the world of informercials has ever seen. I am a rare breed. I do not embarrass easily, or sometimes at all, and am always willing to do ridiculous things for my own personal amusement. And luckily, 99% of the things that amuse me amuse other people as well. I'm also willing to film the informercial spots myself and submit them to you electronically. I own video equipment and equipment to upload video onto my laptop. I also have some friends who are in the independent film making community who could help me should I run across an issue I'm not able to overcome. I also solemnly swear to never get into a boxing match with a prostitute.

So I'll let you guys mull it over a bit. If you'd like to know just who is bringing this offer to the table (and subsequently who this offer is referring to), then feel free to check out my blog: dollarstorecondoms.blogspot.com, the attached resume and the picture that I've attached to this email.

My services are only available for a limited time, so act now!

Three Posts in One Day? I'm Spoiling You

I <3 Wife Swap....so I put on Lifetime a moment ago to catch the last 10 minutes. Instead of Wife Swap....I see an EAS screen. It says "The Emergency Alert System has been activated. Please stay tuned for further details." Every other channel that we get on our basement TV is working just fine.

So what gives, Lifetime? What is the Emergency?

Did your entire stock of Golden Girls episodes burst into flames?
Has Markie Post decided to no longer let you endlessly replay all of her Lifetime movies?

Oh, wait, crisis averted, I suppose....Wife Swap just came back on.

Clearly, the emergency was that I wasn't watching. And so they were punishing everyone else by not letting them watch. It just took them a few minutes to realize I had, in fact, tuned in.

And in unrelated news....I have an offer to make to the company who sells those glorious ShamWows. I am willing to be your new infomercial spokesperson. I will be the most enthusiastic goon shilling random products in the history of infomercials. And I solemnly swear to NEVER get into a boxing match with a prostitute. So, you know, call me. But whatever you do, do NOT call Billy Mays. Hasn't that man done enough already?!

No....not Josh Hartnett!

According to Jezebel and TMZ, Josh Hartnett was picked up by an ambulance at 2AM due to excruciating abdominal pains. TMZ updated saying:

We're told Josh was in "excruciating pain" last night, because of gastrointestinal issues. We're told he may have picked up some sort of stomach virus while shooting a movie overseas, and he's had ongoing stomach issues as a result. He's seeing a specialist today**.

Well, it's either that or he popped an ovarian cyst.

I'm hedging my bets on mysterious GI issue.

Josh, I feel for you. We should start a defunct GI club. I'll even let you write the theme song.

**I swear, that being famous has to be the only way to get in to see a specialist on such short notice after an ER visit....

Hypocrisy at its Finest - Shame on you, PETA!

The hypocrisy that oozes forth from PETA is an awful lot like a Pro-Lifer who condemns people for getting medically necessary abortions and then goes off, gets knocked up and proceeds to take care of it by cramming a metal hanger up her vadge. Lather. Rinse. Repeat about 21,000 times.

If PETA weren't so militant about their pro-animal ways, maybe people would be a little less outraged by the fact that, all together, they have managed to kill 21,339 dogs and cats since 1998. Actually, that would still be pretty hypocritical and outrageous. They just need to give up their game because it really is ridiculous. Ingrid Newkirk is basically just trying to out-crazy herself on a daily basis while her little minions are going around, collecting domestic companion animals from people, shelters, etc and slaughtering them yearly.

In 2008 PETA killed 95% of the adoptable pets that wound up in their custody. They kill roughly 5.8 animals a day...but I bet that doesn't come close to the number of animals you guys save every year by brow-beating people into becoming vegetarians or vegans...does it? Maybe the number of animals saved by vegans/vegetarians converted by PETA far exceeds 5.8 a day...or maybe not. Animals will continue to be slaughtered regularly to create food and other products for the general well being of people. Just because you, personally, stop wearing leather and purchasing leather does not mean that the cows are not still getting slaughtered, skinned and tanned before shipping the pelt off to the designers. That just means that there will be that many more leather garments on the clearance rack for frugal and savvy shoppers like myself. And maybe then the retailer won't order as many the next time around. So the designer won't have to make as many garments. But I bet the same number of cows will still be getting slaughtered to produce said leather for the designers. If you think otherwise, feel free to submit valid research-backed data and I'll mull it over.

Back to the needless slaughtering of puppies and kittens. Now, granted, I know that PETA isn't an adoption shelter, nor do they operate an adoption shelter...but wouldn't it make much more sense for them to contact various adoption shelters in their immediate area (as well as in a broader area depending on the volume of animals they take in) and turn the animals over to them? Hmm...let's see...kill 5.8 animals a day or transfer 5.8 animals a day to no-kill shelters...decisions decisions.....

Blatant hypocrisy is not the way to go about being taken seriously. And the Center for Consumer Freedom's Research Director, David Martosko, thinks so, too, according to this article

Martosko added: “Since killing pets is A-OK with PETA, why should anyone listen to their demands about eating meat, using lab rats for medical research, or taking children to the circus?”

