I'm on vacation starting tomorrow. While I will miss you all terribly - actually I won't. I'll be to busy soaking up some sun and much needed relaxation. Have a great weekend, week and holiday.
Friday, August 27, 2004
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Yo! My name is Shaniqua and I want a job!
A study done by Marianne Bertrand and Sendhil Mullainathan of the University of Chicago Graduate School of Business shows that African-American sounding names are discriminated against more than White sounding names. The abstract explains:
While this isn't surprising the information is quite interesting. Read for yourself.
We perform a field experiment to measure racial discrimination in the labor market. We answer help-wanted adsin Boston and Chicago newspapers by sending resumes. To manipulate perception of race, each resume is randomly assigned either a very African American sounding name or a very White sounding name. This manipulation produces a significant gap in the rate of callbacks for interviews. White names elicit about 50% more callbacks than African American names. We also investigate how imprvements in credentials affect discrimination. For each employement ad, we send resumes of higher and lower quality. For Whites, the higher quality resumes elicit 30 percent more callbacks. For African Americans, however, the higher quality resumes do not elicit significantly more callbacks. In other words, African Americans benefit little if at all from improving their credentials. The extent of discrimination is remarkably uniform across occupations and industries. Similarly, Federal contractors (for whom affirmative action is better enforced) and employers who list "Equal Opportunity Employer" in their ad discriminate as much as other employers. In Chicago, we find that employers located in more African American neighborhoods discriminate less.
While this isn't surprising the information is quite interesting. Read for yourself.
/edit/ It appears that this is a hot topic. Apparently there is an article about this on ABCNews. Another interesting read./edit/
Hou-Hou-Hou-Hou-Hou-House Music!!
It's Frankie Knuckles Day in Chicago!! WTF - Frankie Knuckles Day in Chicago?! Hellz yeah you heard right. For those in the area, here is the info.
The City of Chicago has proclaimed Wednesday, August 25th, Frankie Knuckles Day, in honor of Chicago's own Grammy Award winning DJ and producer.
There will be two special events on Wednesday:
The Honorary Street Dedication
At 12:00 noon at the corner of Jefferson & Adams (location of the legendary Warehouse night spot), the City will officially present an honorary street in Frankie's name: Frankie Knuckles Way
The Celebration
From 6:30-9:00 p.m., Frankie will be DJing live in Grant Park (Michigan Ave) for the finale of the City's DJ in the Park Series. This will be a very special day in honor of the Godfather of House and for dance music enthusiasts everywhere.
Please pass along to anyone who may be interested. See you at the festivities!
The City of Chicago has proclaimed Wednesday, August 25th, Frankie Knuckles Day, in honor of Chicago's own Grammy Award winning DJ and producer.
There will be two special events on Wednesday:
The Honorary Street Dedication
At 12:00 noon at the corner of Jefferson & Adams (location of the legendary Warehouse night spot), the City will officially present an honorary street in Frankie's name: Frankie Knuckles Way
The Celebration
From 6:30-9:00 p.m., Frankie will be DJing live in Grant Park (Michigan Ave) for the finale of the City's DJ in the Park Series. This will be a very special day in honor of the Godfather of House and for dance music enthusiasts everywhere.
Please pass along to anyone who may be interested. See you at the festivities!
Friday, August 20, 2004
Percentages and Numbers
Found on lmb, this is about par for the course. And no, it's not that time of the month!
I AM 43% ASSHOLE/BITCH!  I may think I am an asshole or a bitch, but the truth is I am a good person at heart. Yeah sure, I can have a mean streak in me, but most of the people I meet like me. |
You Know You're Old When...
Your old high school is turned into a middle school. Has it been 12 years since graduation? Albeit there is a new high school, a little piece of nostalgia is forever gone. How depressing?!
Is this a shock?
Teen Drug Use Linked to Friends' Activities
Well who knew? To me, this is very obvious. What I think is most surprising are the statistics.
Well who knew? To me, this is very obvious. What I think is most surprising are the statistics.
