Archive | October, 2012

The Watertown Feminists E-Newsletter

30 Oct

Hello ladies,

Unfortunately, due to Hurricane Sandy, the Watertown County Feminists will not be meeting this week. However, next week’s meeting at Judy’s house is as scheduled. Due to the scheduling conflict, we will have the pot-luck at Judy’s (dibs on potato salad!) and the bring-a-friend-night will happen in November.

However, just because we aren’t meeting doesn’t mean we are relieved of our duty to fight male chauvinism this hurricane season. Every autumn, we are assaulted by a barrage of anti-women propaganda, as storms are dubbed with an offensive womanly nomenclature. This sly insinuation of the women’s stormy, disruptive characteristics can not be continued, and as proud females for females, we have the power to stop it. The continued naming of tropical storms after women is a crude effort by our own government to paint women as dangerous inconveniences to society, and we must wage our guerilla efforts with increased fervor this hurricane season.

– Lisa

P.S. I still have dibs on the potato salad.

Today’s Random Thought

29 Oct

I saw two statuses:

No school tomorrow!
No, school tomorrow!

The importance of punctuation.



Today’s Random Thought

25 Oct

Since arriving at the stadium, Pablo Sandoval and Prince Fielder make up a combined 4 percent of San Francisco’s biomass.

Cartoon Guide to Breaking out of Prison

21 Oct

1. Be in prison. I don’t care if you were just holding that ACME bomb for a friend, this is a cartoon. There is no due process nor do you have the right to legal counsel. And just to add insult to injury, you’re going to have to wear a silly striped costume.

2. Smash rocks. Cartoon prisons love it when you smash rocks, so do your best and get the guards on your side.

3. Inform your cellmate of your plan. He doesn’t necessarily have to come along, but he’s going to have to stop playing the harmonica and banging a cup on the bars of your cell long enough for you to get out quietly.

4. Wait. In this cartoon prison, the guards do not work shifts or report to some kind of central command. The only security the prison has at night is a sleeping guard sitting three feet from your cell with his keys hanging loosely from his belt loop.

5. Get the keys. Unfortunately, the guard’s belt is roughly two inches beyond your reach, so it’s time to get creative. Your best bet will probably be to inch your leg out of the cell and grab the keys with your oddly opposable toes.

6. Bolt. Now that you’re out of the cell, you’re automatically out of the prison. That’s just how it works. Something with relativity, I guess.

7. Make it over the wall. Although the prison security has been insanely lax so far, they were really just concentrating their resources on this small strip between the building and the fence. The control tower has big lights, a megaphone, and all kinds of other stuff that’ll spot your attempt.

8. Dig a tunnel. Grab that shovel sitting next to the fence, and get under the fence as fast as you can. I have a feeling this will only take a matter of seconds.

9. Be free. Despite the massive manhunt for you and your face being plastered on all of the newspapers, retreat to a small cabin on a lake and lay in a hammock. They’ll never find you.

Anti-Bullying Workshop

17 Oct

School systems across America do great things to help kids fight bullying and make their learning environments ones in which students are more respectful and care for each other. They offer students strategies to stand up for themselves and aid others who are in sticky situations. However, there are many cutting-edge techniques in the anti-bullying field that often aren’t discussed at these workshops.


The Budding Psychologist 

“Gimme all your lunch money.”

“Sure, you can have the money. But do you not think that your constant need to take from others is a subconscious representation of an emptiness you feel? Is there something in your life that you were never given, and therefore you feel you need to take? Tell me about your mother.”

The Reversal

“Gimme all your lunch money.”

“No, you gimme all your lunch money.”

“No, you gimme all your lunch money.”

“No, you gimme all your lunch money.”

“No, I give you all my lunch money.”


The Messy Reversal

“Gimme all your lunch money.”

(Target responds with a swift jab to the stomach and runs to get the janitor.)

The Yosemite

“Gimme all your lunch money.”

(Target holds his coat high over his head to create the illusion of size, stands very still, and tries to control his heart rate and breathing because they can smell the fear.)

My Apollo 13 Moment

13 Oct

No one ever expects an accident. Subconsciously, you know the risk, but you’re never prepared correctly. I certainly wasn’t when I heard the call. My dad had accidentally punctured a plastic pipe carrying water while laying some insulation. I came to the rescue, with nothing but my wits and a roll of duct tape.

However, just as I arrived on the scene, he left to call the plumber. I was on my own. There were no more instructions. It was just me, whatever I could scrounge from our basement, and a quickly leaking pipe. Working hastily, I cut up a plastic bag and held over the leak, taping it down at the edges. I became frustrated as the water seeped out the seams. I looked down at the rapidly expanding puddle at my feet, and the gravity of the situation hit me like a freight train.

The water kept coming, taunting me with its incessant drip-drip-drip. I needed a solution, or I’d be condemned to an eternity in the cold, empty void of the crawl space with all the plumbing in it. I looked up at the pipe, down at the pool, and deep into my soul. This ended now.

Like most ideas, it came to me in an instant, its origins a mystery. Remembering how little time I had left, I tore off the plastic and duct tape and bolted up the stairs. Without stopping to breathe, I headed for the pantry. I scrounged through every drawer until I came upon the necessary tool: Razzles. I popped three into my mouth and chewed them into a sticky goo. I leapt back down to the crawl space and went back to work.

Contorting myself once again under the pipe, the water lapped at my ankles, constantly reminding me how much of a lead it had gotten. In one fell swoop I laid the Razzles over the hole and saw the water stop. The leak was plugged. I was going to see my family again. I was going home.

Golddigger’s Sonnet

9 Oct

I am consumed by fiscal passion

when I gaze upon your wrinkles.

I lust for your high-waisted fashions,

and your enlarged prostate tinkles.


The familiar bulge in your slacks:

a wallet of Visa and Amex Gold.

That compensates for what your body lacks,

and my friends saying you are old.


The age difference means nothing to me,

as I have caught the curse of King Midas.

You have as many years as my father,

and you see the same doctor for arthritis.


I am a golddigger, I am with no shame.

I’m in it for the will, now it’s just a waiting game.

Teenagers: A Guide for the Elderly

4 Oct

Teenagers (adolescents, youngsters, the people on your lawn) can often be seen in their natural habitat engaging in wild antics that can send even the most resilient pacemaker offbeat. However, these exotic activities are not necessarily the result of the underage drinking and grass-smoking you preemptively called the police about; hey may just be some of the fun new trends kids enjoy these days. Try your hand at this fun quiz to figure out which fads are real and which aren’t!

Coning – at an ice cream parlor, kids reach out and grab their ice cream by the cream itself. The server’s reactions are usually videotaped.

Scarfing – as many kids as possible try to wear the same scarf at once. Knitted hilarity ensues.

Nuggeting – kids turn their friends’ backpacks inside out, making the contents inaccessible.

Microbusinessing – teens seeking out a cheap thrill hastily create their own startup companies. Examples include artisan yogurts, digital clocks for vegans, and DIY taxidermy kits for the everyman.

Bedazzling – late at night, students prowl the streets for inattentive law enforcement officers. Working fast, they bedazzle the officer and scram in a poignant cry for freedom.

Poking – youngsters hide themselves in public mailboxes and read your letters, secretly laughing at those who still send mail.


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