Wait For It… a blog by Andy Ross

While You Were Out

Posted on October 15, 2010

Boss,

I couldn’t find any “While You Were Out” memo pads, so I’m writing this on paper towel. Sorry it’s so wet.

Someone named Henry called at around 5:30 last Tuesday. I forgot about it until just now. Anyway, he said it was an emergency, and he left his cell number. I’m almost positive it started with a six.

He said it had something to do with an important contract. Or, maybe contact? And, there was something about a judge or judging or judgment. No wait, it was definitely “Federal Judge Something-or-other.” Pretty definitely sure. Maybe.

Um, also Henry said you should avoid going to your apartment. There might be FDI agents there? I don’t know what an FDI agent is. Is it like an FBI agent? That would make more sense. Henry seemed really nervous about that part. He wanted you to call him right away. Last Tuesday.

His name might have been Benny, instead. I couldn’t really hear him, because I had the music going pretty loud in the office.

Anyway, you should call him back if you have his number. I can probably think of another digit or two if you really need it.

Let me know when you get this. I haven’t seen you since last week. Are you out sick or something? Also, the newspaper keeps calling for you. Something about an indictment? Or indictments? Indicting?

Oh yeah, and I’ll be out tomorrow for a dentist’s appointment.

—Andy

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Children’s Books

Posted on October 14, 2010

As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to write a children's book. Ever since I started reading them, myself. What was that, two years ago?

But, the brainstorming process is sooooooo hard. Not to say that I don't have any ideas. Just the opposite. I have so many ideas for children's books, I can't narrow them down. Here are a few of my top contenders, if you feel like helping me choose:

The Laughiest Giraffe
Gilda the Giraffe was raised by hyenas and loves to laugh. Will she learn to stop laughing at the other giraffes before they shun her forever for being a jerk?

The Funkiest Skunk
Stuart the Skunk lives and breathes disco. However, every time he steps out on the lighted disco floor, he nervously sprays his anal scent glands all over the crowd. Poor Stuart. How will he find his groove?

The Luckiest Duck
Dennis the Duck wins the Powerball and becomes the most famous duck in Central Park. But, will his lavish gifts to his goose entourage bankrupt Dennis before he has a chance to buy a yacht to sail south for the winter?

The Stinkiest Mink
Morris the Mink gets picked on for how much he stinks. It’s his lactose intolerance. Little do the bullies know that Morris’s foul smell is the only thing keeping him from becoming some rich lady’s coat. The happy ending finally comes when Morris recognizes a couple of his tormentors hanging in a shop window.

The Brattiest Bat
Bethany the Bat has gotten everything she’s ever wanted—the nicest caves, the spookiest bell towers. Her parents even paid Kayne West to perform at Bethany’s sweet sixteen. But, now she’s on her own in the big city trying to start her clothing line. Does she have what it takes?

The Scariest Mare
Doris the Horse is the protagonist of this psychological thriller, but she’s not the book’s namesake. The title comes from Claire the Mare. She’s Doris’s stepmother, and for most of the book, you think she might be trying to kill Doris.

The Brawniest Swan
Steven the Swan knows that swans are supposed to be delicate and graceful. But, when the pond’s football team needs a new linebacker, he decides to follow his dream and bulk up on protein powders and anabolic steroids.

The Wackiest Cat
Clarissa the Cat sure is wacky. Look at how wacky that cat is. What’s she doing now? Dog impressions? How wacky!

The Harriest Ferret
Frederick the Ferret makes a wish that his bald spot will go away. But, never make a wish on a monkey’s paw! Things always go wrong—like growing more and more fur until it fills the entire house. Things only get worse when Frederick wishes his big brother was there to help him. His dead big brother.

These ideas are just the first of many, many books. Hundreds. Let me know if you have any publisher friends. I need to get these children’s books out to help shape the minds of tomorrow. Precious, impressionable minds.

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Don’s Discount Sushi Shack

Posted on October 13, 2010

Sushi Sign

Welcome to Don’s Discount Sushi Shack! We bring you the fresh-ish sushi at the lowest prices! Guaranteed, or my name isn’t Don the Sushi Kong Deity. (Awkward translation, I know.)

At Don’s Discount Sushi Shack, you’ll find great savings on sushi, sashimi, tempura, teriyaki, waffles, hot dogs, maki rolls, turkey chili and more. Anything you want, we serve it. Raw. If you don’t see what you’d like on our 14-page menu, we’d be happy to whip it up special.