A new study reveals what many parents probably already suspect: A teen's friendsI grew up in the world of my parents knew my friends and my friends' parents. That was the only way we were allowed to go to each other's houses - inside each other's houses. If your parents found out you went in a house and they didn't know the parents that was a beating waiting to happen. Correction: a beating and a grounding because you didn't need to leave the house if you didn't know how to act. My daughters will grow up with the same kind of rules. Even know when Munchkin says she wants to go to so and so's house. The reply is always the same. "No, I don't know that person's parents."
play a big role in his or her actions.
The more sexually active friends a teen has and the more time a teen spends with a boyfriend or girlfriend, the greater the risk that teen will smoke, drink or use drugs, according to the annual report by the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse (CASA) at Columbia University.
The moral of the story: Know what your kids are doing. It's like the campaign says - parents are the anti-drug.
What for you talk like that?
Matthew Jones has written an article called "Speaking in Tongues" for the diversityinbusiness.com website. An excerpt is below:
Black people are bilingual and don't even know it. We are talking the same language all the time, but depending on who is listening to the conversation, it's another language. You feel pressure from society to blend in and pressure from your community not to sell out. It's very hard to balance the two. I think this is the main reason I went to a mainstream university as opposed to a HBCU. My life wasn't going to be spent surrounded by black people exclusively so why subject myself to that in college. I really appreciate the diversity that I afforded myself with that opportunity.
For the record, I will continue to be who I am. My name is already unique, I refuse to be discriminated against because of the way I talk.
As a community, many African Americans have long been offended by the notion that they speak differently from the rest of society. Some are easily offended when they hear others make a comment about someone else “talking Black.” However, Dr. Baugh estimates that 80 percent of Americans can successfully identify the racial or linguistic heritage of an unseen speaker after hearing only one word, based on a study he conducted in 1999.I find this statement particularly interesting. I've been "accused" throughout my life for talking "proper" or as black folx tend to say "talking white". Munchkin's teacher said that she talks proper. You know what people? It's called English. Learn it, use it and prosper because of it.
Black people are bilingual and don't even know it. We are talking the same language all the time, but depending on who is listening to the conversation, it's another language. You feel pressure from society to blend in and pressure from your community not to sell out. It's very hard to balance the two. I think this is the main reason I went to a mainstream university as opposed to a HBCU. My life wasn't going to be spent surrounded by black people exclusively so why subject myself to that in college. I really appreciate the diversity that I afforded myself with that opportunity.
For the record, I will continue to be who I am. My name is already unique, I refuse to be discriminated against because of the way I talk.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Thanks for all the Emails
In honor of chain e-mails everywhere, I offer the following (sent by a friend as a chain e-mail). Oh, the irony of it all.
Thanks to all my friends who sent me such important e-mail in 2004!!
Because of all of you...
I stopped drinking Coca-Cola after I found out that it's good for removing toilet stains.
I stopped going to the movies for fear of sitting on a needle infected with AIDS.
I smell terrible, but thank God I stopped using deodorants because they cause cancer.
I don't leave my car in any parking lot even though I sometimes have to walk about seven blocks, for fear that someone might drug me with a perfume sample and then try to rob me.
I also stopped answering the phone for fear that they will ask me to dial a stupid number and then I get a phone bill from hell with calls to Uganda, Singapore and Tokyo.
I stopped consuming several foods for fear that the estrogen they contain may turn me gay.
I also stopped eating chicken and hamburgers because they are nothing more than horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers that are bred in a lab so that places like McDonalds can sell their Big Macs.
I also stopped drinking anything out of a can for fear that I will get sick from the rat feces and urine.
When I go to parties, I am not overly friendly with anyone for fear that he or she will take my kidneys and leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice.
I donated all my savings to the Amy Bruce account. That poor sick girl that was about to die in the hospital. Funny thing, she never seems to get any older
I went bankrupt from bounced checks that I made, expecting the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL were supposed to send me when I participated in their special e-mail program.
It's weird, though that my new free cell phone never arrived, and neither did the passes for my paid vacation to Disneyland.
I also didn't get my certificates from Applebee's or Cracker Barrel.
But I am positive that all this is because of the chain I broke or forgot to follow and I got a curse from hell.
IMPORTANT NOTE:
If you don't send this e-mail to at least 1200 people in the next ten seconds, a bird will crap on you today at 7:00 pm
Thanks to all my friends who sent me such important e-mail in 2004!!
