Girls Gone Wild!
America's Dummiest Home Video! I made this last weekend. Actually there are a few in the series but this is the only one small enough to download. I am too lazy to stream it nicely so I am discriminating against people with 56K or slower connections.  My costar saved it with some annoying codec that couldn't be found anywhere finally forcing me to download his computercam software. Then I had to convert it to an AVI that was about three times as puffy. And then I had to convert it to mpeg so you wouldn't be sprouting cobwebs by the time it finished downloading. Suffice to say you're not going to get hdtv quality here. Not exactly flattering either. As Euclid would tell you, angle is everything. Either I was shot at a bad angle or my nose is schnozzily big (Yes I know..."because air is free"). And I also think I look fat. In the second video I said to my friend "Look how fat I look. the camera adds 100 lbs. I really weigh 4 lbs." I'm not really a big fan of the show "Friends", funny in its heydey but overly trendy. But a few days ago I saw a rerun where Monica is playing some old home movie where she's kinda tubby and she says "The camera adds pounds" and Chandler retorts "Well how many cameras are on you!" You should be glad you're going to miss out on Boogie Machine 2001, the video where my costar and I get down to "Connected" by the Stereo MC's. Scary scary stuff. I used to dance along with the Solid Gold dancers. It didn't really help though.

In the video available for your waste of time, my innonence is lost, my trust broken, my naievete exploited. But there are no gratuitious breast shots*. But I've got the "A" half of "T & A" covered, just barely anyway. It's about 14 megs, be virtuously patient. This a limited time offer because I don't want to indefinitely use up 14 megs of web space for proof that I can act like a dingbat.

* I have those for you too. Your satisfaction guaranteed!

These are computercam shots that I've taken over the past couple of weeks. Courtesy of my parents camera, I haven't bothered to hook mine up. Unfortunately the software for this particular camera is buggy and I can't record video or use the timer delay. The latter glitch explains why a couple of these pics are alot too close up. As you will notice I enjoy making dopey sexy faces. We live in a world where a woman making dopey sexy faces goes farther than a woman crossing her eyes, overbiting her teeth and angling her nostrils like a hog. I don't make the rules!






This goofy guy at the gas station keeps offering to buy my car. Why, I have no idea. It’s going on 10 years old. I’m afraid to pop open my trunk for fear that he has stashed a body inside, which would explain his persistence.

It’s a zoo around my apartment. Some carnival a block way. Vertigo rides. I don’t like being on anything that spins. The earth I can’t do anything about but everything else I can help.

Unfortunately for me, I got involved in the middle of Battlefield Earth. And even though I didn’t see it through to it’s culmination, I can safely say it’s so bad it’s good. John Travolta plays a brawny alien who is a complete bumbling idiot. Which might’ve been plausible were it not for the scene where he pronounces how he finished at the top of his class (apparently the educational system on his planet isn’t much better than ours). Here’s a nibble of cheese for you. Our human protagonist is one of the many humans enslaved by this nefarious species of dumb disco inferno extra terrestrials. He’s strapped into this machine that implants knowledge by focusing a direct light of sorts directly into his pupils and presumably his mind. We must assume that the writer of this movie was also strapped into this machine and that somebody hit reverse. So our intellectually enhanced hero is explaining to his peers the side of his effects of his laser eye surgery. He takes a stick, draws a figure and says “This is a triangle. If all the sides are equal, then all the angles are equal.” One guy says, “This seems difficult.” Then another quite rightly asks, “How is this going to help us escape?” I can answer that. You can be trapped in a prison guarded by a mythological sphinx who likes to ask simple riddles about equilateral triangles. That’s not the answer our hero gave. He vaguely beat around the bush, which is what heroes generally do. Incidentally, one of the things that I look to do when I’m holding someone hostage is strap them into a machine that will impart all the information about where I came from, where I’m going to, what my plans are… because it saves me from having to fill them in personally on the details of my operation. Think about how funny this is. They’ve automated a cliché!


I am a repentant disenfranchised Democrat (I won’t tell if you won’t) on the mailing list of the RNC (Fine, I can see what they’re up to!) Wait till you all hear this! I am the chosen one! I am the proud new owner of an autographed George Bush photo. And here’s another shocker- George Bush is Jewish! As far as I can tell, he’s signed his name “Zvi 3” and presumably this is his “real” name. And did you know he had a wife? She’s a deaf mute (so you can see how much the two have in common!)

