Saturday, November 20, 2010

Rub a nub - ten people in a tub

Call it a phobia or whatever, but I am repulsed by hot tubs. Hate them.

So even though this may forever alter the way you view the fun and relaxing tub, I offer all about the various aspects about hot tubs that make me involuntarily shake with heebee-geebees every time I think about them.

To those of you who just bought your TurboSpa 6000, sorry. And to you who own one already, sorry too. Try and forget what I write here during the four times a year when you use yours.

I refer to hot tubs as “people soup” or “human bullion”. Why? because people who sit in them are literally stewing. “Soaking in the hot tub” is bad enough, but you’re not soaking, you’re stewing. That’s what you are doing…stewing. You all look like big chunks of meat softening up.

Speaking of chunks, ever thought about what is floating around in there as you frolic, thinking you’re at the Playboy mansion ? SKIN, lots of it. Big chunks of skin…and scabs and warts and corns, and urine (yep I went there), and my top gagger, hemoglobin from open wounds. Then snot guy…zits guy….

I also love how it is a big cauldron of bleach. Nothing sexier than naked time in the stuff they clean hospital instruments in. Speaking of naked time, what might be in water after that…wait - never mind, don’t think about that.

Love the hot tub smell, call it bleach-reek. And you know why there’s so much of that chlorine and liquid Lysol in there? see previous paragraph.

Super-heated water, in a small container, filled with bleach and humans - I’m on my way to the fair to buy one right now.

A few weeks ago, I’m with friends at this resort in Lake Chelan - yes I get the oxymoron - and they’re all drinking and having fun (Missus Kravitz is 2 ½ years sober and board shitless ) and they’re all headed to “The Grotto” for party time in the crock pot. The Grotto looks like something from the Land of The Lost, kept looking for Chaka. One hairy dude in the tub might have been him though.

So I purposely did not bring a bathing suit so I had an out and didn’t have to explain my phobia. Thank the Lord above for that. It was a hot tub trifecta. It was like a SNL skit or something, “All the things that wig you out about hot tubs in one place at the same time.”

First, there’s big fat kid. And as an aside, I was up on this seven-foot high bar stool overlooking the hot water pot. I felt like I was like the life guard. All I needed was that Crisco on the nose they use. ANYWAY, back to the fat kid. I was openly giggling because my friends, happily married with no children, had this fat kid right in between them - like he was their kid. He’d look at one of them, then turn right around to hear the other one’s response. Right in the middle of them. Laughs.

Next was the young teen trailer-twosome who were getting real close to just straight up mackin. Probably would have stayed there all night if it wasn’t for the band teacher busting them.

And in this corner, fat couple, she with the giant shower curtain bathing suit (with the little tu-tu thing around the waist - laughs), and he with the Wal-Mart suit with Disney or NASCAR or some shit on it.

He’s all frisky, probably from 10 MGDs and she’s all nervous, probably because there’s a chance he might want the annual romp and she wants to outlast him to the point where he passes out (very clever on her part to suggest a soaking in the hot tub - has the same effect as an elephant tranquilizer).

I’m all laughing up there in my director’s chair thing until I stop and go cold. Out from the tub walks an amputee. No. Shit. I recoiled in shock and fear. So I added a new one to the hot tub stew ingredients - stub junk.

(“walks” an amputee - heh)

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

New York, New York by way of Walla Walla

This special post is to offer you some free writing tips. Writing is kind of in my job description, so you'd think that I'd be somewhat good at it - though that skill is obviously not evident in this blog. Thanks for nothing University of Phoenix.

Our tip today deals things we all say and write but don't really realize it: redundancies.

Redundancies happen to be one of my pet issues, so much so that I get facial tics and Tourette’s each time one is uttered.

I've been writing them down as I hear them for years now. With this blog I have a reason for doing it. It is now my priviledge to educate my huge following out there (shout out to you four, you know who you are). I’ll even add an example for each to help you guide you.

After reading these, you too will be tormented by them. Better start eating Ritalin like M&Ms after that.

OK…let’s start with my favorite: Free Gift. You hear this one all the time.
“Hey man, I want you to have this gift.”
“Very cool. Thanks.”
“You bet. Give me thirteen dollars.”

Let’s continue.

Advance warning – literally a warning about a warning

Reduce it down – “I reduced this copy up to 7,000%.”

Armed gunman – The gunman, wielding a stolen policeman's pen, forced the hostages to play Jeopardy for their lives.

Ask the question – Similar to “riddle me this”

ATM Machine, PIN Number – 99% of people do not know what either of those abbreviations stand for, obviously.

Blend together – I have tried for years to blend together Reese’s with chocolate and peanut butter.

Close proximity – Look this shit up people. They mean the same damn thing. “Proximity” = CLOSE

Connect together – “Tyson connected together with a left to the temple of Creed and down goes Frazier.”

Two twins – fuuuuuuuuck

None at all - "Not even none a little bit?"

Protest against – I protest against my best favorite all the time

Repeat again – Did you not hear my initial repeat?

Rise up – The congregation rose up to their knees

Tuna fish – “I have a snake reptile that gets the farts something wicked bad after he eats tuna fish.”

Alright, that’s full enough of this caca shit. You get the photographic picture.