Funny Strange is Lori Culwell's blog

Throwing Stuff Away, or: my anti-Hoarders plan

I don’t really make New Year’s resolutions anymore, mostly because I try to always do the best that I can with myself during the year, and also because if I make resolutions or set huge goals it actually has a negative effect, because I am really hard on myself if they don’t end up turning out the way I planned.  I can give myself “suggestions,” though, and this year the “suggestion” is:  THROW AWAY HALF OF YOUR STUFF.

 I think this one came about from watching that show Hoarders over Christmas break.  Um….wow.  I have to say, I started watching that show thinking it was going to be some kind of quirky foray into people who, like, had a collection of 100,000 weird Mickey Mouse clocks or something like that.  But—noooo, that’s not what it going on in Hoarders at all.  In fact, there is barely any opportunity for prurient interest, as you spend most of the time watching it while hiding your face behind your hands, like “oh, oh NO—that’s just GARBAGE!  Why is there a GOAT EATING YOUR HOUSE?”  So, really this is not a quirky show at all—just a series of sad stories of mentally ill people who are living in filthy conditions and who need the kind of help that goes far beyond a mere housecleaning.  I don’t predict this show is going to take off, because unlike Intervention, there is no way to even “get on your high horse about how they should pull themselves together.”  Nope, they’re just nuts, and most of the houses would be better off burned to the ground because of the unfortunate and squalid conditions these poor people have let develop.   This photo, for instance, makes me want to throw out everything I own and wash myself in hand sanitizer.  How about you?

Back to my New Year’s “suggestion,” though.  Watching Hoarders made me realize that we just have way too much stuff, so I decided to go through absolutely everything and either use it, give it away, or trash it.  No mercy!   Let’s call this “Hoarders Insurance.”  So far it’s going well.  I have thrown out/ shredded a ton of old files, donated a bunch of books, and given some stuff away on Facebook.  Stay tuned for free stuff!

Bad Hair, Cabo Cantina Style

Over the weekend Stephan and I decided that we hadn't seen enough complete weirdos during the week, so we took a trip down to the Santa Monica Promenade, where every meal is served with a side of freaks.  We're used to living in San Francisco and New York, you see, so sometimes we haven't had our quota and we start jonsing for people with super-long fingernails talking to themselves about Canada, or people roller skating for no reason.  

Maybe it's because we intended so go out and see something odd, but we didn't even make it off our street before we saw a guy with a ponytail so wrong, we had to stake him out private detective style to try to get a photo that accurately depicted how stupid he looked.

You see, Stephan (in case you don't know) is LOSING HIS HAIR and has been for some time.  Actually, it seems to me like he's done losing it, that it's in a male pattern baldness holding pattern (so to speak), and he's not bald-- just hair challenged.  Besides, Stephan (in case you don't know) looks GOOD, hair or no, whether he shaves his head or not.  He even has a cortisone-withdrawal rash on his face right now, and he is even making that look good.  So, there you go.  I'm saying, he looks better than alot of guys who have all of their hair, so he doesn't need to sweat it.

However, Stephan has a thing about guys who have hair and make bad choices with it.   He's angry about it, and it makes him want to hit.   Seeing bad hair like this sends him into a seethe, where he shakes his head alot and says "That f#$cker-- has hair, does THAT with it.....did that on PURPOSE to his hair, and is now going to Cabo Cantina to see if it will get him LAID.....so wrong...."

After the bad hair stake-out, we ventured down to Big Dean's for some burgers, where we were treated to a guy talking REALLY LOUD ABOUT CLAM CHOWDER, then to Mr. Marcel's for dessert, where we saw a dude in full Renaissance garb (who I do not believe was in a play or on the way to Ren Faire) talking on an iPhone.  By that time my phone's battery was already dead from all the photos I took on the Hair Stakeout, but I'll just let you use your imagination.  We also saw a woman running like a Muppet (who wasn't me), and a young kid who was totally shredding the electric guitar but who was probably 13, so it sounded so weird for him to be singing lyrics that clearly belied his lack of life experience.  I think at one point we were like "Why is he singing 'Sweet Child O'Mine?" 

Oh!  Speaking of bad hair, I must bring this website to your attention and give special thanks to Lisa for telling me about it.  Because darn IT, that is some bad hair and some funny commentary.  Enjoy!