I can hear Clinton in the background complaining that Hillary never wears vampy red dresses. OK so it looks more like your bubbe’s living room curtain. At least she tries. Bring back Nancy Reagan and let’s spend 2% of the national budget on clothing!

Now wait just a cotton pickin’…What is this “photo number” at the bottom of my prize?
1357865-258254218? George, you whore! I am never talking to you again, which I’m sure will suit you just fine deaf mute! You want cash I want to see some skin. Boxers or briefs Mr. President? I wonder if pandering payoffs will be ok under new campaign finance laws.


Avenging PMS: The SOFTCUP(TM)
There’s an old saying about building a bigger and better mousetrap.
Well this one is definitely bigger if nothing else.
Today I received a sample of this in the mail. The photo on the website is accurately scaled. I put my vibrator inside the softcup and it got lost. I don’t know if I’ll ever find it. I’m not hopeful.
This has to be male engineering. First the corset. Then the high heels.
Now you want me to tape a sign to my underwear “Home of the soup saucer”
Is there no end to these cruelties?!
I can accept that you squeeze this horizontally before inserting it but I haven’t figured out how it’s realigned to cup form in the right place. I sometimes have trouble opening an umbrella. This is beyond me. Even if this was the greatest product in the world, it won’t sell because of what it looks like. No one is going to wait for the detailed explanation, least of all a disturbed woman. Before you reread the instructions and try to understand the female anatomy, this is the set of directions that first come to mind.

1- copulate with porn superstar. Insert softcup immediately afterwards.
2- Give birth. Cut umbilical cord. Remove baby. Insert softcup
3- Swipe speculum from gynecologist’s office. Tie clamp mechanism to door. Lay back. Insert speculum. Slam door. Insert softcup

I love being on the samples mailing list. I have a REALITY(TM) brand “female condom” hanging on my fridge amidst a mess of magnets. The best part about that brain drizzle are the actual directions. It reads like the instructions for tripping on LSD. I quote “Reality only works when you use it…Before you try Reality, be sure to read the directions and learn how to use it properly.” I still contend that the best female condom is a good old-fashioned migraine. To all would-be product designers, please don’t even think about restyling the cork or the zipper for alternative uses. Much obliged.


I have not retrieved my email in weeks. Sowwie :-(
It's going to be difficult to reply to email in October. If it's an emergency, drop me a line at charlottecorday@hotmail.com

Examples of emergency:
a)you owe me money
b)you found my valise full of money
c)you need advice

Examples of what is not an emergency:
a)I owe you money
b)I found your valise full of money
c)you need advice

I am now going to attempt to disassemble my bed and stand up my mattress and boxspring. This exercise will illustrate how un-brawny I am. I don't get it, they make robot dogs but not robot men. Now granted the most important part of a man has been available in robot form for some time but I still need a grunt to do my lifting. My amazing ability to neatly fit a large amount of items in a small amount of space has come back to haunt me. I forgot about maneuvering room, small detail. My mother's big idea for making space is throwing things out. "Mom I keep tripping over the valise full of money." "Chuck it."

OK, I’m not sure if it was the 96 parade the 98 parade or the 99 parade. It can get confusing when you’re a dynasty! You have to admire Red Sox fans, they know where they are at all times... which is nowhere! Yaaaay, Seattle lost, my plan is working! Tonight we are going to whip the Oakland B’s! We have to because I have bets. I still love you Pete Rose!