While I have never appreciated PETA's militant approach to, well, anything, I did somewhat appreciate them when I was just a fledgling of a vegetarian. OK I wasn't technically a vegetarian as I still ate fish and poultry. BUT I credited PETA with being the information source to open my eyes to the disgusting and inhumane treatment of animals on factory farms. And while I'm sure the dogs, cats, puppies and kittens that PETA kills every day are living their last few moments in the most luxurious conditions....they are NO BETTER than any of those factory farms. Actually, I consider them to be worse than the factory farms regardless of the conditions the animals are kept in before PETA euthanizes them. At least Factory Farms kill their animals for a reason!

I expect that any uber PETA fanatic that somehow manages to stumble across this post is probably saying to themselves (and not their friends because uber PETA fanatics have no friends) "but PETA IS killing them for a reason! They are humanely euthanizing them because it is just WRONG for dogs and cats to be domesticated and treated like 'pets'. They are our furbabies!"

OK. First off, humanely euthanizing dogs and cats that are otherwise completely healthy and adoptable would be akin to an orphanage humanely euthanizing the children in their care. The uber PETA fanatics out there are, in my best guess, the same people who protest and avoid kill-shelters like the plague. They won't support kill-shelters (which, really, when you think about it, if kill-shelters had more financial support they probably wouldn't HAVE to kill their rescues since they'd be able to afford to keep more animals as they'd be able to expand their spaces...and that's why they are kill-shelters...because they cannot afford to keep animals in their care for longer than a certain amount of time because of time/space/money constraints....but, you know...just a thought ^_^), but their beloved PETA is the biggest kill-shelter in the country. Actually, I think it's safe to call PETA a slaughterhouse instead of a kill-shelter because shelter denotes the possibility that the animals in question have the potential to be adopted by a loving, caring home. The uber PETA fanatics will also probably shout and scream about how kill-shelters could merely transfer their animals to another facility that has a no-kill policy in place instead of euthanizing the animals.

Oh what a tangled web you have woven, uber PETA fanatics, because your solutions for kill-shelters helping animals without euthanizing them are the same solutions that PETA should use to handle the animals they take in before laying them to waste.

Plain and simple...PETA needs to shut the fuck up about vegetarianism and veganism and fade away into oblivion.

I think it's about high time we lock Ingrid's crazy ass up, dissolve PETA, and just let people decide for themselves whether they want to eat meat, or not, without cramming any propaganda down their throats. While it helps to have information and resources that will let you know just what happens on the inside of slaughterhouses and factory farms, I think we could all do without PETA's rampant hypocrisy and militant ways.

Humor In The Eyes of Children

My youngest niece, Natalie, thinks I'm funny. I take great joy in hearing her tell me so and she tends to tell me at least once every time she sees me. Of course, part of the joy is from my niece finding me amusing and the other part is because she talks in that broken, mushy 2 year old way. We aren't quite sure what the ramifications of her finding me funny are, though, especially since my sense of humor is so refined that it usually escapes most people. And by refined I mean bizarre, strange, eccentric, odd, you get the idea. But I think we're starting to discover that her sense of humor is shaping up to be quite like mine, or maybe even worse than mine.

You see, the first time that she told me I was funny, I was making strange noises at her. She's 2 and still has a hard time pronouncing most words. Usually, she'll end up telling me something or asking for something and I end up having to ask her to repeat herself. The insanity in that is that the more she says it, the less I understand what she is trying to tell me. And yet I keep asking her to repeat herself, fully knowing I will be no more enlightened than I was the first time she said it. I usually end up more confused. So after asking her over and over again what it is she was trying to say, I finally just mimicked what she was saying the way it sounded to me. She laughed and said "You funny, Fafa" (I'm not sure what Fafa means...but it's what the kids call me so don't ask as I don't have the answer).

It's never a guarantee as to what she'll tell me is funny. I could mimic her speech three times in a row, and she'll probably only tell me it's funny once or twice. But I guess that's a good thing as it means her sense of humor is diverse. But the diversity of it is a little odd, because some of the other things she has found funny are just, well, off. I'm sure to a 2 year old they probably are, though.

For instance, this past Sunday I went up to my sister's house so that we could take my nieces to the park. At one point, while hanging around, I had grabbed Natalie and was trying to get her to sit on the couch with me. Instead, she decided her best course of action would be to jam her little fists into my neck and, thusly, choke me. As I'm laying there, trying to tell her that she is choking me, and not having much success since she's a strong little booger and my windpipe was getting compressed, I barely manage to squeak out a "can't...breathe...choking me!" I'm not sure if it was the way I said it or the fact that my face turned bright red as I was struggling (yes, I was struggling against a 2 year old....and lost....jeez), but she immediately released her fists and giggled "You funny, Fafa!" I'm so glad that my asphyxiation could delight her.

Then, yesterday, I had to make a stop off at the Hospital in Morristown and I was at my mom's house afterwards. The girls were there (as my sister drove me from my mom's to the hospital), and they were crawling all over my mom. I was sitting across the living room from them and, not being actively engaged in the grown-up conversation, I started playing with the floaters in my eyes.