Because of all of you...
I stopped drinking Coca-Cola after I found out that it's good for removing toilet stains.
I stopped going to the movies for fear of sitting on a needle infected with AIDS.
I smell terrible, but thank God I stopped using deodorants because they cause cancer.
I don't leave my car in any parking lot even though I sometimes have to walk about seven blocks, for fear that someone might drug me with a perfume sample and then try to rob me.
I also stopped answering the phone for fear that they will ask me to dial a stupid number and then I get a phone bill from hell with calls to Uganda, Singapore and Tokyo.
I stopped consuming several foods for fear that the estrogen they contain may turn me gay.
I also stopped eating chicken and hamburgers because they are nothing more than horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers that are bred in a lab so that places like McDonalds can sell their Big Macs.
I also stopped drinking anything out of a can for fear that I will get sick from the rat feces and urine.
When I go to parties, I am not overly friendly with anyone for fear that he or she will take my kidneys and leave me taking a nap in a bathtub full of ice.
I donated all my savings to the Amy Bruce account. That poor sick girl that was about to die in the hospital. Funny thing, she never seems to get any older
I went bankrupt from bounced checks that I made, expecting the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL were supposed to send me when I participated in their special e-mail program.
It's weird, though that my new free cell phone never arrived, and neither did the passes for my paid vacation to Disneyland.
I also didn't get my certificates from Applebee's or Cracker Barrel.
But I am positive that all this is because of the chain I broke or forgot to follow and I got a curse from hell.
IMPORTANT NOTE:
If you don't send this e-mail to at least 1200 people in the next ten seconds, a bird will crap on you today at 7:00 pm
1974 - yes 1974!
Found this at Carla's
|
In 1974 (the year you were born) |
|
Gerald Ford becomes president of the US Hank Aaron hits his 715th home run to beat Babe Ruth's record Impeachment hearings are opened against President Nixon by the House Judiciary Committee President Nixon resigns President Gerald Ford issues an unconditional pardon to ex-President Nixon for all federal crimes Muhammad Ali knocks out George Foreman in the eighth round to regain the heavyweight crown in Zaire Heiress Patty Hearst is kidnapped by and eventually joins the Symbionese Liberation Army Dungeons & Dragons officially released People magazine is published for the first time Kate Moss, Alyson Hannigan, Penelope Cruz, Alanis Morissette, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Ryan Seacrest are born Oakland Athletics win the World Series Miami Dolphins win Superbowl VIII Philadelphia Flyers win the Stanley Cup Blazing Saddles is the top grossing film All the President's Men by Bernstein and Woodward is published "Killing Me Softly With His Song" wins Grammy for song of the year |
Monday, August 16, 2004
We're Off to the Animal Shelter
Remember when I told you about our cat, Squeak? You can read all about it here. Anyway, apparently the straw that broke the camel's back (or MD's anyway) happened yesterday. I got home and there is a note taped to the bathroom door "Do not to let the cat out. She is covered in s*@!." Of course I'm thinking what did she do now?
I gave MD a call because he was out driving. The man likes to cruise Lake Shore Drive on Sundays. Who am I to criticize? He could be at home bothering me instead, but I digress. Apparently Squeak was chewing on the cord to our halogen track lights. MD thought he saw her doing it but gave her the benefit of the doubt. Then he caught her in the act and the chase ensued.
He chased her into Munchkin and Squirm's room and she shitted by the radiator. He chased her into the computer room (yes the computers have their own room), and she shitted on the floor. He chased her into the full bath and she shitted in the corner by the pipe (we have radiator heat) and proceeded to ground it all over the pipe, the tile floor and herself. Finally he chased her into the half-bath (her holding cell) and she shitted on the floor MD had just mopped and cleaned. The MD had to clean up all the cat shit all over the house.
He has decreed that she will not be allowed out of the half-bath unless it is to escort her from the premises which will happen this week. I guess what capped it off is that he decided to listen to CDs and when the two CD players wouldn't sync up with each other he checked the cord between the two. It was chewed to the point of no return and now needs to be replaced.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I think he is most disappointed because he has never had such a bad ass cat and he's had about 8. I've only had one and as I've said before she learned her lesson the first time she got in trouble. My only hope is that Squeak can find a new home. One where she doesn't chew on things and can go outside on a regular basis. On the other hand, we are due to go on vacation in two weeks and I was worried what we were going to do with Squeak while we were gone. It's now no longer an issue. C'est la vie!