The Yankees will win this series when we find an appropriate physical therapist and the right mixture of hot scented oils!
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Deb-auchee"
> To: "boomer"
> Sent: Thursday, October 11, 2001 3:57 AM
> Subject: dont just sit there!
> > why dont you do something and volunteer to massage the rockets
> hamstring?
I'm being punished for not sleeping. Has anyone seen the late nite show “Street Smarts”? It has to be rehearsed. Except for your coworkers, people are just not this stupid.  This is the format of the show.
Announcer: “What is two plus two?”
Janice Robinson, mental health worker and former patient: “It’s 22. No one ever trips me up with these trick questions! Hey, are you stalking me?”
Lela Blair, ballerina: “Why it’s a tutu!” * pirouettes for camera *
Bryan Murphy, ‘handi-capable’ mongoloid: “It’s 4. Incidentally, 2 X 2 is also four. As is 2 squared. Tut tut harrumph harrumph!”
Announcer: “Bryan you are a veritable wiz kid! I’d ask you about the square root of two but this is only a half hour show. Hahaha, I kill me. Let’s see if our contestants knew who would answer this question correctly.”
Contestant #1: “I guessed Janice. She’s wearing glasses and all. I was fooled.”
Contestant #2: “Two plus two is four? What the F***? Since when?”
Announcer: “Looks like someone is demanding a recount. We’re in California not Florida. Hahaha, I kill me.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! (that’s me screaming not rooting for Oakland)
Missing: Yankee offense
Reward for return: $25,000 (ah, that’s bubkes in baseball)
Some awful people have been seizing the opportunity to mock the winningest sports franchise. The amazing thing is that I don’t know a single Oakland fan. I’m catching slack from loserville. Met fans. Bosox fans. Teams that don’t even register on the EKG.
Pardon my foul mouth but as Clemens and Piazza would attest, there’s no polite in baseball.  I repeat, YANKEES 2001! (oh you know it!) And if by some chance the Yankees don’t win this year, there’s always next year. Not the same way there’s always next year for a Bosox hopeful. Let me tell you something Red Sox fans. You couldn’t make Boston win in your own acid trip. Accept reality. Yankees 2001! (Ok so I enjoy a good delusion just as much as the next person)

            Re: (no subject)
            Fri, 12 Oct 2001 09:45:23 -0700

> --- Deb-auchee wrote:
> > > piazzas the only one on your team worth blowing
> > >
> > > Tony wrote:
> > >
> > > > Uh . . . . . yes!
> > > > --- Deb-auchee wrote:
> > > > > eat me!
> > > > >
> > > > > Tony wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > > YANKEES 2001! (oh you know it!)
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Uh . . . . no.
> > > > > >
Alternate Theory:

Deb-auchee wrote:
> why didnt i think of that? al qaeda. a's. it's all a's.

Tony wrote:

> The terrorist are responsible for the Yankees poor
> playing.

Didn’t I tell you all Jeter was more than a cute face and tight ass? Maybe I never said that. Because you know, a cute face and tight ass are very distracting things but yes, Jeter is more than that. Did you see that play? He’s doing other peoples jobs. He’s like Dick Cheney.

That's it for the "coming soon" wormhole hyperlink on page 10.
I now need a new "newish."  Once upon a time I had a funky mobile hanging over my bed. One day my mom tells me she accidentally tangled it up. "I can fix it," I insisted (think totaled automobile scene from “Fast Times At Ridgemont High,” & Jeff Spicoli's overly optimistic surfer-dude accented "I can fix it")
I'm pretty good at unraveling and untying (I just bet you are you little minx!) but I don't think I've ever come across anything quite as knotted as this mobile was, and that includes the circulation-averse idiots who sextuple tie their shoelaces. The strings on the mobile were very fine. This is 100% true- In the midst of my frustration at failing to untie and untangle, I turned to my mother and said "y’know mom, it's almost like someone spun this" and she replied "Oh well, it was originally a small knot and I thought I could get it out by spinning it." "Good thinking mom. No, the scissors aren't going to help. And please put away the butter…"  My webpage design reminds me of that tangled mobile. And I'm the one who keeps spinning it.
I’m not sure where I’ll be posting new stuff but page 10 material I meant to post a week ago but never got around to. I would like to add that I try to answer email as quickly and as best as I can. I wish personal emailing were a vocation (it’s really only fun when you’re neglecting your vocation). Email didn’t much impress me when I first tried it. When I visited the school computer center and a friendly foxy guy showed me how to use Pine, then I was sold! I remember his name was David and we emailed for a while. I also remember him telling me to stop by and me not stopping by because I didn’t feel like walking all the way over to his dorm. It was a good half mile hike! If evolution is so sly how come we don’t have wheels on our feet? No I can’t roller blade. But if they were attached to our feet, I’d have to learn wouldn’t I! Remember the roller skating fad of the eighties? Roller boogie birthday parties.  I couldn’t skate at all but I had a blast. Because I never fell alone. Anyone wearing a baggy shirt was in grave danger around me. There was this guy in college who roller bladed everywhere. He was practically a legend and also the butt of jokes. Never spotted this person without his roller blades. I’m in a local bagel place one day and I end up sitting with roller blade boy.  Cool individual, alot of backbone. He spent the greater part of the meal telling me about all the times he evaded getting his ass kicked by frat guys. And then he roller bladed off into the sunset before I could kick his ass.
Enough yarn and tangled mobile spinning…here is the muddle I meant to post earlier.

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