Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Puglypaloosa Award: The Pug Scores a Bogey

Hi everybody,

I know there's been a delay in delivering the next round of entertainment here at Puglypaloosa. For most of you, the effect of alcohol has worn off, and ugly regret is starting to once again seep to the surface. So what do you say I make it up to you with my award acceptance ceremony as today's humble offering?

The rules that go with this award (thank you Boneman for deeming me worthy) are to list five things about yourself and pass the award on to other bloggers.

1) I worry that people will notice I tend to dwell a bit too long on art that features female nudity.

I fully became aware of this "quirk" (along with my blossoming sexuality) during my first visit to a world-renowned art museum. I tended to linger longer in front of paintings featuring exposed breasts and nether regions.

Gauging by the numerous old-timers in trenchcoats around me, I was reassuredly not alone in my new-found legal voyeurism.

However before you judge too harshly, "bare"* (* note the clever wordplay) in mind that the ladies of my admiration were universally "Reubenesque" and thereby fostered a future appreciation of the typical female blogger.

(UPDATE: I just realized the previous sentence may be horribly misinterpreted by one or more readers** (** well, the honest ones)! By "Reubenesque", I - of course - did not mean to imply that anyone out there is "plump" or not in shape, as measured by today's unrealistic*** (***  geez, apparently) standards! I simply meant that with liberal applications of sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, Russian dressing, Black Bart and yours truly, you would make a fine sandwich.)

During the same visit, I chanced upon a full-size plaster sculpture of a naked woman in a brass bed* (* also rendered in plaster). Long story short: I wound up explaining to security that another patron squeezed her bottle of baby powder on me for calling her "Reubenesque". Plaster fallout: I've been hooked on unclothed gals in full-body casts ever since.

2) I am obsessed with collecting applications for my iPhone.

It wouldn't be fair to the one or two non-geeks inadvertently stumbling across this post, for me to inflict a narrative of EVERY application (or "app" for us hipsters) that I have (so far). So allow me to share just two for now.

"Earthquakes": This app alerts me everytime an earthquake occurs somewhere in the world. Which apparently is every 15-friggin' minutes. So bite me, Haiti, I thought you were unique. And just so you know, I've cancelled my plans to abduct, er, rescue your orphans and convert them to my new servitude-based religion.

"MoonPhase": As the name implies, this app tells me what phase the moon should currently be in. Then, when another app (I lied, and snuck in a 3rd app. So sue me. There's an app for that.) called "Planets" confirms that the moon should be visible, I scamper outside and compare phases. Everytime they do not match, I write an angry letter to my congresspersons, urging them to cut NASA's funding.

3) I don't think any golfer should be popular enough to have groupies.

This gives false hope to pseudo-athletes everywhere. Soon: bowlers, curlers, synchronized swimmers, Frisbee-golfers, bocce-ballers and cricket players everywhere will start desiring opposite-sex companionship. And that means increased competition for this Pug, Ben Rothlisberger - and even possibly Black Bart - at every Denny's, porn convention, strip club, Vegas casino and church parking lot.

4) I believe that Facebook and Twitter will ultimately make you boring even if you normally weren't.

My apologies to my readers with Facebook or Twitter accounts. I certainly didn't mean to imply that YOUR Facebook and/or Twitter accounts were boring! In fact, in particular I LOVE keeping tabs on expensive new purchases and when you leave the house. 

However, are those "tweets" about every bowel movement and how much you enjoy vanilla ice cream REALLY necessary? If you're going to tweet, at least use it to report on the neighbors': probable terrorist activities, excessive purchases the I.R.S. would be interested in, swinger parties or crack-dealing.

Ditto for Facebook. And while I'm on the subject of Facebook, WHO THE F**K are these people who comment that they "approve" of a new activity?! For those (in this case: fortunate) cave-dwellers who may be unfamiliar, here is an example (citing a fictional Facebooker named "Doris") of a typical Facebook exchange:

- Doris commented on Suzette's trip to the Piggly Wiggly (grocery store).
- Jerry likes Doris' comment (shows a "thumbs up sign).
- Doris became a fan of Ravi Shankar's Muzak blog.
- Gunther approves.

(... etc., ad nauseum ...)

I just don't get it. Maybe you need friends to get it. However since in my case that isn't an option, perhaps the key is to "adapt" Facebook more to my liking. Here is an example:

- Bob commented on Gunther's Aryan Nation wall.
- Pete likes Bob's comment (shows a "Sieg Heil" sign).
- Puerileuwaite became a fan of Bob's and Pete's respective employers' HR sites.
- Puerileuwaite commented on Bob's and Pete's respective employers' HR sites.
- Bob became a fan of Denver Post's Now Hiring website.
- Pete became a fan of Miami Herald's New Job Opportunities website.
- Black Bart likes living in Bob's recently vacated house.
- Puerileuwaite approves.

5) I want there to be one global conspiracy that systematically eliminates all conspiracy theorists.

I had a lot more to say on this topic, however I was advised by certain unnamed moles in Google / Blogger management to keep it to one carefully worded sentence.