I wrote a hit play

a favor...I saw mr. deeds, the latest adam sandler installment. here we find happy in the role of a bard of greeting cards from mandrake falls, nh, who inherits 40 billion from his media mogul great uncle. in hopes of scooping everyone in town, tabloid reporter babe something played by winona ryder, assumes the identity of a small town girl 'pam dawson'. she totally deduces deeds, and he writes her a card to proffess his love to her. I remember this part:

[something something]
acting crazy, not myself
I'm dancing around like a keebler elf

I need the rest of it, so please save me a another trip to the theater and if you are going to catch this flick write it down or something. leave it in my comments section bellow.


gracias,
emilio

Posted by Stan at 6/30/2002 | Permalink

libations + one bored dude + too much time on his hands = mayhem

so its late, and I'm still reeling from the endorphin and alcoholic high started by the aforementioned props dealt to me by the mighty oxfordite. I ran out of stuff to drink, and frankly, I was too lazy to make another batch of mexmarts (trudy's mexican martinis, as I affectionately call them). so I'm looking around the pantry for shit to eat, and I found an untouched pack of oreos. lightbulb comes on, and I think to myself "I wonder just how much of that white goo is inside one of these puppies?". which brings us to my findings:

in the united states, people eat oreos by cracking open the two halves and scraping the white filling off with their bottom incisors. often, we are left with with a garbage can full of black cookie disks. personally, I prefer the black flaps over the white sugar paste. anywho, it seems a shame to toss all these cookie shells. I wonder why the nabisco company doesn't just sell a tube of white goo? nah, that would just be too easy.

well on thrusday night, I decided to find out. a 20 oz package retails for about $5 (I had to call the grocery store for a price check). they contain 51 cookies, so they are worth about a dime each. truman and I set about to carefully open up to extract the precious insides. many foods must undergo a similar separation process before they are edible: shrimp must be deturded, pistachios must be shelled, peaches must be shaven and fugu must have the poisonous glands removed. most modern families buy a fancy machine to twist them apart, but I enjoy nothing better than sitting around the fireplace with old friends, twisting oreos and singing old radio jingles. I kept track of the white filling in a measuring cup. next, I scrapped all the cookies clean (courtesy of truman) and I stacked them up.

in conclusion, there were 17 inches of black cookies, and almost a cup of cream filling. not knowing what do to with the waste and the sugar lard I decided to dump it in the bayou and let the raccoons have at it. I hope they don't get the hershey squirts.


you tha monster!
me

Posted by Stan at 6/28/2002 | Permalink

yard work...so why does it have to rain when I finally motivate myself to do outside work? maybe Jebus (sorry, the appelate court of arizona says that its unconstitutional to use the word "God") is trying to send me a message. I read you loud and clear big guy, I shouldn't stray from the path of becoming the laziest man west of the mighty mississippi. the deluge sidetracked my plans, and I took the opportunity to run to the hardware store to buy much needed supplies.

so, I am sitting at a stoplight on my way back home, I noticed a nice caddy pulling up next to me. the driver, an older gent in a nice brioni, was completely absorbed with picking the hell out of his snout. mind you this was not just a mere quick 'sweep' to remove unwanted sticky rubble, but a full fledged surgical strike to the bottom of his brain. his finger was so far up his nose that you would have thought that he was trying to scratch an itch at the base of his brain stem. then...ohhh and you know where this is leading; he extracted the finger and proceeded to place said digit into his mouth. it was so hilarious to watch this scenario develop. I can't believe that he was so oblivious to the world around him while he obsessed about his buggers.

props to ryno for rekindling my burning derise to return to the big easy. your calls are always welcome, and sorry to hear your signal got crossed. I will run your idea by the man steering the 'death star' into cajun territory. how could he not want me to come along? I'm a pretty good wingman, when it comes to handing beers and keeping such procedures from the peering eyes of the law, I engage in stealth tactics that border on pure genius. I hope you get some satisfaction in that your city is a hell of a lot cooler than suckton. and just when I think I cannot be any sadder of this fact, I totally redeem myself when I hear that a certain sweet girl from oxford dealt me some props. and you, my friend, got completely shut out. talk about bringing balance to the universe.


