I'm Spirited! I'm Strong! I Have A Chainsaw!
Woo hoo! I got seventeen cards in the mail today! A colorful assortment of cheery holiday cards, get well cards, why the hell don't you ever answer your damn phone cards, all kinds of good stuff. I was tickled half to death.
So one of these cards has a chip inside, you know the kind that plays a tune when you open it. This one says "You're Spirited... You're Strong..." on the front, and when you open it, it says "You're A Survivor!" and plays the first three lines of Gloria Gaynor singing "I Will Survive" over and over again. I had fun opening it and closing it, making her sing, making her shut up. This was almost a little more excitement that I can stand these days though and after two or three rounds I was absolutely exhausted. Great card.
But I'm afraid I may have done something to sort of break the damn thing, because the last time I closed it, it wouldn't stop singing. I shook it, I banged it a few times, I even stepped on it. It kept on warbling. Finally I just tossed it on the kitchen table and left it lying there belting its giddy, vengeful, repetitive little heart out. I fixed myself some cheese and crackers and cranberry juice, and took them in another room on the far side of the house to watch an episode from my new box set of of Grey's Anatomy DVDs and forget about it.
By the way, this Grey's Anatomy stuff is pure 100% uncut heroin. I suspect my own children may be trying to destroy my brain, sending me these acutely addictive medical soap operas. It was that really hair-raising episode where the entire hospital goes on a Code Black alert because some guy has an unexploded explosive device wedged in his bowel. Speaking of which, I kind of feel like I might have one in mine too, but do you ever see my doctor heroically calling in the bomb squad? Anyway I actually had to watch three episodes to see how the situation turned out.
And when I came back? Yes. The damn card was still singing.
I mean, what's the deal? Is there a battery? Is there a shelf life, a statute of limitations? Will it ever stop? How many times would I have to run over it with my car to make it stop?
And if it does stop, what does that mean? That I will not survive? Will I die the minute it stops, is it like some foreboding omen out of the Twilight Zone? But which is worse, not surviving or having to listen to Gloria Gaynor chirp on and on about how I WILL survive for all eternity? Hmmm, tough call.
Excuse me now, I'm going to go try to drown it in the kitchen sink.
The Absolute Best Christmas Card of the Day Award goes to Kitty for this one.
So one of these cards has a chip inside, you know the kind that plays a tune when you open it. This one says "You're Spirited... You're Strong..." on the front, and when you open it, it says "You're A Survivor!" and plays the first three lines of Gloria Gaynor singing "I Will Survive" over and over again. I had fun opening it and closing it, making her sing, making her shut up. This was almost a little more excitement that I can stand these days though and after two or three rounds I was absolutely exhausted. Great card.
But I'm afraid I may have done something to sort of break the damn thing, because the last time I closed it, it wouldn't stop singing. I shook it, I banged it a few times, I even stepped on it. It kept on warbling. Finally I just tossed it on the kitchen table and left it lying there belting its giddy, vengeful, repetitive little heart out. I fixed myself some cheese and crackers and cranberry juice, and took them in another room on the far side of the house to watch an episode from my new box set of of Grey's Anatomy DVDs and forget about it.
By the way, this Grey's Anatomy stuff is pure 100% uncut heroin. I suspect my own children may be trying to destroy my brain, sending me these acutely addictive medical soap operas. It was that really hair-raising episode where the entire hospital goes on a Code Black alert because some guy has an unexploded explosive device wedged in his bowel. Speaking of which, I kind of feel like I might have one in mine too, but do you ever see my doctor heroically calling in the bomb squad? Anyway I actually had to watch three episodes to see how the situation turned out.
And when I came back? Yes. The damn card was still singing.
I mean, what's the deal? Is there a battery? Is there a shelf life, a statute of limitations? Will it ever stop? How many times would I have to run over it with my car to make it stop?
And if it does stop, what does that mean? That I will not survive? Will I die the minute it stops, is it like some foreboding omen out of the Twilight Zone? But which is worse, not surviving or having to listen to Gloria Gaynor chirp on and on about how I WILL survive for all eternity? Hmmm, tough call.
Excuse me now, I'm going to go try to drown it in the kitchen sink.
The Absolute Best Christmas Card of the Day Award goes to Kitty for this one.
posted by Lymphopo at Thursday, December 21, 2006
6 Comments:
I AM SO LAUGHING RIGHT NOW! Did the water from the sink short out the circuit? Did it shut the F up? :-)
Must know!
And love that card. Best card ever.
I love Kitty's card.
I would send a mail bomb to anyone who sent me a card that made noise. One that made noise and wouldn't shut up I would simply return to the sender.
I guess I have a thing or two to learn about graciousness. Yours is impressive.
And Grey's Anatomy is indeed heroin, or crack. It doesn't even suspend my disbelief anymore, yet I'm still watching it religiously, and woe to he who interrupts for even so much as a kiss on the nose. What the hell?
Ack, that card! If I had been drinking a beverage I would have spewed it out of my nose...
This made me laugh so hard, and suddenly, that all of my co-workers turned and looked at me in that concerned sort of way.
Oh yeah, the music making cards. Sometimes they go off while they are in the mail. (In case you've ever wondered what going postal is really about.)
Post a Comment
<< Home