“Do not use that language at the table, young man,” I said primly, “I won’t have it.”
“What?” asked Squirt. “‘Pimping’?”
“‘Pimp’ isn’t a bad word anymore, Mom,” said Tiger. “It’s totally acceptable.”
I snorted.
“Mom!” Squirt said, rolling his eyes. “‘Pimp’ does not mean what it used to mean—back in the OLD days.”
Five little words: “back in the OLD days.”
Back before the internet. Before TV. Before Ben Franklin flew his kite. Back when stegosaurii canoodled about the plains. Back when our solar system was just a little twinkle in God’s eye. THAT far back.
WAY back.
I feel so old. I guess it’s only a matter of time before I’m listening to Mitch Miller records as I pick out my next muu-muu from the Carol Wright catalog.
If any of you guys don’t think you ought to be seen with an old fogey like me, just remember: I have all the chips and salsa over here at my table. And several pitchers of Margaritas, too.
So pucker up and come and kiss granny, I mean, have a seat… and we’ll plot a rollicking senior takeover of this crude, pimpin’ world, even if we have to wash out its mouth occasionally.
Today’s Super Sabado is a quick peek into the blogosphere, looking for something, anything, that will take our minds off the fact that life is passing us by more quickly than it is supposed to be doing…
I am not dead…
M.G. Tarquini, just making everybody is clear on this point.
“You know, I’m not trying to scare you, but it might be dangerous for you to have kids at your age.”
Buffy‘s grandma, trippin’ over Buffy’s biological clock. Heh! We can use current slang when we want to.
I’m going to have to tie a tag around my neck so i can remember who I am…when I get to that age…sheesh!
Helpful hints for remembering who we are in our old age, courtesy of Bonnie Calhoun. She doesn’t say anything about how to avoid trippin’, though.
If you are listening to a lot of music that was popular when you were in high school, this means that:
a) You are getting old.
b) You are already old.
Bonus question:
What does it say about you if that music includes “The Safety Dance” by Men Without Hats and “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany? (hypothetically speaking, of course)
Mr. Grouchypants, who isn’t admitting to anything.
Found items: …
A gel pen I didn’t know was missing.
The mouse in this picture.
And dust now being tested from the Mezosiac period.
No dinosaurs were located unless you count spent staples as prehistoric creatures.
Kait of Kait’s Chaos, who prefers to think it’s just her clutter that’s old.
?????????????????????????????????
Not even the Google translator was much help with this one. We’re only including this blog because it is number one in Technorati’s top 100 blogs (as of this writing), knocking Boing Boing into second place. Plus, we got bored with the idea of getting old and thought we’d change the subject.
Maybe I am selfish, but it is my friggin’ birthday and one of the few days of the year when it’s ALL ABOUT ME!!!
Woo hoo, there goes Dennie, head-butting that birthday into the middle of next week.
Someday, maybe she will win the fight,
And that bickering man will stay out for the night.
When you’re with the Bickersons,
have a yabba dabba doo time,
a dabba doo time,
we’ll have a gay old bickering time.
Teri Gray Franta of Here’s to Happy Women, putting to song her friend’s secret for a long and happy marriage.
Teenager has grown up in desert. Thinks “TIDE” is what keeps clothes clean.
Elizabeth of Plein Air Sketches on her boy’s recent half-burial in wet sand.
Not been feeling too crash hot…
Michelle of Justitia. Whatever it means, “crash hot” can’t represent anything good. (And neither can “pimping,” no matter what Squirt says.)
Whenever I think “That’s a dumb approach, who would fall for that?” I instantly remind myself that there are people out there who do. Sensible people. Good people. They just don’t know any better.
Gary of Gpeshwandotcom, grinding his teeth over sensible, good people who click on those “You’ve Just Won a Prize!” popups.
Item: Vanilla Mint Listerine…
Pros: Mintalicious. Less intense for wusses. Kills germs that cause bad breath, plaque, and the gum disease Gingivitis.
Cons: Not vanillalicious. Not intense enough for extreme people. Making up adjectives. Always being the first one out in dodgeball. Strobelight honeys. Beer goggle princes. Circle of Shame.