I gave MD a call because he was out driving. The man likes to cruise Lake Shore Drive on Sundays. Who am I to criticize? He could be at home bothering me instead, but I digress. Apparently Squeak was chewing on the cord to our halogen track lights. MD thought he saw her doing it but gave her the benefit of the doubt. Then he caught her in the act and the chase ensued.
He chased her into Munchkin and Squirm's room and she shitted by the radiator. He chased her into the computer room (yes the computers have their own room), and she shitted on the floor. He chased her into the full bath and she shitted in the corner by the pipe (we have radiator heat) and proceeded to ground it all over the pipe, the tile floor and herself. Finally he chased her into the half-bath (her holding cell) and she shitted on the floor MD had just mopped and cleaned. The MD had to clean up all the cat shit all over the house.
He has decreed that she will not be allowed out of the half-bath unless it is to escort her from the premises which will happen this week. I guess what capped it off is that he decided to listen to CDs and when the two CD players wouldn't sync up with each other he checked the cord between the two. It was chewed to the point of no return and now needs to be replaced.
It was bound to happen sooner or later. I think he is most disappointed because he has never had such a bad ass cat and he's had about 8. I've only had one and as I've said before she learned her lesson the first time she got in trouble. My only hope is that Squeak can find a new home. One where she doesn't chew on things and can go outside on a regular basis. On the other hand, we are due to go on vacation in two weeks and I was worried what we were going to do with Squeak while we were gone. It's now no longer an issue. C'est la vie!
Don't Settle for the Oke-Doke
I got this from a friend and wanted to share. We need to start teaching our young girls their worth - the earlier the better. This applies to anyone regardless of race.
In a brief conversation, a man asked a woman he was pursuing the question,
"What kind of man are you looking for?" She sat quietly for a moment before looking him in the eye and asking.
"Do you really want to know?" Reluctantly, he said, "Yes." She began to expound...
As a woman in this day and age, I am in a position to ask a man what he can do for me that I can't do for myself. I pay my own bills. I take care of my household without the help of any man...or woman for that matter. I am in the position to ask, "What can you bring to the table?"
The man looked at her. Clearly he thought that she was referring to money.
She quickly corrected his thought and stated, "I am not referring to money. I need something more. I need a man who is striving for perfection in every aspect of life." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and asked her to explain.
She said, "I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection mentally because I need conversation and mental stimulation. I don't need a simple-minded man.
I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection spiritually because I don't need to be unequally yoked... believers mixed with unbelievers is a recipe for disaster. I need a man who is striving for perfection financially because I don't need a financial burden. I am looking for someone who is sensitive enough to understand what I go through as a woman, but strong enough to keep me grounded.
I am looking for someone who I can respect. In order to be submissive, I must respect him. I cannot be submissive to a man who isn't taking care of his business. I have no problem being submissive...he just has to be worthy. God made woman to be a helpmate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself.
When she finished her spiel, she looked at him. He sat there with a puzzled look on his face. He said, "You're asking a lot."
She replied, "I'm worth a lot."
In a brief conversation, a man asked a woman he was pursuing the question,
"What kind of man are you looking for?" She sat quietly for a moment before looking him in the eye and asking.
"Do you really want to know?" Reluctantly, he said, "Yes." She began to expound...
As a woman in this day and age, I am in a position to ask a man what he can do for me that I can't do for myself. I pay my own bills. I take care of my household without the help of any man...or woman for that matter. I am in the position to ask, "What can you bring to the table?"
The man looked at her. Clearly he thought that she was referring to money.
She quickly corrected his thought and stated, "I am not referring to money. I need something more. I need a man who is striving for perfection in every aspect of life." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and asked her to explain.
She said, "I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection mentally because I need conversation and mental stimulation. I don't need a simple-minded man.
