Being a Flash in the Pan? Funny.

People have a strong desire to be part of "something big".

 Probably not like, in the way that you would become part of a dinosaur if it ate you.  Even though it's big, and you'd be part of it, I think it's more an intrinsic "big" that we're looking for, here.

They seek the latest trend, they jump in front of cameras, they show up at events they think might be important or talked about or whatever.  This behaviour might be fueled by a wish to be famous, or to do something good, or to just be a participant in the collective, or whatever, but no matter the case- I feel that I can use this compulsion to my advantage.

Things like this are evidence that support my claim.  They all just wanna be a part of it.

I recently went to Jubilations for the first time with Bob and some friends.  I was pretty impressed with the performance overall- I am always amazed that there are people who can sing and dance at the same time.  It's not often that people do either really very well, so it's pretty dang spectacular when they can do both at a standard that is superior to, say, a strutting chicken bokking.

Hey, man.  There's a whole DANCE named in my honour.  Maybe you know it???

At Jubilations, they pull people up on stage during the intermissions and have them dance around because it's their birthday, or it's their anniversary, or whatever such nonsense.  It becomes obvious very quickly why some people are paid to be on stage, and others pay a lot of money to watch those people.

But it also becomes apparent that even though people might be a bunch of talentless bums, they are perfectly willing to show off their lack of skills to whoever might be watching.  I know that I am prone to this- I sing far more often than someone in my predicament of "not being able to" should, and I have been known on occasion to "bust a move", as they say.

"They" being this guy.

It's a horrible and amazing product of the human condition.  People can be convinced without too much struggle to get out there and do stuff in public.

While we were at Jubilations, they sang the Birthday Song to the people on the stage who were celebrating their birthday that evening.  Or, I guess I should clarify a couple points about that:
1. They sang a ridiculous, made-up song that they claimed was the Birthday Song but wasn't all "Happy Birthday to You", it was the Batman Theme song with a lot of jazz hands and mostly them singing "Birthday" over and over.  Actually, not even mostly.  Now that I sing it again in my head, it was entirely "Birthday" over and over.
2. They sang to those people who claimed they had a birthday that evening.  I don't think they checked ID, so I think we might never know for sure.

"Yes!  Got the Birthday Song and IT'S NOT EVEN MY BIRTHDAY!!!"

Anyway, this led to the joke that next birthday, Brittany would sing the Birthday Song (a la Jubilations) to Danielle, who is not a fan of public nuisance and carrying on, at least not when it involves her and her birthday and singing about it and jazz hands.

And really, who can blame here?  Those are the ingredients for disaster.

OR...

The ingredients for a HILARIOUS MASTERPIECE, full of delicious laughter with a sprinkling of snorts and a dash of chortle.

I kept going with that one because I wanted to use the word "chortle".  Also, here is a picture of a team platter from some pub.  Looks good, eh?

I'm not one to let someone's discomfort at well-meaning public humiliation go unnoticed, so I joked that we should all head down to Danielle's work (which is at a huge mall, so very public) and sing her the Birthday Song really, really loudly and really jazz-hand the crap outta the performance.

I think this might actually be a picture of me.  Hm.

THEN I thought, even BETTER: why not make it a flash mob?  See, this is how this whole entry is coming back around.  People love doing public stunts, and right now people are SO on board with the "flash mob" mentality.  

An aside: first, note my super-apt use of "mentality" up there to combo with "mob"- 3x damage!!  Then, think about this- why don't we have a flash mob where we flash people?  Doesn't that seem really obvious???  Or maybe that's how the whole thing started...if only I wasn't too lazy to look it up.  Nope, my googling skills will be used solely for the purpose of finding funny pictures to supplement my writing, in case people get bored of the ol' words.

All we'd need to do is put out an ad on all the social media outlets- facebook, twitter, craigslist, kijiji, the evening news...that there is going to be this SUPER AWESOME IMPORTANT FLASH MOB that raises awareness about cuticle health, aging and comic book legends (simultaneously!  We care about a lot of causes) happening at the local large mall at precisely whatever time.  Prepare your best jazz hands, your loudest singing voice and be sure to direct the bulk of your energy directly at the most embarrassed looking girl there, as she suffers from unhealthy cuticles, aging and a lack of Batman in her life.

Another aside.  I have no idea, frankly, the condition of Danielle's cuticles.  But I would hazard a guess that they are fine.  I just need a cause that the jazz hands raise awareness of.

The result would be, in my mind, and perhaps in reality- thousands of people show up and sing the Birthday Song at once.  Hilarious, and amazing.  If I can work in a public marriage proposal, I'm fairly certain that it would be the stuff of youtube legend.

In closing, this:

...which is one of the things that comes up when you google "I miss Batman".  

...is it terrible that I laughed a little?

Moral of the story: Always participate in flash mobs.  Always.  Even when they seem stupid.  Because you never know when it's one of mine.

Ad Nauseum? Funny.

I am glad that I live in the modern era that we enjoy today.  I get the reap the benefits of other people's innovations and the convenience that they bring.

For example, I now watch television almost exclusively on Netflix (it's eight bucks a month, people, get on board) or off my PVR (expensive hit at first, but I don't know how we lived before).  This means that I no longer watch stuff just to fill time until what I really want to watch is on, and it also means that I view FAR less commercials.  Those commercials that I do watch are usually in fast forward.

