Comic Genesis Forums

YOU FIEND!!

::fanservice senses tingling!::

mcDuffies wrote:Congrats, Laura, you succesfully derailed your own thread.

If it's my thread, I'm not derailing it. I am simply altering the deal.

Dutch! wrote:Enjoy the snow.

I will, thanks. I love playing in the snow. Especially sledding at Punderson State Park. ... and then comes the hot cocoa ...

Plus I have fond memories of my dad making snow sculptures when I was a kid ... One year, he carved the Pieta by Michelangelo out of snow; he ended up getting into the newspaper for that.

Funny how people make a big deal about "Dentist can also carve snow" or "Steel worker is also wonderful basketweaver" ... but no one cares if "Local artist is also rather skilled at accounting."

--Sij

Genesis_13 wrote:

Santa Claus Bot? Ha, I always knew he was a fake.

Santa Bot?

I knew this day would come....say hello to your queen, Dopple-Popple-ous...DOPPLEGANGER!!

... christmas carols depress me.
:'d Or maybe it's the lack of sun, and the sun always being in lacking amounts when christmas carols start playing. Or maybe Christmas really is very depressing, regardless of whether one has someone to spend chirstmas or not, and regardless of whether Buddah's birthday is celebrated in such enourmous scales or not, and regardless of how one percieves christmas, even though it is difficult to avoid rambling happy grandmothers talking about how it's the greatest time of the year as if it should be everyone's favorite month, when some people really umm... don't care that much.

So uh, that was a really long sentance.

Have you tried flying south for the winter? I hear it does wonders for SAD.

I already know what my presents are going to be... and not because I peaked, either (i'm a good girl, i am).

Anyways, I will be at my dear auntie's house on christmas, and will probably fall asleep on her couch like I do every year.

Ok, this is a little late, but if you want a holiday laugh, I'll post it (it's a Thanksgiving-themed collumn, so appologies for it being late and to everyone who's not in America).

"For those of you who are coming to my place for Thanksgiving dinner -- Martha Stewart ain't gonna be there! I'm telling you in advance, so don't act surprised. Since Ms. Stewart won't be coming, I've made a few small changes: Our sidewalk will not be lined with homemade, paper bag luminaries. After a trial run, it was decided that no matter how cleverly done, rows of flaming lunch sacks do not have the desired welcoming effect.

Once inside, our guests will note that the entry hall is not decorated with the swags of Indian corn and fall foliage I had planned to make. Instead, I've gotten the kids involved in the decorating by having them track in colorful autumn leaves from the front yard. The mud was their idea.

The dining table will not be covered with expensive linens, fancy china, or crystal goblets. If possible, we will use dishes that match and everyone will get a fork. Since this IS Thanksgiving, we will refrain from using the plastic Peter Rabbit plate and the Santa napkins from last Christmas. Our centerpiece will not be the tower of fresh fruit and flowers that I promised. Instead we will be displaying a hedgehog-like decoration hand-crafted from the finest construction paper. The artist assures me it is a turkey.

We will be dining fashionably late. The children will entertain you while you wait. I'm sure they will be happy to share every choice comment I have made regarding Thanksgiving, pilgrims and the turkey hot line. Please remember that most of these comments were made at 5:00 a.m. upon discovering that the turkey was still hard enough to cut diamonds.

As accompaniment to the children's recital, I will play a recording of tribal drumming. If the children should mention that I don't own a recording of tribal drumming, or that tribal drumming sounds suspiciously like a frozen Turkey in a clothes dryer, ignore them. They are lying.

We toyed with the idea of ringing a dainty silver bell to announce the start of our feast. In the end, we chose to keep our traditional method. We've also decided against a formal seating arrangement. When the smoke alarm sounds, please gather around the table and sit where you like.

In the spirit of harmony, we will ask the children to sit at a separate table. In a separate room. Next door.

Now, I know you have all seen pictures of one person carving a turkey in front of a crowd of appreciative onlookers. This will not be happening at our dinner. For safety reasons, the turkey will be carved in a private ceremony. I stress "private" meaning: Do not, under any circumstances, enter the kitchen to laugh at me. Do not send small, unsuspecting children to check on my progress. I have an electric knife. The turkey is unarmed. It stands to reason that I will eventually win. When I do, we will eat.

I would like to take this opportunity to remind my young diners that "passing the rolls" is not a football play. Nor is it a request to bean your sister in the head with warm tasty bread.

Oh, and one reminder for the adults: For the duration of the meal, and especially while in the presence of young diners, we will refer to the giblet gravy by its lesser-known name: Cheese Sauce. If a young diner questions you regarding the origins or type of Cheese Sauce, plead ignorance. Cheese Sauce stains.

Before I forget, there is one last change. Instead of offering a choice between 12 different scrumptious desserts, we will be serving the traditional pumpkin pie, garnished with whipped cream and small fingerprints. You will still have a choice; take it or leave it.

Martha Stewart will not be dining with us this year. She probably won't come next year either. I am thankful.

NOTE: This work is copyrighted to Today's Woman (A Louisville, KY publication), and written by Barbara A. Tyler. (hence, if you find it humorous and want to pass it on, please make sure you give the Author her due!)"

BOMC wrote:I already know what my presents are going to be... and not because I peaked, either (i'm a good girl, i am).

Wooo, pics?

Look! Look! A Newbie posted something funny!

OMGROTFLMAO!!!11!!!!111!!!

And BOMC, you sound like Eliza Doolittle. Now, you just have to say it with an accent... although I don't know how you'll accomplish that on a forum...

<eliza doolittle> Cheer up, Captain, and buy a flower off a poor girl. </eliza doolittle>

<Professor Higgins voice> A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere--no right to live. Remember that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespeare and Milton and The Bible; and don't sit there crooning like a bilious pigeon.</Professor Higgins voice.>
Of course, Shaw didn't know what he was talking about. The language of the Bible is Hebrew and Aramaic, not English. (Unless he only meant the King James Bible...)
BTW, I had a phonetics teacher in college who could do the Professor Higgins trick. She had everyone in class read a paragraph one by one, and could tell us what city and state we were born in. She got all of it right.---Al

She'd get confused by me. People keep claiming I'm British, even though I was born and grew up somewhere else entirely.

--Sij

**crushes all musicals except for Grease**

Luprand wrote:She'd get confused by me. People keep claiming I'm British, even though I was born and grew up somewhere else entirely.

--Sij

That's what excessive consumption of tea does to a man.

But I don't drink tea ...

--Sij

Luprand wrote:But I don't drink tea ...

--Sij

That's just what they want you to believe.

Dutch! wrote:I'll be spending Christmas in shorts and thongs eating cold seafood and drinking chilled beer while sitting outside on the verandah in fold out chairs wearing paper hats and watching the sun go down well into the evening.

Enjoy the snow.

*shakes fist*
I hate snow. It EVERYWHERE!
I don't care if it's pretty. I'm so cold!

TheLoserHero wrote:**crushes all musicals except for Grease**

haHA! But Pygmalion lives on!