He Came to Play

So, first I will take care of business:  my Los Angeles Book signing for Hollywood Car Wash is coming up this week:

Hollywood Car Wash book signing
Wednesday, June 10th
Book Soup
West Hollywood
Be there!

The L.A. Times and L.A. Weekly both listed this, which is frankly just awesome and I thought I'd mention it.  Do you think I don't have a Google Alert on myself?  Well, you think wrong.  I do have one.  I have to know what people are saying, man!  What's also funny is that now this is going to show up in my Lori Culwell Google Alert for tomorrow. 

So, I had a whole post all ready to go about how I'm sick and tired of how everything is bad for you these days, including the air you breathe and the water you drink, but then Stephan came home from the gym with a story that is just begging to be shared, so I'm going to go with that one and post that other one tomorrow. 

 

Now, first of all let me say this:  Stephan Cox is 40 years old, and he's probably in better shape than most 20 year old dudes.  I'm not even saying that to brag, it's just a fact-- Stephan THROWS DOWN when it comes to the gym.  He puts in his time, and he's totally in the shape to show it.   I defy you to put him in some kind of fitness contest against younger guys.  He is also a deceptively fast runner, and he's been running for 20 years, so again-- you're going to be hard-pressed to beat him in a race.

 

Which brings me to the L.A. Sports Club, where Stephan works out (no joke) every single day.  On this day in particular, I guess a twenty-something got on the treadmill next to him and thought he would just go ahead and turn the treadmill speed up to 8.5 mph, because hey, if the buff salt-and-pepper hair guy can do it, why can't he?  He's young and spry and goes to the fitness club several times per week!   

 

Oh, did I mention that Stephan Cox has his treadmill set at 9.5 mph, and he is making it look easy?   Yeah, I'm sure you can tell this story is not going to end well for the cocky young guy.

 

So-- a couple of minutes goes by, Cocky Young Guy is barely making the 8.5, is gasping for air, and is eyeing Stephan's treadmill, like, "Hey man-- I'm totally going to outrun you." 

 

Only he's not, because after another minute or so, he's so winded (and apparently light-headed) trying to keep up that he slows his treadmill speed down to 4.5, and he's coughing and spluttering and gasping for air, and the people around him are looking at him to see if he's ok, which embarasses him even more.

 

(Meanwhile, cut back to Stephan Cox, Super Gym Guy, who is STILL running his 9.5 mph, like "Dude, you're going to hurt yourself over there."    He's like, asking the guy if he's ok while he's still running faster than him.)

 

So, Cocky Young Guy is embarrassed more, and he speeds back up to 8.5, which is his big mistake.  Because, the next thing that happens?

 

He throws up.  In his towel.  At the gym.  In front of Super Gym Guy and everyone else, and then has to run off to the bathroom to remove his balls because he has lost them in the Great Gym Throwdown of 2009.   Oh, and also?  He runs off so fast to puke that he leaves the treadmill at 8.5 mph, and the next guy that gets on doesn't know this, so he tries to get on and is comically, cartoonishly thrown off, like in a Wile. E. Coyote type situation where he is SHOT OUT THE BACK OF THE TREADMILL like a bullet.   When Super Gym Guy stopped running to help that guy up, all he had to say was "Nothing is hurt but my pride."

 

So--- how was your Monday?

Letting my Muppet freak flag fly...

If you've known me in person for any period of time, you are probably aware of the fact that I am no great athlete.  It's fine with me, I'm healthy and in good shape and walk four miles a day and can do alot of push ups, but dude-- I cannot hit a ball, or catch a ball, or run fast, or any of those things that you might associate with being "sporting."   It's no big deal to me-- there are other things I'm good at, so I don't worry too much about not being athletically inclined.  In fact, now I make a joke out of the fact that I'm not super coordinated, and I have spindly arms like a Muppet, and sometimes I fall off the curb while I am walking.  I'm sure you can see where this is going.  Or maybe you can't.

 

Over the years I have grown to further embrace my inner Muppet, and so, if I have to run somewhere (and really, how often does this happen in one's adult life?), I've decided it's probably ok if I just go ahead and flail my arms out like they are naturally inclined to go.   It also seems like my head wants to just naturally bounce up and down, so I just let it.   The cumulative effect of this is pretty strange-looking, but what do I care?  Like I said, you don't have to run that much in your adult life, and also, life is too short.  Run like a Muppet if you want to.  Except maybe....if you have to run somewhere in the middle of a business meeting.