Terrific example: Last week, a gentleman walked in and ordered a reuben sandwich. Most sushi restaurants would have turned him away. “Oh, we don’t serve delicious reuben sandwiches,” they’d say. Well, Old Don here had his chef Keisuke go out and get some corned beef, some sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, and Russian dressing and roll it all up in rice and seaward. Pop a little salmon roe on top. Blammo, instant reuben roll!

You like edamame? We’ve got so much edamame we have to store it in the basement behind the water heater. You like tuna? Our tuna is so big, it’s technically not even tuna anymore. But, you bet your blowhole it’s mighty tasty.

At Don’s, the only thing we love more than fish and fish-like substitutes is value. That’s why we bring you amazing weekly deals like: Buy one tentacle, get six free! Half price eel when the fridge breaks down! And, if your child finds a band aid in her food, she gets all-you-can-eat chicken fingers!* (*Sometimes called duck feet.)

How do we keep prices so low? Volume and ingenuity. Most sushi places jack up their prices by buying softshell crab with its shell already soft. We found a way to soften that shell on our own using ordinary household cleaners. That’s thinking outside the bento box!

Don’t forget dessert! Candied clam, dried sea urchin in mayonnaise, frozen yogurt. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Grandma Satsuki’s Live Chocolate Lobster. Watch out for those snapping claws--they’re delicious!

Critics are calling Don’s Discount Sushi “Probably the…sushi ever…put…” and “Unbelievably…” But, you don’t have to take their word for it. In fact, please don’t. Come on down and see for yourself.

I promise, this will be one sushi dinner you will never forget. Never.

Don’s Discount Sushi Shack. Located kitty-corner from the gravel lot, behind long-term parking at the freight airport on Hwy 12. Just follow the smell!

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Private Island

Posted on October 12, 2010

When I bought my first island, I thought, This is gonna be great. Pristine beaches, solitude, all the tropical fruit I can eat. And, those things are true. But, it’s not all mangos and rainbows owning your own island.

First off, people are constantly getting shipwrecked. It’s not like how they portray it in movies and TV. There are waaayyy more stranded shipwreck survivors than Hollywood wants you to believe. Every month or so, some bedraggled couple washes ashore. Hasn’t anyone heard of GPS?

I used to leave them alone for the first week and let them have the authentic shipwreck experience—building a lean-to, creating fire, stalking a wild boar. But, I was running out of boars. So, now I just send my personal chef down with some cous cous and an inflatable raft.

Secondly, other eccentric billionaires constantly drop in to visit my island. I know why they’re swinging by on their mega-yachts; It’s because they want to see what little improvements I’ve made to my island. This is not a competition, guys. Just because I built an underwater viewing station doesn’t mean you have to build one too. I’m looking at you, Shah Omar.

Finally, international spies--such a nuisance. You spend months planning and fabricating a hollow volcano to house your weather-controlling laser. Then, at the last minute, some jerk in a tuxedo parachutes in and thinks he owns the place. Sexy female assassins don’t grow on trees. You can’t just go around seducing and killing them, Agent Whatever-Your-Name-Is.

That’s why I’ve started buying up decoy islands. I have a couple spread out around the globe. Sure, the upkeep expenses add up—not just the utility bills, but also the maintenance staff and the body doubles of myself. It’s an investment, though.

Listen, I gotta bounce. I’m finishing a project to bore into the Earth’s mantle and install earthquake machines under major cities. I’ve got a ton of little details to shore up before the end of the day. If you guys want a Mai Tai or anything, just ring the bell for Rolf. He’s the one with the glass eye and face scar. He makes a super nummy Mai Tai.

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More Random “Facts”

Posted on October 11, 2010

I've posted random facts that I made up before. Here are more:

- The average, adult Eastern Gray Squirrel reads only 1.8 books per year.

- Fraternal twins cannot feel each other's pain, but they can feel each other’s sense of wonderment.

- Carburators used to be called horselesscarriageburators.

- Pacific Islanders have over two hundred patronizing eye rolls for the word “tourist.”

- Supermodels cannot be classified as "super" until passing a 2-month inspection process by the FDA.

- Newton's Fifth Law of Motion was about it not being "the size of the ship, but rather the motion of the ocean."

- Jarlsberg cheese contains only 2% jarls.

- Americans use enough plastic bags each year to carry the entire grocery store purchases of the United States’ population for 12 months.