ok then,
la migra

Posted by Stan at 6/27/2002 | Permalink

stop the presses...

the supreme court has just ruled that it is unconstitutional to use the phrase 'God bless' on a homeless person sign.

advocate

Posted by Stan at 6/27/2002 | Permalink

bandwagon fans...

in the following picture you will see Texas governor rick perry flashing the hook 'em horns. this is the same rick who was a former cheerleader at a/m. perry is just another bandwagon fan, riding on the succes of others for his own glory. it just sickens me.

word,
non-fairweather johnson

Posted by Stan at 6/26/2002 | Permalink

what's on tap for tonight you ask? how about 'tomar mis copas' con nathan? does that do anything for ya? that's levitation holmes.

I'm about to embark on a journey into the cougar high bar scene. these bushleaguers haven't the slighest clue. their guys are almost as cool as that 17 year old who used to watch the door between the colorado room and the buffalo club in austin. he thought he was top dawg because he was going to shsu to pledge pike. pikes forever, man. almost as cool as that aggie at the gun store this weekend who was trying to be a smart ass. lest we forget who lifted the ncaa trophy above their shoulders this weekend. I had the last laugh, because I made him show me a ton of products, and pull out a lot of scopes and range finders, only to have me walk out on him in mid-sentence.

$3 pitcher night + no agenda + my wingman + women = recipe for fun. before you pass judgement, know that eventhough there is no holds barred in relation to women, we are true gents and we follow rules. the rules are the fabric of the sport and they bind together all wingmen so that they can test drive better models.

I make no excuses for my desires as a man,
el mariachi

Posted by Stan at 6/24/2002 | Permalink

2002 ncaa national champs!

I'm back in town safe and sound. I had to listen to the game on the ol' am. if anyone has a copy of the championship game they can lend me, I will forever be in debt to you. too tired to post, this is you'll get....for now. when I'm well and rested later this evening I will give y'all a full recap.

hasta luego,
'02 champ

Posted by Stan at 6/24/2002 | Permalink

texas 6 - trees 5

we are sitting in the driver's seat for another trophy. I fully expect the dogpile on saturday afternoon at omaha to have a lot of hook 'em horns hand signs coming out of it.

hook 'em

Posted by Stan at 6/20/2002 | Permalink

I have just been introduced to the bluetones, and I can already tell I'm going to dig them. thanks r.h.

later dude

Posted by Stan at 6/18/2002 | Permalink

all I have to say is that she's not that innocent. I know from first hand experience.

a fan

Posted by Stan at 6/17/2002 | Permalink

so, I'm back from the nether regions of south houston. damn this city is so big. I'm amazed at the sheer size of the urban sprawl. I was testing the boundaries of the broadcast signal of the local fm stations, I had to switch to a cd 6 or 9 miles from my final destination because the songs were becoming a bit fuzzy. in fact, I was so far down south that seagulls were shitting on my car instead of regular inland birds. if only I had had more alka-seltzer in my first aid kit, it would have been quite entertaining. I was practicing a bit of 'wild life management' by reducing a flock of seagull to a few lucky, nomadic individuals. survival of the fittest in it rawest form. okay, I have to ice my ankle now. the world cup bug bit us all, and we attempted to play a match of futbol. I went up for a header and I came down on a guys foot, ouch.

jeff corwin

Posted by Stan at 6/16/2002 | Permalink

friends, romans, groupies, lend me your ears. I would like to thanks everyone for their birthday calls, emails, wishes. it really made me feel appreciated. okay, time to hand out some awards:

first RECEIVED call goes to: s.s. at 6am. she knew I'd be up at 6am and not functioning by 9am. for that I give you mad props.

first email: koncert k8.

coolest email card: chickie, nice. I really had a HOT birthday.