 

Yep.  I did it.   I was like "just let me run out for something," and I guess the running was a little too crazy, because when I got back to the conference room and tried to start the meeting up again, my co-workers were like "Wait....is that how you really run?" 

So now it's happened.  I've gotten into the habit of running like a Muppet, and I did it in a professional context.  I hope this endeared me to the people I was meeting with, but I'm not sure.

Maximizing the synergy of the situation

All week long I've been in a "cloud of poop," Tom Waits-listening kind of mood, where pipes are bursting, and people are not showing up or answering their voicemails, and I am melting down in the parking garage.    You're all "gosh, that sounds so entertaining, why didn't you tell us more about this?"  

I think this mood has something to do with the fact that Stephan caught a cold from a guy named Dave, then I caught the next generation of that cold but was trying to deny I had it, so instead I was just "crabby with a stuffed-up nose....thanks DAVE" instead of officially sick.  So, if you called me this week, or I called you, or you happened to ask me a question and I yelled at you or told you I was going to go all broken arrow and live out in the open range somewhere where there are no people to bug me, I am sorry.  You'll be glad to know that the cold is almost gone, and I am probably going to blame the bad mood and the bad week ALL on the cold virus.

But, something funny actually happened yesterday!  Yesterday my cousin-in-law Cory and I got on a long email thread where we were each trying to sound more "business speak-y" than the other.  It doesn't really matter what we were talking about, because after awhile it became so baroque it wasn't actually ABOUT anything.  Here's an excerpt, because I thought it might make you laugh.

Me:  "There is totally enterprise buy-in behind that idea."

Cory: "It's been fully socialized and waterfalled, it's gaining traction, and we've accounted for the outliers."

Me:  "Oh yeah, we focused grouped it, reaped the low hanging fruit, and it dovetails well with our other partnerships."

Cory:  "As long as we eat our own dog food and keep our kimono open, we should end up with a win-win."

Also, not for nothing-- why have there been TWO Friday the 13th's already this year?  Isn't that one of the signs of the apocalypse? 

You should go and read this now....

Every once in awhile I read something so funny, it makes me totally jealous, like I wish I wrote it.  So today, I will abdicate the throne of funny to someone else. 

Now is one of those times.  You must, right now, go over to Best of Craig's List and read this post, which is entitled "The loudest vacuum ever on the face of the planet."   Yes, it is a little wordy, but it's just so worth it.

That is how loud the vacuum is, people. 

A long post, because I'm out of town....

I'm traveling for business and won't be posting again until Wednesday, but I thought I'd leave you with something substantial to chew on while I was away.  Enjoy!

I can't believe I haven't mentioned this before, since it's so, so funny.   You might share this sentiment if you live in Los Angeles or a similar overcrowded urban area, but Stephan and I are eternally on the lookout for a cool, low-key place to go on weekends to escape city life.   We really like going to Carmel, but it's about 5 hours away, so that's kind of a hike if you're only going to stay for the weekend.   Last year we checked out Big Bear and kept trying to find a vacation rental in Ojai/ Santa Barbara that would take our dog, but kept coming up empty.  Anyhow, at the tail end of the Christmas holiday we went to go check out Pine Mountain Club, which is this cool little mountain community that's right up off the 5 freeway.  Like, literally, you go to the middle of the Grapevine from L.A. and turn left, drive up the mountain, and there you are.  Pretty cool, and they get snow!  The one problem I had with this location was that the houses were WAY too close together for my taste, like, Big Bear cabin style, where you can see into your next door neighbor's house and everything.   This probably wouldn't be a big deal for some of you, but hear this, man-- if I am going away for the weekend, I better not be able to see what ANYONE ELSE IS DOING.  I don't want to see anyone, hear their music, smell what they're cooking, I MEAN ANYTHING. 

I know, it sounds weird.  Have we not talked at length about my OCD?  It's a real problem, man.  Look it up in the DSM.   You better just be thankful that I got past my irrational fear of spoiled food, because that doesn't produce nearly as much funny material.  Did I mention that when I was 14 I could only eat food that came out of packages?  Yeah, good times.  It's a good thing I'm past that one, because this salmonella outbreak in peanut butter thing would seriously have been enough to push me over the edge about 15 years ago.   We'll get back to OCD at a later date. 