Marvo of The Impulsive Buy, taking a long, hard look at some mouthwash.
I know everyone has their favorite scents, whether daily or sporadically… but I just can’t figure out what occassion would be appropriate to smell like Play-doh?
Bayou of A Perfect Anomaly, taking a long, hard look at some odd perfume.
For one thing, I learned it’s never too early for an epidural. Why, I could have one right now!
Expectant father Jon, exploring the wonders of childbirth classes.
A-h-h! Cruel owners!
Mark McLellan‘s cat, Cleo, who finds it odd that Mary doesn’t like wainscot widdlers.
…he has been so far up my jammie since i got home, it’s like i have a milkbone up my ass or something.
Susan of Church of Angst, foolishly forgetting the raw power of word pictures.
He’s been digging holes with all the fervor of a robot taking rock samples on Mars, an armadillo after ants – or a copy editor in the comma mines.
Bernita Harris, reporting on the doings of Commakazi Calvin, the (Mostly) Corgi.
“Thank you for your honesty waiter,” the man says smiling, “I must say it’s refreshing.”
I amuse myself by wondering if the guy’d appreciate my pointing out his toupee’s off center. No, that might be too refreshing.
Some popular waiter blogging guy, hopefully not the one serving us our Margaritas today.
For those of you who made it through to the very end, here’s a Golden Retriever who looks like he’d make a great partner on Dancing with the Stars. Have a good week everybody!
(Here’s the link for RSS readers.)
You are so hilarious! Your banter is priceless. What a way to cheer me up.
I’m laughing so hard at that video. How totally cool! OMG…how did she do that with the dog? Such a long dance. The dog as well as the owner seemed to have so much fun with it! Awesome.
Squirt is priceless! I looked at that vanilla mint listerine, it looks like it would make a yummy cocktail LOL!
But everything old is new again.
Here’s to retro.
I don’t know how you manage to pull such hilarious themes out of such a diverse group of bloggers, but you do it every time! Great Super Sabado, I’ll spend the rest of my week checking out everyone’s blogs!!
And I LOVE the golden retreiver dance video! In answer to Mimi’s question, I wish this would have occurred to me when my golden was still alive because I think she would have done it, too. They are just such loyal dogs and will do anything if it involves playing with their owners! Just a precious video!!
Thanks for starting off my Sunday with such joy!
Mimi and Elizabeth, Isn’t that a great video? I adore goldens. Joy dressed up like a dog; that’s a golden.
Hey, Bernita, what do you think of the word ‘pimp’? As in, “He’s such a pimp!” (said with a fond admiration for his coolness and élan). Or “that’s my pimpin’ jacket,” as in, “that’s the jacket that will really draw in all the ladies.”
Michelle, yeah, it does look kind of drinkable, doesn’t it? I wonder if anybody will actually drink the stuff?
oh no… one of mine said it and I just gave the “because I said so” as to their questions why they couldn’t use it – I didn’t want to go into the meaning that my generation knows it for – I realize it does mean soemthing a little different now but still……
Yeah, Dennie… to me pimps will always be abusive, manipulative creatures who turned little Jan Brady to prostitution in “Dawn: Portrait of a Teenage Runaway.”
(Bonnie’s introduction to pimps, courtesy of the Movie of the Week.)
I’ve noticed the pimp word involved with clothes– pants falling off, etc. I don’t encourage it with Boy or Girl.
Nasty creatures, those pimps.
Ah, another digger in the midst. Queen B has been quiet on that front lately. Maybe she’s outgrown that fun thing. And maybe the moon is really cheese. 😉
The video was great. Love goldies. What a team.
Oh man, Bonnie! That dog video is just what I needed this afternoon! I see stuff like that and I remember why I think life can be so cool.
And yes, I am not dead, but my brain is dissolving into a hopeless pile of mush. I now return to my increasingly incoherant babblings.
Thanks for the laugh.
Who am I? Where am I? Oh, yea…the tag…now I know who I am…Calvin Cline…Uh, oh, hmmm!