cleverest thing to say about me: lacy, good 293 bull.

longest call: my grandmother, every year she proceeds to remind me of what she was doing when I was born, funny.

most oblivious: truman, he lacks opposable thumbs.

okay, I have a pop's day blowout to go to, I'll recap the events when I get back. actually, when I'm well rested. I'm running at a sleep deficit of at least 9 hours.

late,
quarter centurian

Posted by Stan at 6/16/2002 | Permalink

my dad gave me a pretty cool card. its this kid wearing a bowtie with this face covered in frosting. my mom got me a golden retriever one, wrong breed but its the though that counts. my brothers? hmm, can't wait for theirs later today. they always write retarded stuff. one year my baby brother wrote 'japi berdai', its funny if you hear him say it. sounds like tony montana.

I'm out,

xxv

Posted by Stan at 6/14/2002 | Permalink

link-stacular

be enthralled by this new craft from the orient...bonsai kitten

r. kelly's boston terrier on the loose

perpetual bubble wrap

complete the sequence: mahir, asianprince123, ________ (answer)

hot, sexy monkeys!

?

every automobile passenger's magna carta

Posted by Stan at 6/13/2002 | Permalink

dropping like ramones...

another soccer giant did face plant into the turf. with a tie against sweden, heavily favored argentina got bounced out of the tourney. the gauchos were my sentimental favorite to win. not only because I cheered wildly for them during mexico '86, but because it would help to temporarily ameliorate the current mood in argentina. I will refrain from making a bold prediction for fear of putting the curse of beano cook on my favorite team. I'll be cheering for usa to pull off a win against poland. I just hope that fuckin' jeff agoos doesn't fuck it up for us. I swear that guy is too auto goal prone, get his pinko ass off the field.

diego armando maradona

Posted by Stan at 6/12/2002 | Permalink

corollary...

no matter how ugly she is, no matter how grotesquely fat you think she may be and no matter how many drops of sweat she has beaded up around her 'stache, somebody, somewhere, is willing to get with her.

isn't it ironic that low-self esteem obese girls usually have the biggest 'tude problems? they really spoil it for the rest of us. especially if they have a hot friend, just because no one would even as so much as breathe around fatties, they get jealous and take your target away. and what is up with hotties hanging out with giantoras? I guess it serves the same purpose of guys hanging clippings of cars and stuff inside their lockers. maybe if they work hard enough, they may just be able to afford the wheels. in the case of skirts, blimp girls are used for self-scare tactics. they need the constant reminder, the reminder that if they let their bodies go they will end up like them. all alone. forever confined to the world of bridesmaiddom, and dance stagdom. I wish some of them would realize that they don't need a fattie to help them look prettier. all it does is bring a collective sour vibe to the group. I know from experience dude, if ya know what I mean. I once met such a grotesque girl. I don't know what sort of accident would cause the amputation of someone's personality, but she had it happen to her. she was the bitterest person I've ever met in my life. and then it dawned on me...'somebody, somewhere, is willing to get with her'. yuck, I just got a mental picture that took me days to purge from my system. that's all I have to say about that.

sincerely,
diet coke and vodka

Posted by Stan at 6/11/2002 | Permalink

ealier this morning les bleus got booted from the world cup...to the tune of a 2-nude loss to the swedes.

dear group a:

stop it! you are too much. after losing to a former colony of the great french empire, we could no longer hold our collective chins up. it was at that moment when we decided to let this team go the way of the albatross. we offer our unconditional surrender.

sincerely,
france

Posted by Stan at 6/11/2002 | Permalink

when I got back in town from my short friday afternoon/night junket, I mapped out the rest of my weekend. said map ended up crumpled on the floor of my room underneath a pile of old newspapers and smelly clothes, as hardly anything went according to plan. the first order of bidness was to truck it up to austin, to personally cheer on the horns. but two integral spokes in that wheel left for the hills of mason, texas. so, I took the lazy man's route and stayed around here. I called the cable co. knowing exactly what I wanted, expecting to pay a certain figure for the lewis/tyson rumble. the salesperson tacked on hidden fees that doubled that figure. suspicious that the guy was trying to take advantage of my naivete, I bitched him out and thrusted my middle finger in the air as I slammed the phone on his ass. my younger brother was getting back from sailing, so I went to a dive to watch it by myself. for one reason or another, I ended up leaving late and missed the first few rounds. so I wasn't there for long.