Getting back to the point--  while we're in Pine Mountain Club we happen to go into one of the realty offices, just to see what might be available there.  As it turns out, since this community is on the fringes of L.A., it's unfortunately being hit very hard by the recession, and so they have alot of foreclosures/ short sales/ reduced price properties up there, which would have been great if, like I said, the houses weren't so close together.  Because I was curious, I asked the realtor for a list of properties, and she gave me a printed-out MLS listing sheet that had all the prices and descriptions.  If you're still reading this, you're about to get to the best part of the story, because RIGHT below the printed sheet was this Microsoft Word-looking document that was stapled together, and the realtor may or may not have meant to give it to me.  On this Word-looking document was a series of EXTREMELY honest notes about the property listings.  Maybe too honest, if you know what I mean.

And now, I will re-type the notes, for your amusement.  I am leaving off the addresses, of course, because a)  these were just notes, and are probably confidential, and b) I doubt you're going to go looking for property to buy in Pine Mountain Club anyway, so it doesn't really matter.  For the record, though, Pine Mountain Club is a nice place.

But, here's where it gets really funny.  Here were my top 10 favorite "side note" comments from the list.

1.  "Serious fixer"

2:  "Close to highway, smells like smoke, needs work."

3:  "Lots and lots of paneling"

4:  "Bathrooms gutted, kitchen doesn't have a window, registered sex offender on street."

5:  "Pretty cool, unpermitted street downstairs, views"

 6:  "Not a short sale, but cheap"

7:  "Bit of a fixer, not very nice."

8.  "Not bad."

9.  "No curb appeal, but pretty nice inside."

10.  "Once was gorgeous."

This made me wish that all real estate agents would be this honest about listings.  In fact, this makes me want to start a fake real estate blog, just as a joke, where all the properties are described as "not that nice," and "really small" instead of "charming" and "cozy."  Ha!

Several things....

  --Remember when I said that if you got a camera-phone, and then you came across something really funny, you should totally send it to me?  Well, my friend K. in Texas did just that.   Um....Coffee and Cappuchin?  I'm not even sure if the "o" is actually missing from this sign, so they might just be selling coffee and monks in there, all for the bargain price of 99 cents.  Such a deal!

Here's another good one, sent in by Rachel.   I'm totally sending this to FailBlog.

-- I said I'd post if I got any funny new entries for the "That Was the Name of My Band in Junior College" game, and yesterday someone sent in "Fat Guy at a Lesbian College," which made me laugh out loud for several minutes in a row.  Hi-larious.

--Speaking of FailBlog, do you know about it?  Sometimes I like to alert you to the existence of other websites, because that is my public service to you.  I can't stop going there.  Hey, it's Friday.  Maybe you should go over to I Can Haz Cheezburger too.  Those cat captions are pretty darn funny, especially on a Friday.  Look especially for the adventures of stalker kitteh.

Can this really be true?

I saw this ad a couple of weeks ago, and I thought it was so amazing that I had to cut it out, scan it, and put it up for your viewing pleasure.  Because, I don't know if you're with me on this, but I totally didn't even know that Medieval Times was still open.

Just....wow.  For one thing, do you think the people in this ad really work for Medieval Times, or are they just print photography models who got called in for an "awesome stock photography" job by their respective agents, then couldn't say no once they got there for fear of not getting booked again?   Are they REAL Medieval Times enthusiasts, these people?  All of them look sort of happy, but also like they could burst into laughter at any time, especially the girl on the right.   I also really like the fact that they've listed "Baltimore/ Washington D.C." as one of their locations, even though these two places are pretty far away from each other.  You know the Baltimore-adjacent place where they do Medieval Times is probably in a terrifying neighborhood, because-- can you imagine a big Medieval Times lot in Georgetown, or K Street?  I think not.

Also, this makes me think that some clever advertising/ statistics/ marketing people were involved in this campaign.  They can't call themselves the "# 1 restaurant in North America," because that would clearly not be true.  But, if they just move the line a little bit and call Medieval Times the "# 1 Dinner Attraction in North America," then they're declaring themselves the leaders of a field so narrow, they might have actually made it up.    This, to me, is kind of like those guys who buy a parcel of land out in Montana and declare themself the "president of the United States....of Dave," or, as Stephan once said when we were driving somewhere in the Mojave desert, "oh look-- there's a small compound probably known as Bob-alonia."  Like, you're only # 1 because there's no one else in your category, you know what I'm saying?

