This morning I was on a contest kick. I signed up for a few things online and wanted to make sure I was checking out the fine print of the contest rules. What I found was pretty interesting:
In the event Canadians are eligible to enter as specified in the Eligibility paragraph below, and if there is a Canadian Winner, the Winner will be required to correctly answer a mathematical skill testing question as a condition of receiving the prize.
Is it just me or does it seem like they’re looking for a way to get out of giving the prize to a Canadian citizen? Now I’m wondering what kind of math problem they’ll be required to solve. I imagine it would be something like this:
Two hosers took off and bought 5 tukes for CDN$10.98 each. If hoser Mike covers 62 percent of the cost and hoser Getty covers 38 percent, how much would box seat tickets to the Maple Leafs be?*
As it turns out, a friend of mine whose wife is from the Great White North explained that Canadian contests are actually run this way. They’re required to answer a simple math problem before collecting their winnings. Sounds reasonable enough. But still an odd clause to find in a U.S. contest, if you’re asking this gal.
*Apologies to any tuke wearing Canadian friends who found the stereotypes in this math problem offensive. I learned most of what I know of Canada via Bob and Doug in the 80’s. So take off, eh?
Every so often I’ll hear a song a commercial that grabs me, and I need to have it for my collection. At the very least, I need to listen to it ad nauseum on YouTube until the song crush subsides and I select a new favorite tune of the week. For instance, a few years ago, I really liked the song at the end of this ad (skip ahead to :53):
Apparently, so did a lot of other people, because one quick look on the Interwebs, and I found many people had posted the same query. So then I watched the real deal. Love the self-deprecating Gump humor and funky fresh beat in this video, so I ended up adding the song to my personal music library:
The only thing that could possibly beat that song with a rabbit and a bat wid a hat was this adorably nerdly (and surprisingly catchy) cover:
ABC has a new show they’ve been advertising every chance they get–The Whispers. Creeeepyyyy! The Girly runs out of the room every time one of the ads comes on, and I can’t say I blame her. Great googly moogly, I don’t know how people watch creepy shows. I watched one episode of American Horror Story and felt like I needed therapy afterward. That was some disturbing shizazzle.
This show surely won’t reach that level of twisted, but it looks just creepy enough to keep wimps like me at bay. BUT! The song they played on one of the promos grabbed me by the shirt collar and pleaded for me to find it and listen to it in all its full-length glory. It wasn’t enough to make me want to see the show, but I was ready to search high and low for the full song. There was something familiar about it.
Here’s the one-minute promo with the song in it:
Creepy, yes? Even having the handsome Aiden from Revenge as a main cast member isn’t enough to make me watch.
Mr. Wombat placed the song in about three seconds, but he didn’t know the band doing the cover. He and I both really like the cover! I’m an 80’s girl, but I more of an alternative gal.
It’s haunting, yes, but catchy and it works:
Hearing that version makes me want to see the Go-Go’s get all goth and writhe around in a cemetary in slow motion. Or I could just listen to it on The YouTube and enjoy it with no images.
We’d stop dead in our tracks when we heard him coming from the next street over. If you were racing your friend on your banana seat five-speed bike, you laid a patch of rubber so you could stop and turn your ear to be sure of the direction from which the sound was coming. You could approximate the distance, direction, and number of minutes you had to grab your money and get to the curb.
The ding ding dinging of that distinctive bell was surely ordered up straight from Pavlov, as it brought the whole street running every time it whispered its cool, sweet message in our ears: The ice cream man is coming!
That truck was a summer evening fixture in our small town. I couldn’t tell you what any of the drivers looked like, but we were always grateful for the arrival of the big truck, whose cargo bed was fitted with a giant freezer, adorned with photos of all our favorite frozen treats. Some of my faves:
When my kids were younger, and I’d hear that familiar dinging in the distance, my lips tightened and my eyes closed as I tried to will it away. “Please don’t come down our street.” I know that sounds awful, but if you could see the toads driving these beat up mini pick-up trucks, you’d be helping me to barracade the door. That truck might as well be fitted with a loudspeaker that announces, “Come see the pedophile, children! I have a rocket pop for youuuuu!” *shudder*
Nowadays the kids are old enough to get that he’s just plain skeevy. I can’t figure out if today’s ice cream truck drivers are creepier or if we just never noticed they were creepy as kids.