I am looking for someone who is striving for perfection spiritually because I don't need to be unequally yoked... believers mixed with unbelievers is a recipe for disaster. I need a man who is striving for perfection financially because I don't need a financial burden. I am looking for someone who is sensitive enough to understand what I go through as a woman, but strong enough to keep me grounded.
I am looking for someone who I can respect. In order to be submissive, I must respect him. I cannot be submissive to a man who isn't taking care of his business. I have no problem being submissive...he just has to be worthy. God made woman to be a helpmate for man. I can't help a man if he can't help himself.
When she finished her spiel, she looked at him. He sat there with a puzzled look on his face. He said, "You're asking a lot."
She replied, "I'm worth a lot."
Unconscious Mutterings
It's been awhile but here we go...
It's been awhile but here we go...
- Server:: Exchange 2000
- Charlotte:: Hornets
- Jackson:: 5
- Resentment:: Eat at you
- Controlling:: My way
- Intense:: Makes you tingle all over
- November:: Munchkin's birthday
- Donkey:: Ass
- Weave:: Fake
- Satisfies:: Caramel, Peanuts, Nougat and Chocolate
Friday, August 06, 2004
Danger - Men Beware!
Police are warning all men who frequent clubs, parties and local pubs to be alert and stay cautious when offered a drink from any woman. Many females use a date rape drug on the market called ...Beer. The drug is found in liquid form and available anywhere. It comes in bottles, cans, from taps and in large "kegs". Beer is used by female sexual predators at parties and bars to persuade their male victims to go home and have sex with them. A woman needs only to get a guy to consume a few units of Beer and then simply ask him home for no-strings-attached sex. Men are rendered helpless against this approach. At other times these unfortunate men are swindled out of their life's savings, in a familiar scam known as a "relationship". In extreme cases, the female may even be shrewd enough to entrap the unsuspecting male into a longer-term form of servitude and punishment referred to as "marriage". Men are much more susceptible to this scam after Beer is administered and sex is offered by the predatory females. Please! Forward this warning to every male you know. If you fall victim to this beer and the women administering it..... there are male support groups where you can discuss the details of your shocking encounter with similarly affected like-minded guys. For the support group nearest you, just look up "Golf Courses" in the phone book.
In the News...
Say it ain't so. Rick James died today. He was 56. Truth be told, I thought he was older. Apparently it was natural causes but I sure everyone has their own theory. Whatever the cause I hope he is resting peacefully.
Another say it ain't so. Who the hell keeps their kids in cages? This people need to be slow-roasted over the fiery pit. I don't care the reason. When you have children you need to take care of them - properly. They didn't ask to be here and if you can't do it you need to find someone who can. This is f-ing ridiculous.
While this latest bit wasn't in the news, it was newsworthy. I will be on vacation next week. Will I be someplace fun and exotic filled with fruity drinks and paper umbrellas? Uh - NO! I have Vacation Bible School at church. Lava Lava Island here we come. Pray that I don't tell someone's rowdy child where to go and how to get there. These kids can and will test you. They just don't know - I'M NOT THE ONE! My own kids don't test me, let alone someone's badass kids. OK, the rant is over. VBS will be fine and fun. It always is. I just needed to get that mini-rant out of my system. Don't look so surprised, the rant is in me (just like the force) but it only makes it into the mainstream every once and again. You all have a great week while I'm gone. Be good to each other.
Another say it ain't so. Who the hell keeps their kids in cages? This people need to be slow-roasted over the fiery pit. I don't care the reason. When you have children you need to take care of them - properly. They didn't ask to be here and if you can't do it you need to find someone who can. This is f-ing ridiculous.
While this latest bit wasn't in the news, it was newsworthy. I will be on vacation next week. Will I be someplace fun and exotic filled with fruity drinks and paper umbrellas? Uh - NO! I have Vacation Bible School at church. Lava Lava Island here we come. Pray that I don't tell someone's rowdy child where to go and how to get there. These kids can and will test you. They just don't know - I'M NOT THE ONE! My own kids don't test me, let alone someone's badass kids. OK, the rant is over. VBS will be fine and fun. It always is. I just needed to get that mini-rant out of my system. Don't look so surprised, the rant is in me (just like the force) but it only makes it into the mainstream every once and again. You all have a great week while I'm gone. Be good to each other.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Friday Funny
I know it's still Thursday but I couldn't wait until Friday to post this. Enjoy!