Medieval Times has always baffled me as a concept, although I suppose it's a nice place to go if you have alot of loud, unruly, messy children who like watching people fake joust while they are eating giant turkey legs.   Frankly, the whole thing just sounds unsanitary to me.  How are they allowed to serve food when they have horses and horse poop in such close proximity?  I'm not even allowed to tie up my dog in the outside part of the Coffee Bean in Santa Monica without them running out and telling me that I'm "risking their Grade A health department rating."  Or, maybe Medieval Times isn't subject to the health department inspection because they operate in a time before health codes....a mystical, magical time of jousting and maidens and big turkey legs in close proximity to horse poop.  And also, a complete lack of irony.  So there.

Stephan would like you to know several things.

As you might be aware, today is my birthday, and so I have pre-written this blog post, just so I can fulfill my "International Day of Me" mandate and take the day off.  So, right now, when you are reading this, I am probably getting a manicure.   Of course, that shouldn't stop you from leaving some "Happy Birthday" messages for me in the comments, which I will be reading tomorrow.  Oh yeah.

Stephan doesn't want to be my guest blogger this week because he has his own work to do (imagine that!), but he has been cracking me up more than usual lately with his wittiness, so I thought I'd write up a few funny conversations from the past week or so and share them with you.
 
Last week I got ten free Soyjoy bars at RiteAid (you can read about how I am all clever like this on my other blog, of course), and I left them in the cabinet with the rest of the protein bars, granola bars, and other healthy things that we're supposed to eat instead of the giant box of Moose Munch [Stephan adds: OMFG! Moose Munch! A substance made by the very god Odin himself!] that we still have on the kitchen counter from Christmas. I'll let you guess which one I've been paying more attention to.  
 
Anyhow, Thursday night I was at a graphic design class at UCLA (because I am trying to expand my mind, somewhat successfully) when I got an email from Stephan, which read:
 
From:  Stephan Cox
Re:  Soy Sadness
 
So I made dinner, and I pulled a strawberry Soy Joy bar out in advance for dessert. Never tried one and was relatively excited about it. I finish my dinner, tear into the package, take a bite and OH MY GOD SO DRY. I couldn't make saliva for like three minutes. It tastes like vaguely fruit-flavored spackle. The cartoon woman in Soy Joy's ads is obviously happily jumping rope because she's EATING SOMETHING ELSE OTHER THAN A SOY JOY BAR.

Jesus.

s
 
 
Mind you, I'm reading this while in class, where I'm a) probably supposed to be learning about design theory and not reading my email, and b) trying not to burst out laughing at the concept of Stephan being felled by a Soyjoy bar. [Stephan adds: not felled; I spit it into the garbage under the sink. Where it will never biodegrade, because it contains no moisture]
 
When I got home, he was still all incensed and dry-mouthed and I was still laughing, and he said that he ALSO wanted me to know that Ben & Jerry's came out with a new flavor in honor of the Obama victory, and it's called (wait for it) "Yes….PeCan."
 
That's right.  "Yes….PeCan."  I'm going to keep saying it so it gets right in your brain like a worm and starts working its magic.  Never mind the fact that it's pronounced "PE-CAWN."
 
That's not even the best part, though.  The reason he was annoyed by this was not because it was a bad flavor name [Stephan: even though it decidedly is], but because, years ago, he submitted "ParlaMINT CHUNKadelic" as a proposed flavor, which I have to agree is much better than "Yes….Pecan," and they didn't use his idea.  
 
PalaMINT CHUNCKadelic is pretty funny, don't you think? He even had a whole concept about using rainbow candy pieces to represent George Clinton's multi-colored braids, and having a promotional tie-in.
 
Oh world, why don't you take our good idea? [Stephan: we’re clearly ahead of our time. Note to people of the future: enjoy our many fine Lori & Stephan statues and mausoleums]
 
By the way, when I got home I tried the SoyJoy bar, and I actually liked it.  I don't know if this means I have weird tastebuds from too much Zicaming, or perhaps an abnormally large amount of saliva to compensate for the dryness. All I know is, I will be eating the rest of them. [Stephan: Bon Apetit, baby]