[SIDEBAR: Of course, this is coming from a girl who happily climbed into a Jeep with a friend as a two Army men drove us around town during a recruiting event. I also seem to recall they fed us snacks. I’m certain I was not buckled in, either. There was no buckling in those days. Especially with an open side/top vehicle. Where would the adventure be in that? And with men we didn’t know at all. Dear God, I must have been absent the day they had the “stranger danger” talk.]
I wish they could have had the same experience of dashing out to meet the ice cream man that we had as kids. Things have changed so much since I was their age. I’m sure they think our childhood sounds lame, because there were no electronics or hi-tech means of communication. It was a simpler time with simpler pleasures.
One of which was running out to meet the ice cream man and handing him a sweaty, crumpled dollar bill (or change from your piggy bank) and enjoying a cold treat on a warm summer’s evening with your friends from the neighborhood. And no worries about creepy dudes.
As a result of all the rooting around that was done in my sinus region, I not only find myself lacking energy, but I’m also less interested in cruising stores, as I’m still at risk for picking up germs that would maybe not be so bad for you, but would be pretty sucky for me at the moment.
So I’ve turned to shopping online for any clothing needs family members have had over the past few months. It’s worked out pretty well so far.
I was just thinking today how much I miss trolling the racks at TJ Maxx and Marshalls, so, just for kicks, I thought I’d see what TJ Maxx offers online. Who knew? They have a site! Their in-store merchandise is ever-changing and turns over quickly, so I never imagined they would sell their wares online.
Was I ever wrong!
And I’m more than a little concerned about the current state of the fashion world.
I have a few questions (all photo credits go to TJ Maxx online):
Does anyone else think maybe the person who invented this was just prancing around the room with a piece of fabric (or some leftover wrapping paper) and decided it might actually sell like this?
I can see having that opening above boob level for a little cleavage peepage, but this rib cage opening just makes it look like a book depository right there on her abs. Or Cookie Monster’s mouth. Or a great place to put the hangers of the other clothes you’re about to try on. Anyone get this?
Please, PLEASE don’t bring back bibbed overalls. They’re calling this ensemble a jumper, but we all know it’s fancy farmer pants, and they need to be put out to pasture for good.
These are called “harem capris.” I say if you’re going to do harem, commit to the harem, like it’s flippin’ hammer time, m’kay? This just looks like there’s some extra junk up front and nobody wants to see that mess going on up in there.
I call this look, “Larry the Cable Guy Does Drag,” because, obviously. And order soon ladies–it’s almost gone!
This is the Open Back Detail Dress. It conjures many questions. First and foremost, is this really not a swim suit? Swim coverup? What does one wear under this in the event of a stiff breeze or the need to bend over?
Not much covering that caboose. I’m not a prude, just a realist. Someone is going to get to see more “details” than this dress is offering. I can’t even begin to comment on the shoe choice. Next!
Well, isn’t this special? This Ruffle Swim Top by Jessica Simpson should have an age limit on the hanger–no one over the age of six should be allowed to enter the pool area in this little number*:
I’m having a Carol Burnett flashback here. It looks like someone tore down the sheer curtains and bunched them up to create this one-of-a-kind look (grab ’em while they last!):
So much going on here. They’re called “Slim Fit Knit Jogger.” I don’t know who’s hitting the road running in these, but something other than sandals might be a good footwear choice. Also, is it just me, or does she appear to be pooping her knickers at the moment the camera captured this?
Have you ever seen Brooke Shields on The Middle? This looks like something her character would wear. Is this really daywear? I’m so confused.
Good heavens, another version with fringe. It’s like the 40’s meets the trailer park meets Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves.
And on that note, I’m done shopping for now.
*Unless the adult wearing these has opted to pair them with some Daisy Dukes shorts, which would make total sense. To someone.
I’ve been recoving from fairly extensive sinus surgery, so I finally took the time to figure out iMovie. (I’ve also more than gotten our money’s worth out of our Netflix streaming.) I was getting frustrated with the other programs I’d been using, so I thought I’d give this a go. Much more fun, and like all things Apple, pretty intuitive. Still learning, so I’ll have to do some more videos for you. Lucky you.
Also, I hope you like dogs running in slo-mo: