Oh, hail no, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers
Select group
Bacardi has a new product called “Island Breeze” that claims it has half the calories of regular spirits. This is the perfect gift for all of those alcoholics who are carefully watching their weight.
Got Pitcher?
Actress Alyssa Milano has dated Yankees pitcher Carl Pavano and A’s pitcher Barry Zito and now is dating Dodgers ace Brad Penny. I’m not sure if it was going to work out between Alyssa Milano and Brad Penny. Alyssa is lactose intolerant.
Don’t forget that part
National scholastic aptitude test scores indicate that scores are slightly up. When told of the improvement of the reading, writing and math scores, President Bush asked; “Reading, writing and math are all fine but what about ‘rithmetic?"
Whew hew
Martha Stewart has removed her electronic ankle bracelet. Three words: Look out Dollywood.
You’d think
President Bush is being accused of not respond fast enough to the areas hit by hurricane Katrina. You’d think Bush would have responded faster, Louisiana has a lot of oil.
Tough spot
Jesse Jackson criticized President’s Bush leadership in New Orleans; you have to feel for Jesse Jackson in the Katrina crisis: on the one hand Jesse wants to get involved, yet on the other hand, there isn’t a specific corporation Jesse can threaten with racism for shake-down money.
Since you asked:
(No idea what made me think of this)
When I worked for a Wall Street bond brokerage firm, the hysterical crowd reactions were worthy of Mel Brooks.
Most of the bond brokers were twenty-something to middle-aged rowdy male ex-jock New Yorkers, a rough crowd. One guy we worked with, however, named Dennis - or Den Denny Den Den, as we called him- was a bespeckled, kind, thoughtful, gentle, straight-laced and just all around really good man. In other words, he was totally out of place.
Bless Den Denny Den Den’s big heart, he tried like hell. One day before the Christmas Holiday, he turned to the entire trading floor and wished everybody a heart-felt Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. The spontaneous cavalcade of obscenities that rained down on poor D.D.D.D. would make the drunkest Philadelphia sports fans blush.
Before every Christmas we would break out our office Christmas tree. It was the cheesiest, bent, pathetic plastic tree ever made. When we did, the head of the mortgage bond desk, Johnny – think Joe Pesci – would earnestly implore us to sing the Christmas Carol “O Christmas Tree” to mark the occasion. Like everybody else, we all knew the opening words “Oh Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree…” then, because nobody in the world knows the rest of that song, it would invariably dissolve into a chorus of “Na na nah naaah na nah naaaaaaah.” Until we got to the “O-Christmas Tree” part again.
Well, this did not suit the avid Church-going Den Denny Den Den at all. One Christmas season he went to the unprecedented trouble and expense of printing out and copying the lyrics to “O Christmas Tree.”
So, on the big day when we broke out that broke-ass sorry Christmas tree, with obvious pride and excitement, Den Denny Den Den passed out the “Oh Christmas Tree” lyric sheets to everyone. Finally, and at long last, we could sing all the words the way they were meant to be sung.
Excited, we all began as loudly and robustly as we ever had.
“O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree . . .” and as if on cue, every broker, with the correct words in hand, all sang at once;
“Na na nah naaah na nah naaaaaah.”
Poor Den Denny Den Den looked like his own dog had just taken a whiz on his shoe.
Lex’s iPod update
Found the slightest chink in the armor of the vaunted iPod and iTunes.
The other day, waiting for my grill to warm up before grilling tri-tip at sunset, fortified by a few glasses of Cabernet, I found a Seventies playlist on iTunes. Maybe it was the warm golden light from the glorious California sunset, or the fatigue from a particularly arduous work out earlier, or, more likely, the buzz from the wine, but I found this 70’s list irresistible and started buying songs from it like crazy. What the hell? It’s only 99 cents a song.
A few days later, in the harsh light of cold sobriety, I got the iTunes receipt. There I saw a horror no man should see. Not only had I listened to, but I had actually purchased the following songs:
Kershaw Sammy’s “Chevy Van,” Gilbert O’Sullivan’s “The Night Chicago Died” Looking Glass’s “Brandy” and, to my utter horror, Terry Jacks “Seasons in the Sun” Hell, I broke up with Betsy Fox (no relation to Debbie Fox) because she liked that song.
The moral? Friends don’t let friends iTunes drunk.