OK a bit of explanation is needed. Tuesday night, I learned from my lab partner what the floaters are (according to a doctor of his anyways). His doc told him they are bits of pigmentation that flake off on the inside and get suspended in the fluid. I asked him some more questions about them during our break, mainly because there is one in my left eye which is ever present, but that I also have a bunch of them in both eyes that only show up once in a while. He told me that, when I contract my eye muscles, it stirs things up and I'll be more likely to push some of the other floaters into my line of vision. Mind you, this is all just what my lab partner told me and has been the only explanation for those little floating fuckers that I have ever gotten.

So, as I was sitting in my mom's living room yesterday, I was not engaged in conversation and decided to give it a little bit of a test. I focused my eyes on something very close (thusly engaging and contracting the muscles in my eyes). I saw bunches of those floating fuckers. So then I relaxed my eye muscles and looked at a wall across the room from me and watched some of them float around best as I could. Unfortunately, this involves darting your eyes around all over the place. Some people would term this behavior as 'crazy'...hm. I tend to try to look directly at my eye floaters whenever I'm bored and not actively engaged in something, no wonder most people won't talk to me. I look fucking crazy.

So as I'm sitting there, doing that, Natalie starts giggling and says "Fafa funny!" My mom assumed that I was making faces at her, until I explained what I was doing.

Now my mom thinks we're BOTH crazy.

I've Got A Solution

So, everyone is pretty pissed off at AIG and all the ways they have decided to use their bailout money. Some people are demanding they return the money and others are demanding that they get taxed 90% on the money.

Well I just thought of the perfect solution to the problem.

AIG can keep the money, and the bonuses can remain with those they were awarded to, if AIG gives EVERYONE* in America a reasonable** car insurance policy. For free.




*"Everyone in America" means all citizens who currently have a legal driving status.
*Reasonable means that AIG can't be stingy and hand out policies with shitty coverage and it also means that we can't be greedy bitches about the policies either. A nice happy median will suffice.

So Not Fair

I'm unemployed, a full time college student, and do not have health insurance.

Given all three of those factors, I am not in a greatest position to afford medical bills right now.

So my mom wanted me to check out eligibility requirements for Medicaid in NJ.

I don't qualify. Simply because I'm not pregnant, I don't have a child with a disability and I'm not legally responsible for a child under the age of 19. How fucking unfair is that?!

Just because I'm not a breeder, I don't qualify for government assisted health insurance.....

Fantesticle....

How Hard Should It Be To Get a Doctor?

I don't have what you would call a regular General Practitioner. I've seen many different GPs over the past few years. I used to see one doctor fairly regularly, but he's retired now. I basically just end up going to whatever doctor my family uses. So, of course, when they asked me in the ER who my GP was, I didn't give them a name at first cause, as I said, I don't technically have one. But my mom insisted that I go see their GP, Dr. Morandi, for my follow up.

So we called his office yesterday in the hopes of making an appointment for today and, wouldn't you know it, he's on vacation until Thursday. But, like all good doctors, he has an answering service that gives the name and number of a covering doctor to the patients if they desperately need to be seen.

Unfortunately for me, his answering service of choice is run by a bunch of asshats.

We got a number for a Dr. Catania who works with my Cardiologist, Dr. Shioleno. Trusting the answering service, I called and left a message explaining the situation. They called me back this morning and they were confused as all hell. Why would I be 'referred' to a cardiology group when I just need to see a General Practitioner?

Naturally, since the phone call came after I had only been awake for 10 minutes, I felt like an idiot and got really upset and called my sister. She told me to call the answering service back and AGAIN they tried to give me Dr. Catania's number. I explained to them that Dr. Catania is a cardiologist, and that they had no idea why I was referred to them in the first place, so they put me back on hold and gave me a phone number for a Dr. Tanveer Janjua. OK, I thought. This is good.

Not knowing where Dr. Janjua's office was located, I quickly googled the phone number to find out and realized that, whoops, yet again the raging retards at the answering service gave me another useless number. Thankfully, I hadn't called the office yet because I would not enjoy being embarrassed a SECOND time today....and why would I have been, you ask? Well, that's because Dr. Janjua is a FUCKING PLASTIC SURGEON. Oh wait, I'm sorry he's a fucking FACIAL plastic surgeon......who does botox.....

WTF do I need a plastic surgeon for?! I am having gastro problems and ovarian issues. I don't need fucking botox, I don't need a fucking face lift. I need a general practitioner to check me out and send me off to someone who can help me.

Luckily for me, Dr. Shioleno is a stand up kind of guy, because his office called me back and referred me to Dr. Dalena, an excellent gastroenterologist located in Cedar Knolls.

So while I guess it was good that the answering service gave me the phone number for Shioleno's office in the long run, I probably would have had an easier time this morning if I had just played eenie, meenie, miney, moe in the yellow pages....