When I'm out of town, or not paying attention, or watching a live event that would be ruined if I waited to watch it, I see commercials like in the "olden days".

You know what's a super weird word?  "Olden".

 

Television advertisements seem to all operate on the premise that the average viewer is a complete and utter moron, who has no idea how to accomplish any task of any kind at any time without total guidance and a lot of product purchasing.

I don't know who this poor sap John is, but someone thinks he's pretty stupid.

The people who write commercials also seem to think that we soil ourselves really, really regularly, in all sorts of fairly colourful ways.  For example, this:

 

 That's not what happens.

Or this:

  

Get it?  His tide to go pen leaked.  And made him clean.

 

Or this:

Ever wonder where his hat went?  Yeah, me too.

It all makes me want to act precisely as the people in the ads do- like doorknobs who are saved from their otherwise horrible life by some magical product that solves everything.

I WILL spill beet juice all over myself, wander around a trade show and appear to be a murderer (have you seen that one??  The guy is wearing a butcher apron and the resolve bimbos wash him clean, he claims he's covered in beet juice but I'm pretty sure that they have just concealed important evidence).

I WILL be embarrassed by my heaving, exposed bosom and regain my dignity by wearing a tiny scrap of fabric instead of a properly fitting shirt.

PS. This looks like a set of tiny thong underwear for men.

I WILL wander into a room full of rotting corpses and exclaim that in fact, it DOES smell like a spring breeze!  If I was walking though a field next to a slaughterhouse on a hot day while carrying a bag of untreated manure!

Who would DO this?  Put a strange object up to your nose and inhale deeply...sounds like a recipe for chloroform-induced coma.

There are a lot of claims out there about the power of advertising.  I tend to think that generally speaking, commercials that pander to me like I'm a brainless sack of crap make me AVOID the products they are hawking.  I know that I've seen ads that have made me boycott brands entirely.

I never bought any of this garbage before, but I certainly won't be tempted given the marketing strategies of this particular company.

Anyway, I just think it would be funny if we acted like the consumers in ads do...fighting over dishwasher detergent...yelling at the KFC guy...touching other people's laundry on the street....  But I have to say that my life energy is better spent getting right to the quality programming I have prerecorded for my viewing pleasure.

Moral of this story:

On the right: Abercrombie CEO.  He says ugly people shouldn't wear his clothes.  Fat people neither.

It is truly outstanding that by chance, in the wonderful world of google searching, I managed to sneak in two LOR related memes in a post about television commercials.  Nice one, interwebs.

Gettin' Crafty? Funny.

This episode brought to you by: LAZINESS. I can't be bothered to get up and retrieve my computer, which is as much as twenty steps away (several of them stairs), so I'll take the easy route and type this on my phone. Wait...what?
This will result in you being deprived of many of the more interesting and humorous aspects of this blog- boldface font, different type sizes....stolen images from the Internet...nothing like a little plagiarism to delight the senses, eh?
WELL NOT TODAY, friends. No. Instead, you will be treated to an ill-spelled, oddly punctuated and PICTURELESS entry, riddled with the occasional gratuitous use of CAPS LOCK.

It's a bit funny to say that I'm being lazy in this entry (it's a bit funny...isn't that the point?), since this tiny touch screen typing is really pretty time consuming, but also because I am going to tell you about a rather tedious, but also fun, activity that I participate in with some friends.

We engage in craft night every few weeks. We paint, build and cross-stitch. We drink tea and chit chat. We make many jokes about elderly people, most of them having something to do with how damned hard cross-stitch is on the eyes and fingers and what the HELL are old people thinking???

Craft night is not just enjoyable time spent with good friends. It's also a place ripe with hilarious potential.

I've started to make many of my gifts for people. Given my level of skill in most crafts (beginner, with a side of apathy and a healthy serving of attention deficit), this is already funny. I once painted a picture for a wedding present. It was a real dickhead thing to do- for one, I'm not great at painting. Two, they certainly didn't put "crappy half-ass painting" on their registry. Three, in my head, it was going to be really nice. When it wasn't (big effing surprise), I didn't do the right thing and get them a nice set of towels; I gave it to them anyway. Along with an apologetic safeway gift card.

That, in itself, is only sort of funny. It's more jerky than funny.

What was funny was when that couple came to our wedding, and gave us a gift (which we still have, mind you- one step above my shitty painting, I'm sure) which came with a warning that it has the potential to burn our house to the ground. I think the message was fairly clear...I gave them a terrible painting, and they gave us a paperweight thing that could kill us. I deserved exactly that present- well played.

I'm a little more focused these days and the quality of my handmade "goods" (averages? mediocres?) has improved to the point that I'm not terribly ashamed. But I'm by no means an expert, so there's certainly still the "Handmade by Heather" special touch in all of them, and I don't pass up opportunities to infuse my idea of humour into them, too.

So if, perchance, your birthday approaches, or your second anniversary, or some other worthy event- and I like you enough to A) know about it and B) care, you just might find yourself the proud new owner of a swell cross-stitch bookmark with your face on it.

Isn't that nice?

Moral of this story: If I come to your wedding, and I bring you anything other than an envelope, I apologize...but the crafting bug bit me and the only cure is more shit painting.