I called a friend and we decided to have 'a drink'. we met up at this bar, and it totally sucked. since we were in the area and a trip to another bar would have otherwise been a bust, we went to chodchky's to get a late night bite. when I bought our food, I placed my order, pointed to her and said, "and my lover will have a [whatever it was she wanted, I can't remember]." the cashier, a surprisingly astute lady, took one look at us and said, "this is your sweetie? she must be with you because you have the money."

can't a guy not catch a break in the ghetto?

that remark was actually funny. I laughed along with the girls, but I was secretly imagining stabbing that bitch's groin with a pinch fork. the night was pretty lame after that and I was back home rather early. watched the soccer games, and I again fell asleep on the couch. that's like 6 or 9 nights in a row that has happened.

she's got dumps like a truck, truck,
sisqo

Posted by Stan at 6/10/2002 | Permalink

5-2

horns punch their ticket to omaha, neb. we were down 0-1 after the opener friday night, but I wasn't worried. cougar high had to burn their ace to win, but I knew we would outlast them this weekend. I hated being in the position were there was no room for error, but I was positive we would prevail. truman and I listened to the broadcast in our quasi-bastion of horndom aka mi casa, and we couldn't be happier with the results.

hook 'em

Posted by Stan at 6/09/2002 | Permalink

I had the pleasure of visiting a top-notch cutting horse ranch. the facilities were fantastic, the horses eat better than I do sometimes. the threatening rain kept us from ridding, but I should be able to next time I go. who knows maybe I'll pick up a pointer or too. I do not doubt that one bit.

Posted by Stan at 6/08/2002 | Permalink

earlier this evening I caught this show about private jets on the discovery channel. very cool indeed. said show detailed the intricacies associated with owning a personal aircraft. it documented the adventures of two different dudes as they flew about the country addressing different business and personal needs. one of the coolest part was the feauture they did on all the different ways you can customize them, you can even get yours with a directTV receiver. imagine a gadget freak like me being in the middle of an interior tayloring session. I'm now more than ever determined to own one. if this little independent project I'm involved in really takes off, no pun intended, I might inch closer to my goal. well at least I'll be able to afford first class to all the horn's away games this year.

baby steps,
bob wiley

Posted by Stan at 6/06/2002 | Permalink

I need to quit passing out on the couch. my back is totally wrecked today. a few days ago I mentioned how great it would be to have a cocktail waitress at my disposal, I actually need a live in maid. one who will yell at my ass for being lazy, dump a bucket of water on me when I pass out, or threaten to help her shave her armpits when I'm being insolent. when I was younger we used to have live-in maids. there we so cool, but you could say I was a bit unappreciative of their kindness then. there was this one time my aunt bought me a zap it!, which was a dissapearing ink squirt gun. my first victim was carmen, I shot up her white polyesther dress that she had hanging in her room to wear when she had the day off. the damned ink would not come off. I could tell she was a pissed when she saw it, and I told her that if she washed the dress in hot water it would totally come off. 'are you sure?' she asked. 'yeah, it said so in the box', I replied. bullshit! I fibbed a little in my state of panic to buy me some time before my mom came home. anyone knows that hot water and synthetic textiles do not mix. her dress shrunk like a geriatric penis. she might as well have put in on a barbie, because no grown human could squeeze into it.

