I will post the most recent tidbits here. Stop looking for order in the universe, it’s nothing but a great big file cabinet (have you seen the typical file cabinet?) It would behoove me to redo my webpage or at least to start fresh and then link to the older material. But I’m not going to do that. And the only reason I even brought it up was so I could use the word “behoove.”  Behoove. Behoove. Behoove. I feel a hit hip-hop song coming on. Hey, behoove, isn’t that the freaky hairstyle chicks used to wear in the 50’s? No moron. It’s where bees live.
 
 

1-24-02

I got all excited using my brand spanking new lightweight cordless broom-vac, until I realized what a piece of junk it is. Y’see, I require super suction. I could flip Monica Lewinski upside down and run her over my carpet with only minimal success (she’s good for milk spills). My mother even gave me this old expensive electrolux tank only I hate it because it’s so darn clunky. (yes I just said “darn.” I can’t always be expected to come up with funky words like “behoove.”) Even my electrolux supervac can’t properly pick up my long hair sheddings. I have to pull them out of the roller. It looks like I vacuumed up Alf.  And this bagless vacuum thing is totally overrated. You realize this when you jerk out the dust collection cup and everything you just vacuumed flies out all over. Maybe I should’ve handled it more gingerly. But I still didn’t appreciate having to vacuum twice, I felt like I was in vacuum training. And I’ve already learned the ropes. There’s only one rule you must abide by when vacuuming and that’s the need to actually pick up large objects. Id be great on one of those vacuum commercials where they vacuum up ball bearings. I do that kind of thing all the time. I’m well aware of the guy solution to all this, namely ‘don’t vacuum.’  What we really need are disposable vacuums. Of course that could lead to some confusion surrounding the definition of vacuum bag. Is the vacuum bag the one inside the vacuum or the one you throw the vacuum out in. We could prevent this confusion by making the disposable vacuums bagless. Bagless vacs would be ok in this case because you’d never have to empty anything (you were all prepared to call me a bagless vac hypocrite weren't you!)

I don’t want the environmental lobby after me (even though I know I can outrun a vegan), so we’ll make sure the outer shell is biodegradable. When I was in grade school “biodegradable” was this big vocab word. Unfortunately it didn’t mean “will make biology class disappear.” I used to wonder (I think I still do) why biodegradability mattered when you have garbage sitting under 1000 tons of other garbage. I have this easy simple solution to the garbage crisis. You take a heap of garbage and you pack it in a nice box*. And then you label the box “free.” This will work I’m telling you. People will bring friends.
*made from that recycled post consumer pre consumer present consumer material. Don’t ask me for actual percentages.

Maybe I just don’t like vacuums because of my weird but cool Uncle Marvin who was actually my cousin (no jerry springer scandal there. Everyone has a cousin they call uncle. And if they don’t, their cousin should twist their arm behind their back until they do) My weird but cool Uncle Marvin used to warmly scare the bejesus out of me with these outlandish horror stories which I bought into hook line and sinker. He seriously convinced me that chewing strawberry hubba bubba caused “pink tongue disease” (it didn’t occur to me at the time “so what, my tongue is pink anyway.”) He used to pick on my sister and I with that one. He never bugged my brother who used to shove the entire pack of hubba bubba in his mouth at once, he had like advanced stage 5 pink tongue disease.  Mischievous Marvin also told me a story about a little girl so little she got vacuumed up. There were a couple of weeks I panicked and hid when my mom turned on the vacuum. I wasn’t going out like that. Besides, you’re supposed to pick up the large objects!
 

 




 

1-29-02

Lisa and me. I'm on the left. I know you know that but I felt like adding commentary

 

Matchmaking is a big mitzvah. Big mitzvah, not bar mitzvah. A mitzvah is a good deed. Apparently, G-d is logging this stuff down though you wouldn't know it from the righteous slob with no food in his belly and the wealthy drug lord with no food in his belly (well crack makes you lose your appetite) A grade school rabbi made the mistake of telling me that it wasn't the size of a contribution that mattered, that every single coin in the charity ("tzedaka") box was a mitzvah. From then on I always donated in pennies. I had at least 5 times the mitzvahs of everyone else. I was a mitzvah machine baby. You can never rack up enough mitzvahs. The lovely sprightly lady you see pictured here is single and available. If you are Jewish, sane (it could happen), 35<x<50 y.o. and you haven't said "I liked her but she didn't like me" after your last 10 dates, and... are interested in possibly meeting Lisa and helping me get my initials up on the mitzvah board, drop me a note at untamedshrew@hotmail.com

Please don't ask me how many email accounts I have. Let me put it this way. If email accounts were mitzvahs, I'd have my halo. and wings. and a puffy fluffy pillow cloud where I'd nap all day (I'm sorry but flying down to earth to help some hopelessly nerdy guy become a ladies man in an "original" major motion picture that's just going to flop anyway, is not my idea of paradise)


 

 

 




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