Oh, Wow, Man, That Easter's Bunny Dude Is a Kutchie, Goof Butt, Knuckle Samich, Fry Daddy, Man

100 Things About Me

#28

Walking Out on Walt

I am ironclad frugal.

For example, Disney Home Video released one of the quintessential film masterpieces, "Bambi" (1942), in its DVD debut. I already owned a very good laserdisc version which I purchased for $35-$40. Considering I've watched the print once, replacement would not be cost effective.

Case closed.

Then, I read where the studio put "Bambi" through a lengthy and vigorous digital restoration, recapturing the movie's original colors, and improving the visual clarity and sound quality to levels intended by the creative team, although never achieved due to the technical limitations of the past. The DVD packaging boasts that the picture looks better than ever in this new transfer, a two-disc Special Edition.

Thank you. I'd love to have it, but case closed.

Later, I learned the "Bambi" DVD includes deleted sequences, behind-the-scenes documentation, games, and other tantalizing extras.

Case closed. Perhaps, I'll buy something else, maybe some food or a new kitchen sink sponge. No DVDs. Nope. No, no. And, no.

Soon, I just happened to find myself in a media store, standing next to a large "Bambi" display. That DVD packaging was enticing, down to the handsome pink butterfly resting on Bambi's nose. I had made up my mind and when I save money, I don't turn back. The $29.99 list price was $29.99 destined to remain in my pocket.

I walked away, momentarily pausing to look over my shoulder to gloat at the shrinking "Bambi" discs left behind in my ambling dust. I couldn't help noticing the sale price was posted at $15.99, nearly a 50% discount.

Case closed. I'm moving on. Now, where did I park my car?

Increasing my pace towards the front door, I reached into my pocket and rattled my keys. I zipped up my jacket, bracing for the windy chill outside.

"Attention, shoppers," intoned the blaring public address system. "In our video department, Walt Disney's 'Bambi' is the special today."

I extended my right arm. My palm made contact with the glass door. Nice breeze.

"Buy the DVD and get a free plush Thumper--"

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100 Things About Me

#27

Watch This Space

I am a procrastinator.

In fact, I'm a procrastinator par excellence.

In fact,

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Another 10 Pickup Lines for the Elderly Swinger

"Aren't you the Sominex Girl?"

30. "I'm retaining water for two."

29. "You made a right turn into my heart. My blinker will be on for miles."

28. "Is that a banana in your pocket or do you take a potassium supplement?"

27. "You are the girl of my dreams. At least, I hope so. Could you check my pulse to make sure I'm only dozing?"

26. "I still think like a college kid. I've got surround sound and a subwoofer on my gas pains."

25. "Wanna crawl into the van and shoot up Metamucil?"

24. "I've got the grip of a blood pressure cuff."

23. "May I extend my Senior Citizen bonus?"

22. "You make me feel so young. I love the way your veins look like a tattoo and your breasts bounce next to your Ugg boots."

And the number 21 Pickup Line for the Elderly Swinger...

"If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me, if I transplanted my brain into it?"

Previously: Top 10 Pickup Lines for the Elderly Swinger | 10 More Pickup Lines for the Elderly Swinger

100 Things About Me

#26

Mall Tarts and Balderdash

I'm a people watcher. And I'm a people lover. And I'm a people nurturer.

I like seeing the fashions parade by.

A popular contemporary style involves grown men wrapping tight, colorful bandana do-rags onto their scalps as an adornment.

Oh, the festiveness! I get caught up in the haute couture for I am nothing but appreciative of a handsome accessory for the heady poseur!

I never fail to stroll over to these gallant gents and stress in my most excited, breathy, gee-whizzy stage whisper:

"Are ... YOU ... a ... PIRATE?"

A sure-fire eye-turner to avert my gala gaze o' gawks from fancy guys avoiding the plank are the young ladies cruising the malls in fur boots.

I'm fascinated by these noble nubility who stroll thither and hither in deep, wintry, 25 degrees cold snaps, often in hiphugger miniskirts, always in belly shirts -- and exposed cleavage-in-waiting.

Their legs are ensconced in oversized, puffy and/or fluffy and/or mukluky footwear stretching upwards to knees and navel-pierced glints.

I dub thine lasses: skankimos.

And I am here to shepherd them, for I am Skankimoses.

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Photos copyright ©2005 Mike Durrett. All rights reserved.

100 Things About Me

#25

She looks like a million for being a million.

I find myself attracted to older women.


Wilma is sooo HOTT!

I, all boy, treasure staring into her big, dark, dreamy apostrophes.

I'm also attracted to younger women.


Girlfriend is such a hoochie! But, alas, I must observe my strict moral standards.

*sigh*

I do believe Jane Jetson is too young for me. Besides, I like 'em to have been born yet.

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100 Things About Me

#24
"That didn't come out right."

I'm a smart aleck, even when I'm not trying to be a smart aleck.

Evidence

Here's an actual, completely innocent conversation I had with The Wife®:

Donna: I plan on watching "The Passion of the Christ" again -- maybe Easter weekend. Shall we order from [our mail rental service] or should I rent it from Blockbuster?

Mike: Either. Blockbuster might help you nail it down better.

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What "Family Guy" Character Are You?

What the Deuce?

I woke up this morning wondering what character on "Family Guy" I most resemble in the personality department -- and in my limited animation. (I seldom show my feet and I favor appearances before repetitious, one-dimensional backgrounds.)

I found a "Family Guy" quiz on the Internet and answered all of their pesky interrogatories.

My Results:

"Who the hell do you think you are? Ah, you're STEWIE. You have an intellect greater than most of your peers, but much of it is squandered on bizarre obsessions. You demand much from those around you and hide a deep, dark secret."

Oh, my goodness! This is the most marvelous moment of my life. I'm Stewie. I'm STEWIE!

At last, someone understands me. I am just like him. I toddle around the house. I have issues with that woman who resides here. And I like to be pampered.

Indeed, my intellect is greater than most of my peers. Few of them understand why Joe Besser made a better Stinky than a Stooge. Back to your beer vomits, boys.

What's this "bizarre obsessions" charge? I need to know. The only obsession I have concerns my career and it is decidedly non-bizarre. Writing is hard. There are days I want to change occupations. Those are the days I roll a Wal-Mart greeter and dress me up in the happy face vest.

Ten minutes of that and I'm back minding my p's and q's, assorted vowels, the occasional ampersand, and 24 words per nap intermission.

Perhaps, I am a smidgen demanding. I couldn't say. Now, where are my personal pedicurist-slash-soap-bar-whittler and the souffle fluffer? Those two shall be docked! They'd better be procuring circular, flat, mucilaginous fruit of the dwarf mallow, if they know what's good for them.

It is also puzzling to imply I "hide a deep, dark secret." Nothing is further from the truth. So what if I still drink from a baby's milk bottle?

Stewie drinks from a milk bottle. He's cool. Me, too. I'm hip. My milk bottle has a nipple ring.