Monday, March 07, 2005

Four A.M. Bore and Seven Beers Ago

So I found myself awake at 3:30 am last night, after having fallen asleep at 9:30 p.m. thanks to some unfinished hungover bizness to attend to. So, I flip on the tv and did you know that Sunday late night/Monday early morning there is nothing on? Like, not a single thing!

So I'm flipping through my 1000 plus channels of programming (which runs my apartment $160 a month, worth every penny), I discover a tiny nugget of brilliance, called A&E On Demand. Now, being the Cable Dominatrix that I am, there's nothing I like better than a little Cable on Demand. "What was that, Six Feet Under? You best pause and then rewind bitch! Me and my taser remote demand you. Now, lick my boot, Bill Maher. Not the calf! The bottom of my boot, you left-leaning scumass shit-shmearing hound!" (p.s. I am so obviously kidding about watching Bill Maher.)

Where was I? Ahh yes, A&E On Demand. So I turn to the station, and they actually have a very limited choice of stuff to demand. For example, you can only choose from 4 A&E Biographies, leaving me with very few options.

But here's where the story gets barely more interesting, and where I was caught off guard. Four biographies. But one of them seemed amiss amongst the group. Rather than tell you, why don't we just make this a little visual mind bender, ok? You tell me which one doesn't belong:

Now, off the bat you might say Lincoln. Lincoln's the only white man amongst three minorities. But don't forget that Lincoln is a huge fag, thus making him, in fact, a minority (with long, sinewy thighs, apparently.)

Mandela... maybe the handsomest of the four, but not enough so to be separate. Malcolm X is the only one who wears glasses, which if this was a game of Guess Who, you could totally flip all your little pieces down, but this is a digital game, and our guy isn't wearing glasses, so no dice.

Which leaves us with Cheech Marin of Cheech and Chong, a man famous for his well-tended moustache, smoking the ganja, not to mention write, direct and star in one of the most underrated comedies of the century, Born in East LA. Indeed, this triple threat, or "amenaza triple", is deserved of an hour long special delving deep into the question of "What were you smoking when you made that?" An amazing man, Lincoln and Malcolm X are no doubt rolling in their graves, while Nelson Mandela shakes his head in an undoubtedly dignified manner.

Thanks, A&E. Can't wait for next month when I can watch bio's about Indira Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Golda Meir, and Wendy the Snapple Lady in one sitting.

Also, I feel it my duty to inform you that I witnessed possibly the FUNNIEST thing I have ever seen, something that simply took my breath away with its genius.

Walking down Wall Street today, a very effeminate black man (def. wearing foundation and eye liner), dressed in leather pants, a leather jacket and a leather cap, not unlike this man:

He was a joy to behold, marvelous to look at, not just for his head-to-toe hide ensemble, but also for how out of place he looked amongst the throngs of douchebags who all make more money than I do.

But the best part? He was walking a dog. Yes, in one hand he held a leash, while he strutted, and on the other end of that leash was this:

A chihuahua, wearing a bonnet and a dress. Now, admittedly, the outfit was pink, and this little blue number was the closest I could come to it. But, standing on Wall Street with a friend, the two of us broke down into hysterical, unadulterated laughter. (And thank god I have a witness, because I surely would've otherwise blamed my vision on the undoubtedly hallucinogenic effects of my McDonald's yogurt parfait.) Mister, whoever you are, you brought an extra ray of sunshine to this city on an otherwise beautiful day. I thank you.


While searching for a man in a leather suit, I came across this pic of a dog I can only describe as being a "hardcore top":

I don't even wanna know what kind of Google Searchers are gonna come to this site now that "hardcore top" is in quotes. Dear god, now I've said it twice.

Moving on, pantyhose people. You know: People made from pantyhose. OK, fine here's an example of the "elders":

That is scary. My feet literally look exactly like that.

Here's their pattern for a clown, and a different, more nightare-inducing hobo clown, which while devastatingly funny, is just a crotch too creepy to post here on this otherwise fine, tasteful digital diary of madness. Fiiiiine, just a peek.

Hobo clown or Larry Appleton from Perfect Strangers? You decide.

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