November 8, 2010
We had a great Mystery Hour on Friday night. We had a pizza guy deliver a pizza on stage not knowing that he had just won “Pizzalympics.” We had me take my clothes off to reveal tights and a tank top for my yoga lesson (which also involved me somehow not knowing what Miss Janie meant by lift your butt up). Plus, we had the always hilarious, What is G. Norm Saying?! Some said afterwards that it was their favorite show of all time. It definitely ranked up there.
For the last prompt I asked, “What is your typical Friday night?”
I did not get an answer, probably because I’ve been sooo crappy about posting lately. So, this is fun then. I will use a spam comment. Spam comments are a lot like your junk mail folder for your e-mail. They get sent to a separate folder you don’t see. I will use a couple of them for inspiration.
“helo The Mystery Hour , i read your blog , be a nice blog and useful. Great for everyone. useful Uncategorized and content. i going to often to read and review your site.”
“Wow! what an idea ! What a concept ! Beautiful .. Amazing ? I usually don?t post in Blogs but your blog forced me to, amazing work.. beautiful ?”
Oh man do I love broken English as a second language. Are they asking me if it is amazing or beautiful? I think it’s interesting that the first one gave the directive, “Be a nice blog,” and the second said, “your blog forced me to.” They seem to think my blog has human personality characteristics, mostly ones that make my blog potentially a tyrant.
I wonder what it would be like if websites did have human characteristics. What if they were all hanging out at a bar together?
A cool, hip bar with few decorations is packed on a Friday night:
Facebook: Hey everyone, sorry I’m late! Good to see everybody. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke.
MySpace: I ain’t never cared for you and you know it.
Friendster: Yeah, get out of here you jerk!
Facebook: Friendster! you’re still alive! That’s okay MySpace! What are you eating? Looks good!
MySpace: Glue. Lay off, or I will pimp your profile.
Twitter: Boy, MySpace seems a little bitter, eh?
Followers: Who needs friends when you can have followers. We will follow you to the end almighty Twitter. Can we have our Kool Aid now?
Google: Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I got a ride with Mapquest, we got lost. But, I feel like I didn’t miss anything because I was monitoring all your conversations on the way over here.
FoxNews: Obama is making you monitor all of us, isn’t he?
Wikipedia (screaming): I accidentally swallowed all the forks!!
Youtube: Wait, wait, everyone quiet down. Wiki, can you say that again? I wasn’t recording.
Wikipedia (screaming): I accidentally swallowed all the knives!!
Youtube: Yeah, but that’s not what you said the first time. It’s not accurate.
Wikipedia: Doesn’t matter! Accuracy is dumb!
Amazon: Who is that creepy guy in the corner with the fake mustache and the heavy mouth breathing?
Yahoo: That’s Craigslist. He just sits in the corner and watches people. Sometimes he even follows people home.
Amazon: Why is he sooo creepy?
Yahoo: Because he’s Craigslist, baby.
Craigslist: No, I’m not going to tip.
Ebay: You have to tip. The waitress provided you with a service, so of course, you tip.
Craigslist: Just because someone provides a service it doesn’t mean that money has to change hands.
Ebay: You’re ruining it for everyone else!
Craigslist: Oh yeah? You want to fight?
Ebay: Yeah, yeah, I do want to fight.
Just then a silence falls over the room.
CNN: Oh, hi Aol.
Facebook: Hey, Aol, you’re looking great, really.
Aol is dirty and disheveled. He slumps over a chair smoking a cigarette. He hasn’t eaten for days.
PayPal: Hey man, you want me to buy you some food or a drink or something?
Aol: I don’t need anything! I don’t need you guys!
Aol: Who said that? Who said that? I used to be the king! Coooosh wrrrr skeeee fffrnnngggg bbbbnnnnnnn kkkkkssssshhhhh wwoooongg
Amazon: What was that?
Yahoo: Dial up modem sounds. He’s having flashbacks.
Amazon: This is sad.
Wikipedia: I swallowed a roll of toilet paper so the forks would stop hurting!
Next prompt: What were you doing this past Sunday at 4 pm?