Weblog Sin Pies

By Charley Daniels

I really want to sing the “Powdermilk Biscuits” song from A Prairie Home Companion, but I don’t know the words, and yeah I could find out what they are, but even if I did I’d never sound like Garrison Keillor. So what would be the point?

It’s a dilemma, I swear, because of the chilling effect. You’ve heard of the chilling effect, right? I’ve heard of it too. I don’t really know what it is, but it affects things, future things like what you’ll sing in the future and who will give you a recording contract based on the quality of your singing. And it affects other things too.

Let this be a lesson to you.

By Charley Daniels

My earlier post about the Weblog Sin Pies traffic graph looking like dragons mating may not have registered for some, so Isabelle helped out by making it a little less subtle:

Now do you see?

By Charley Daniels

Behold, the oddest commercial I’ve seen in a while:

By Charley Daniels

The graph of my traffic totally looks like dragons (or angular snakes) mating:

By Charley Daniels

I just saw a commercial where Terminix essentially says: “Science claims that if everything on the planet is killed in some sort of catastrophe, cockroaches will be the only survivors. Not if we can help it.” So I guess their goal, like any keeper of the peace, is to put themselves out of business, even if it means wiping out what might someday be the last living thing on Earth. Dedicated, that is.

Got any good cockroach stories?

My best cockroach story is brief, which is only partially why I won’t ever forget it. I was riding the Portland streetcar on my way to school one morning. A gentleman sat down directly in front of me. Something you should know about the first iteration of that trolley: They hired a clown-car designer to draw up the seating arrangements. It was a little … comfy. So we were packed in there together, and this gentleman in a dirty baseball cap (foreshadowing) sat down in the seat in front of me, his head within nuzzling distance. It was clear to me that the man had a tough run of it, by which I mean he was obviously some sort of bum, hobo, or boxcar willy. He smelled, ok? (Note to self: Remember that last sentence if you ever get in an argument about whether commas are important.)

Anyway, we were all cozy in the streetcar when he reached up to adjust his hat, and as he did I caught his reflection in the trolley window. To my surprise he was actually a cockroach dressed up like a man!

No, no, that’s not how it happened. He turned and said, “Excuse me, can you point me to a dark corner?” and I realized he was a cockroach dressed as a man!

Ok, what actually happened was he adjusted his hat, and a cockroach fell out from between his hat and his head, where it had apparently found refuge as it escaped some danger. Good move, cockroach. Reminds me of the time in middle school when my friend and I were hanging out with these girls in the woods and their dads showed up with guns to collect the tents, and we decided the best place to hide from them would be in the tents. That’s another blog post.

So, yeah, that guy had a cockroach hanging out under his hat, which fell out basically in my lap on the Portland streetcar. I was too stunned to shriek like a sissy, thank the god of self-respect, because that would have misrepresented my true feelings about cockroaches, which is: You’re gross, but if you weren’t around, who would eat the garbage?

Hey, maybe that thing was his pet, though if it was it didn’t want to be, judging by how fast it got the hell out of there. I wonder what happened to that cockroach. Maybe he still lives on the trolley?

So, yeah, like I said before: Got any good cockroach stories?

Check out the Terminix commercial below the fold.
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