Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Asparagus, A Funny Vegetable

There's just something funny about asparagus. It's one of our funnier vegetables, don't you agree? Go ahead, say, "Asparagus!" Say it at the top of your lungs. Don't pretend it's not funny. It just is. Asparagus has always been a source of hilarity in the SJG homestead. Why? I'll tell you why. My all-time favorite comic, may he rest in peace, was Steve Landesberg of "Barney Miller" fame and so much more. When the eldest was in preschool, Steve Landesberg was a parent there, as well.

"Honesty is the best policy, but 
insanity is a better defense."

During a carnival, I was working the soda booth and when he came up to get a drink, I gushed, "I love you. Can I do my favorite routine of yours?" He smiled and said, "Sure. Give it a try."  So I did. "You wanna know why the suicide rate is so high in Sweden?  The husband comes home from work and says, 'What's for dinner, snookums?  Asparagus? Again?' " Then I pointed my finger at my head and made the sound of a gun going off.  Ka-boom.  Steve Landesberg laughed at my feeble attempt to recreate his brilliance. "Not bad, but it's, 'Asparagus?  Not again.' " To this day, every time hubby and I eat asparagus, we do his routine. Seriously. Every time. So the other day, when the eldest requested some info, I texted back, "I'll get it to you ASPA." As opposed to ASAP. Well, the Gods of spellcheck didn't like my ASPA and changed it to, what else, asparagus. As in, "I'll get it to you, asparagus."

Silly, silly asparagus

"Hahahaha," the eldest said, followed by laughing emoji faces. Like I said, even in a text, and even as a typo, asparagus is still the funniest of vegetables.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Hurtful Met Gala Snub

I would've looked so good in this outfit.

Dear Met Gala,
I'm hurt. So hurt. Do you have any idea how hurt I am? I'm about to tell you. I asked you people to wait for me. Just wait a few weeks. I told you I'd be in New York in two weeks. I told you I could attend the Met Gala, as God intended. But did you wait for me, Fashion Icon of Sherman Oaks? No, you did not. You went ahead without me. The fact that you never even sent an invite to Fashion's Biggest Night hurts even more. What does an International Blogging Sensation such as myself have to do to get your attention? I demand to know what up with the epic snub? The only way to make it up to me is to re-stage the whole shebang in two weeks. You heard me. I want a Do-Over. Just get the whole Manus vs Machina gang back together. How hard would it be? Get busy, Met People.
Awaiting your reply,

I could've been a high fashion/heavy metal robot server, too.

Dear SJG,
We received your application to serve hors d'oeuvres at the Met Gala, but have been too busy to respond until now. We had a big party last night and we're really tired. The reason we didn't bother to answer your ridiculous request in the months leading up to our event may have something to do with your "resumski," as you called it. As far as we could tell, you have zero experience serving hors d'oeuvres to famous people. In fact, you've never catered to famous people in any professional, or unprofessional capacity. A robot would've done 18 times better than you. We told you last year and now we'll tell you again. Please don't contact us again.
Met Gala

Monday, May 2, 2016

Coming Up Next

Between the Nightingales mating... no, not the new neighbors, silly...

... And the dumb-ass alarm going off on my dumb-ass ancient Sharper Image radio... let's just say hubby and the SJG didn't have the best night's sleep. But we did discuss some important issues. 

"Honey, you're in TV."
"That's what they tell me."
"In the 'coming up next,' why do they say something's a hit show when it isn't?"
"Because they can get away with it."
"Even if it isn't a hit show?"
"Does that get more people to watch it?"
"No one knows."
"You know what I'd like to hear instead?"
"Coming up next, a show no one's watching."
"Coming up next, a show that's a hit because we say it's a hit."
"Coming up next, a show that's a big bomb."
"Coming up next, a show everybody hates."
"These are good. You should share them with the big machers at the network."
"Coming up next, TV exec escorted off premises."
"On second thought, never mind."

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Are You Sitting Down?

Are you sitting down?  I am.  Maybe you are, too.  Chances are good that you are not pole vaulting, ziplining, high diving, rappelling, pirouetting, juggling or jitter-bugging while reading this, the only blog you need to get your day started, properly.  And yet, people on the phone keep asking: "Are you sitting down?" People, people, people. Stop asking this. Every time the asker asks this, he/she is setting up the askee for a big letdown.  It is the SJG's personal experience that the news that follows is never that exciting, except in the delusional mind of the asker. Why should I sit for a letdown?  I'd rather pace back and forth and curse you under my breath for bothering me.  When someone asks, "Are you sitting down?" all I can say is, "No, I'm doing the laundry.  What else would I be doing?"  Or, "No, I'm putting the groceries away." Then the asker is obligated to say, "Sit down." Great. Now I'm thinking it's not going to be the letdown I'm expecting, but something awful and altogether tragic:  "The mail man just tripped on your sprinkler head and plotzed on your fancy, paved driveway. You're being sued by the U.S. Postal Service for 88 million dollars." So please, you askers out there.  Stop asking, "Are you sitting down?"  How about cutting to the chase, instead:  "Do you have some time to talk?  I heard about something you might be interested in."  Or, "I've got some upsetting news.  A meteor is about to fall on your house.  It was nice knowing you."

Saturday, April 30, 2016

The Cloak of Wisdom Costs Extra

Every now and then, more then than now, someone stops me on the street and asks me something pithy. Why this happens, I cannot tell you. Maybe I just look like someone with all the answers. Maybe it's that cloak of wisdom I bought on eBay. The other day, I was standing on the corner of Ventura and Kreplach, minding my own business, as opposed to the universe's, when a dapper-looking fellow turned to me. "Excuse me, but are you the Short Jewish Gal?" "I am. What's it to ya?" "It's an honor to meet you." "I know, right?" "There's something I've always wanted to ask you." "I'm listening." "What is the guiding principle of your life?" "I always wait for the light to change."

Friday, April 29, 2016

On The Street Where You Live

Dear SJG,
I am writing to you on behalf of the Little Bit Shady Homeowner's Association. On a recent stroll, I noticed you have unauthorized signage on your roof, declaring, "Home of the SJG.  Enter at your own risk, bitches." Per our governing documents, "No sign or flag of any kind shall be displayed in public view without written consent of the Board." Your signage doesn't have Board approval and will need to be removed, immediately. Feel free to contact me, but it won't do you any good. That sign is coming down. Today.
Sam Schmohawk

Dear Schmohawk,
Without the sign, how will I know if I'm on the street where I live?

Thursday, April 28, 2016

And Now This

At 8:30 last night, the SJG made the following announcement:
"I am now going to do a very brave and courageous thing."
"What?" hubby asked.
"I'm going to turn off my phone."
"Why?" hubby asked.
"Because I get way too involved in nothing."