Select group
Bacardi has a new product called “Island Breeze” that claims it has half the calories of regular spirits. This is the perfect gift for all of those alcoholics who are carefully watching their weight.
Got Pitcher?
Actress Alyssa Milano has dated Yankees pitcher Carl Pavano and A’s pitcher Barry Zito and now is dating Dodgers ace Brad Penny. I’m not sure if it was going to work out between Alyssa Milano and Brad Penny. Alyssa is lactose intolerant.
Don’t forget that part
National scholastic aptitude test scores indicate that scores are slightly up. When told of the improvement of the reading, writing and math scores, President Bush asked; “Reading, writing and math are all fine but what about ‘rithmetic?"
Whew hew
Martha Stewart has removed her electronic ankle bracelet. Three words: Look out Dollywood.
You’d think
President Bush is being accused of not respond fast enough to the areas hit by hurricane Katrina. You’d think Bush would have responded faster, Louisiana has a lot of oil.
Tough spot
Jesse Jackson criticized President’s Bush leadership in New Orleans; you have to feel for Jesse Jackson in the Katrina crisis: on the one hand Jesse wants to get involved, yet on the other hand, there isn’t a specific corporation Jesse can threaten with racism for shake-down money.
Since you asked:
(No idea what made me think of this)
When I worked for a Wall Street bond brokerage firm, the hysterical crowd reactions were worthy of Mel Brooks.
Most of the bond brokers were twenty-something to middle-aged rowdy male ex-jock New Yorkers, a rough crowd. One guy we worked with, however, named Dennis - or Den Denny Den Den, as we called him- was a bespeckled, kind, thoughtful, gentle, straight-laced and just all around really good man. In other words, he was totally out of place.
Bless Den Denny Den Den’s big heart, he tried like hell. One day before the Christmas Holiday, he turned to the entire trading floor and wished everybody a heart-felt Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. The spontaneous cavalcade of obscenities that rained down on poor D.D.D.D. would make the drunkest Philadelphia sports fans blush.
Before every Christmas we would break out our office Christmas tree. It was the cheesiest, bent, pathetic plastic tree ever made. When we did, the head of the mortgage bond desk, Johnny – think Joe Pesci – would earnestly implore us to sing the Christmas Carol “O Christmas Tree” to mark the occasion. Like everybody else, we all knew the opening words “Oh Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree…” then, because nobody in the world knows the rest of that song, it would invariably dissolve into a chorus of “Na na nah naaah na nah naaaaaaah.” Until we got to the “O-Christmas Tree” part again.
Well, this did not suit the avid Church-going Den Denny Den Den at all. One Christmas season he went to the unprecedented trouble and expense of printing out and copying the lyrics to “O Christmas Tree.”
So, on the big day when we broke out that broke-ass sorry Christmas tree, with obvious pride and excitement, Den Denny Den Den passed out the “Oh Christmas Tree” lyric sheets to everyone. Finally, and at long last, we could sing all the words the way they were meant to be sung.
Excited, we all began as loudly and robustly as we ever had.
“O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree . . .” and as if on cue, every broker, with the correct words in hand, all sang at once;
“Na na nah naaah na nah naaaaaah.”
Poor Den Denny Den Den looked like his own dog had just taken a whiz on his shoe.
Lex’s iPod update
Found the slightest chink in the armor of the vaunted iPod and iTunes.
The other day, waiting for my grill to warm up before grilling tri-tip at sunset, fortified by a few glasses of Cabernet, I found a Seventies playlist on iTunes. Maybe it was the warm golden light from the glorious California sunset, or the fatigue from a particularly arduous work out earlier, or, more likely, the buzz from the wine, but I found this 70’s list irresistible and started buying songs from it like crazy. What the hell? It’s only 99 cents a song.
A few days later, in the harsh light of cold sobriety, I got the iTunes receipt. There I saw a horror no man should see. Not only had I listened to, but I had actually purchased the following songs:
Kershaw Sammy’s “Chevy Van,” Gilbert O’Sullivan’s “The Night Chicago Died” Looking Glass’s “Brandy” and, to my utter horror, Terry Jacks “Seasons in the Sun” Hell, I broke up with Betsy Fox (no relation to Debbie Fox) because she liked that song.
The moral? Friends don’t let friends iTunes drunk.
posted by Alex at
3:39 PM
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