I promise I'll be nicer this time,
snak pack

Posted by Stan at 6/06/2002 | Permalink

what I learned today:

so having this little girl visiting me today has made me aware of certain things again. now onto the obligatory reflective part:

the masai people of kenya were so moved to hear about the us's losses on 9.11.01 that they gave the us the gift of 14 cows; a highly prized gift among the nomadic herdsmen. they turned the cows over to a slightly overwhelmed deputy chief of mission at the us embassy in nairobi. every once in a while, I read something that makes me think that maybe most of the people in this world are good, after all, like this article (source)

the nike reuse–a–shoe program collects and recycles over 2 million pairs of athletic shoes per year. the shoes are ground up and turned into sports surfaces such as basketball and tennis courts, soccer, football and baseball fields, tracks and playground surfaces. it takes about 2,000 pairs of shoes to make one average size playground fall protection surface. I have now found a use my all my ol' kicks that are taking up prime real estate in my closet.

the buttons on the cuffs of men's suit jackets originated with napoleon, who put ornamental buttons on his officers' uniforms; to keep them from wiping their noses on their sleeves.

oysters are able to change their sex twice times a year. not only are oysters the world's 'perfect' food, they happen to also be the world's perfect tranvestite. I learned this during last night's episode of 'a cook's tour'

the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow is....? certainly faster than the snail's pace on I-10. but if you really must know, its 45 km/hr

boys have penises and girls have vaginas,
miko hughes

Posted by Stan at 6/05/2002 | Permalink

so I've been trusted with another human being's life for the day. I'm confident I'm going a decent job. it would be excellent had I actually slept last night, I'm sure we would have gone to the zoo earlier or something. I love the zoo. so far she's a tad bit afraid of my dog, yet she likes going on walks. as of now we've taken three. the name truman is beyond her speech capabilities but she keeps pointing in his general direction, begging me to take her over there. someone please lend me some disney dvds for I have none. all I have are my old tapes, but my vcr is not hooked up. I pulled up the disney site, while this blogger window is minimized to the size of a matchbox, so bare with me. okay, I'm going to try to her get to take a nap, because I can sure use one. who am I kidding? I know I won't be able to sleep for fear I'm going to roll over her and crush her. I'm perfectly content with her sleeping and me watching the history channel at a whisper quiet volume level.

will somebody get this kid a happy meal!
sonny

Posted by Stan at 6/05/2002 | Permalink

off-site location: power n8's
on the tube: rudy
mp3: moulin rouge snd track

so the bottle of sake is cashed and I have a severe case of the meat belch, and 3am cannot get here soon enough. but that's okay, I'm conversing with another cajun and things couldn't be better. power nate is off doing who knows what. actually he's right behind me. we are surfing al gore's internet together, like the pair of geeks we are. trying to figure out the cords to this song, but my fingers aren't doing what my mind is telling them to do. what we have here is failure to communicate. I better put la guitarra away before I break something. much like a camera breaking winonna's elbow. oh my, I'm dizzier than a fish trapped inside a washing machine.