--------------------
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was something wrong with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?"
I put my best hamster-healer face on and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
"Oh my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies." "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife. "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."
"OH, Gross!", they shrieked.
"Well, isn't THAT just Great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too.)
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the
females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly.
We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. "Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged. "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside. "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um....um....masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back."
He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."
We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's just... just...excited," my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my
flawless manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its... its... teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
2 Hamsters - $10...
1 Cage - $20...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a hamster's wacker...Priceless...
--------------------
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was something wrong with one of the two hamsters he holds prisoner in his room. "He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad. Can you help?"
I put my best hamster-healer face on and followed him into his bedroom. One of the little rodents was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do. "Honey," I called, "come look at the hamster!"
"Oh my gosh," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies." "What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!" I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife. "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (Again with the sarcasm, you think?)
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it. "Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience, I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."
"OH, Gross!", they shrieked.
"Well, isn't THAT just Great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little hamster babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too.)
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later. "We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.
"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified. "Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gingerly tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (You see a pattern here with the
females in my house?)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly.
We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap. "Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged. "I don't think hamsters do Lamaze," his mother noted to him. (Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb, for God's sake.)
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass. "What do you think, Doc, a c-section?" I suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside. "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This hamster is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen... Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most male species, they um....um....masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back."
He blushed, glancing at my wife. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."
We were silent, absorbing this. "So Ernie's just... just...excited," my wife offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood. More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly. "What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my
flawless manliness.
Tears were now running down her face. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its... its... teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.
"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the Veterinarian and hurriedly bundled the hamsters and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was going to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
2 Hamsters - $10...
1 Cage - $20...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a hamster's wacker...Priceless...
Starving Kids in Africa...
If you ever wondered why you had to be home for dinner, this might explain it. A new study takes a look at the family dinner and how it benefits kids. Now eat all your vegetables!
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
But How Much Is It?
According to an article I saw today, a Spa Offers Chocolate Bath Treatment. Briefly,
"Chocolate lovers have no doubt dreamed of it and now it can be a reality -- a dip in a bath full of melted chocolate."My question is what do they do with the chocolate once someone bathes in it? It's not like you can reuse it OR could you. Interesting premise.
How Much are You Worth
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
Look at Me...
One Nation Under God
This was an interesting email. It seems like a joke at first but you get the picture.
A college professor, an avowed Atheist, was teaching his class. He shocked several of his students when he flatly stated he was going to prove there is no God. Addressing the ceiling he shouted: "God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you 15 minutes!"
The lecture room fell silent. You could have heard a pin fall. Ten minutes went by. Again he taunted God, saying, "Here I am, God. I'm still waiting."
His countdown got down to the last couple of minutes when a Marine just released from active duty and newly registered in the class walked up to the professor, hit him full force in the face, and sent him butt over teacups from his lofty platform. The professor was out cold! At first the students were shocked and babbled in confusion.
The young Marine took a seat in the front row and sat silent. The class fell silent...waiting. Eventually, the professor came to, shaken. He looked at the young Marine in the front row. When the professor regained his senses and could speak he asked: "What's the matter with you? Why did you do that?"
"God was busy. He sent me."
One Nation Under God
A college professor, an avowed Atheist, was teaching his class. He shocked several of his students when he flatly stated he was going to prove there is no God. Addressing the ceiling he shouted: "God, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform. I'll give you 15 minutes!"
The lecture room fell silent. You could have heard a pin fall. Ten minutes went by. Again he taunted God, saying, "Here I am, God. I'm still waiting."
His countdown got down to the last couple of minutes when a Marine just released from active duty and newly registered in the class walked up to the professor, hit him full force in the face, and sent him butt over teacups from his lofty platform. The professor was out cold! At first the students were shocked and babbled in confusion.
The young Marine took a seat in the front row and sat silent. The class fell silent...waiting. Eventually, the professor came to, shaken. He looked at the young Marine in the front row. When the professor regained his senses and could speak he asked: "What's the matter with you? Why did you do that?"
"God was busy. He sent me."
One Nation Under God
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