estoy mas mareado que un pescado en una lavadora,
me

Posted by Stan at 6/05/2002 | Permalink

the world cup has consummed me

I haven't found a solution to my insomnia, but I now have something to help me pass the time. even after truman has passed out. and what is up with him barking at me to let him inside his kennel? he would much rather sleep inside his box than watch tv with me. even my 'suck' vibe is being picked up by my own pet. but that is beside the point, anyway, long after he's down and out I have three back-to-back-to-back soccer matches to lull me to sleep. while I may not be able to list every team in the premiership, or the bundesliga, I have an appreciation for the strategy involved. some of you might mistake it for some haphazardly bouncing of a spherical object, I can dissect 4-3-3, a 4-4-2, and a 3-5-2 and tell you how to taylor the game tempo you desire by implementing long-ball or ball possesion tactics. yet, goals are rarer than a true college bound stripper.
eventhough, this year's edition of el mundial is being paced by a scorching 3 goal per game average, it doesn't seem that much over a 90 minute span. especially if you have to put up with incessant rambling from the chodes at univision. a night owl like myself still has to milk ounces of bonus excitement to keep me alert. when the usual soccer minutia bores me, I resort to doing things such as marveling at the spectacle of different hair styles players don; the ever present mullet, and an assortment of cornrows and rastafarian coifs.
seeing the gallery of hair paraded in front of me can make me chuckle for so long. my favorite, by far, soccer watching 'side project' is seeing the number of the on-field theatrics players engage in, in hopes of drawing a free kick from the referee. some of them even go to great lengths to draw the dreaded yellow or red card. this year's oscar for 'best actor' goes to rivaldo of brazil, for this epic performance of clutching his face and chest in agony after being stuck by the ball in the legs during the waning moments of their opening match against turkey. and the award for 'supporting cast' goes to the field medics and trainers. you should see the wonders these guys do after a player collapses in a tumble of arms and legs. whatever they spray on the players I want it. one minute a player is thrashing on the field, and the next he's gunning for the ball after a sideline session with one of these shamans. think of all the worldly good they would do if someone got the bright idea of opening a hospital solely staffed by soccer trainers. if they can patch up a player with a canister and a rickety strecher, think of all the near dead they would be able to resuscitate with a properly equiped hospital facility. std's would cease to exist for sure.

'all I did was drop off a check, and they named a hospital wing for me?" -- homer j. simpson

sincerely,
doogie howser

Posted by Stan at 6/04/2002 | Permalink

so the day of my birth is fast approaching. tell me where is says that you can't have a good time prior to that? I plan on celebrating in anticipation of my glorious day. at the rate I'm going I might find myself celebrating my day on a highway somewhere in the confederacy. I should buy a cake and leave it in my car for when that day arrives. my friend did that our freshman year of college. we got a cake, and when his car hit its 69,000th mile we pulled over, ballons and all, and had some cake on west anderson lane in austin.
perhaps, I'll head back to nola. that is if I haven't wore out my welcome mat. harrah's is calling me back. maybe this time I won't just play long enough to score a free beverage. what I wouldn't give to have a cocktail waitress here. having an attractive scantily clad young lady around to fetch me beverages would certainly have its advantages. spending a weekend marinating in liquor and sin in the big easy is just my bag, babey.

ladies and gentlemen...,
burt bacharach

Posted by Stan at 6/04/2002 | Permalink

huge email of the day goes to my friend sir william wallup:

What kind of scheme are you cooking up with all of your new-found free time that would require an old TXOU progrum, ice cubes, and a nine iron?

Will Madison


classic,
stuffed buffalo head

Posted by Stan at 6/03/2002 | Permalink

rats: lakers back in the finals
current read: brighter than a thousand suns: a personal history of the atomic scientists (thanks dad)
today's tally: one boar

so lovemuscle asked if I saw game 7. I told him, because I was on I-10, I had the displeasure of listening to the game on the am. well if you believe in all things being balanced, the horns beat baylor 2-nude to advance to the super regionals in the ncaa baseball tourney. can't have it all go your way, and I'll take a horns win any day.

since today was a day of sabbath, I figured I should have some fun. again, I failed to arrange for a genital touching ceremony with [insert incredidle luscious supermodel name here], so I went in search of a little entertainment. and by 'little entertainment', I don't mean monkeys and midgets. with nothing notable to occupy my time, I headed out of town for a mini-excursion.

highlights:
- 3 month old foal trying to bite my junk
- said foal drop kicking me
- a nice entertaining round of 'moutain bike joust'
- jalapeño hamburgers, yumm
- s___'s lemon pie, tasty
- getting my ass schooled in badmiton

so now I'm back in h-town in one piece. with nothing notable to occupy my time, I might sack up and finish my season season on le xbox. so far I'm undefeated in two years, with the final game left to go. I'm having a hard time getting motivated, scoring my 6,900th warner to faulk TD is losing its appeal. even if I don't end up doing any mind shattering exciting activities the rest of the night, I still have to look forward to staying up all night in anticipation of the brasil match against sacrificial goat errrr...turkey.

5 wide rip 8-88, on two on two,
#13

Posted by Stan at 6/02/2002 | Permalink