- The only letter not represented in the Periodic Table of Elements is the letter “J” because it was sick that day.

- Orville Redenbacher rode to work every day in a one-man submarine/hydrofoil from the Sharper Image.

- The first coast-to-coast telephone call in 1914 transmitted the phrase “Yo, what up, sluts?”

- The top-selling blue jean color is “Andy Ross Piercing Eyes Blue.”

- Polar bears hate mummies and vice-versa.

- Hershey Kisses are named after the factory machine that seems to “kiss” them down onto the conveyor belt. They were originally called Hershey Bug Poops.

- Burlesque was invented at the hottest Miss America pageant on record.

- Only one in every three million people is truly left-handed. The rest are artsy fakers.

- The adult human body contains 206 bones and one Lego.

- Shakespeare invented the words “proactive,” “chocoholic,” and “jeggings.”

- The human brain is made up of 80% celeb gossip.

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Low Key – October 10, 2010

Posted on October 10, 2010

Earwhig

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Dealing With Stress

Posted on October 8, 2010

Everybody has a something that stresses them out--a trigger that makes them feel like the world's closing in around them. For instance, my trigger is everything.

However, you can move past your stress. When it feels like an invisible hand is squeezing your heart and you might dump in your pants (Everyone feels that way, right? It's not just me?) here are a few tips to help you de-stress:

- RELAX!!! Jesus Christ, it's just stress! Rub some dirt on it and get back in the game.

- Try breathing into a paper bag or dry cleaning bag taped around your neck.

- One part scotch, two parts ice.

- Put your head between your knees and have someone rub your back. Nobody too attractive, though, or that might make you more nervous.

- Go for a quiet walk. 12 to 15 miles oughta do it.

- Deconstruct exactly what it is that's making you anxious. Really wallow in a loop of thinking about why you're anxious.

- Concentrate on your breathing. It should be in then out. Never out then in!

- A pet can be very calming. My ferret, for instance, soothes me with its disgusting musk smell and biting.

- Jazzercise.

- Picture in your mind a peaceful, tropical island with a calm breeze. Alright, now let's imagine some rum and pirate treasure. And, I don't know, free HBO or something.

- Try a warm bath with scented candles and guilty masturbation.

- Make a list of all the things you can do to fix whatever is bothering you. Wow, look at all that stuff you should have done by now. Why didn't you do any of that? Well, it's too late now. That's a long list.

Good luck. If none of this works (Which it didn’t for me. I’m a wreck.) then Walgreens has a good deal on generic Pepto this week.

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Our Daughter’s Unique Name

Posted on October 7, 2010

When we named our daughter Juniper, we thought we had found something cute and unique. That is until the nurse said, "Oh, that's the third Juniper since Monday!"

My wife and I tried to move forward and enjoy being new parents, but something about it got under our skin. So, we went to the Social Security office to change Juniper's name to Manitoga, which in Algonquin means "Place of the Great Spirit." Well, wouldn't you know it? The couple ahead of us was changing their daughter's name to Manitoga.

We slumped away dejected. What did it say about us as parents that we couldn't find an adorable, unique name for our daughter that could also double as the name of a boutique eyewear shop?

Colleen was the first to snap out of it. She said we could always come up with the perfect nickname for little Juniper. How 'bout Button? No—too obvious. Begonia? No. Buckingham? We settled on Piggly-puggly-doo-dah.

"Piggly-puggly-doo-dah?!"

That's a quote, by the way. You might think it was shouted by Juniper's grandmother when she heard the awesome, unique nickname. Nope. It was a lady at the playground calling out for her son. Same exact nickname. Hearing that was literally the worst moment of my life.

I wanted to give up, lick my wounds, and drift into life as some average, uninteresting father. Someone doesn't take their baby into ironic dive bars. A father who doesn't buy onesies with tattoo iconography. A dad who doesn't even use the word "iconography" at all.

That's when I thought of it. Baby costumes. Yes, Juniper might have a boring name. Yes, her Piggly-puggly-doo-dah sobriquet might have been taken. But, could anyone else say they had a daughter named Juniper Ross, a.k.a. Piggly-puggly-doo-dah, who also only wears space cat costumes?

Turns out a guy on the Internet can. He has a Tumblr devoted to it. Every day he posts a picture of his baby daughter, Juniper "Piggly-puggly-doo-dah" Ross, holding up a drawing of that day's Internet meme while wearing a space cat outfit. Yesterday's meme was Lego ukuleles.

The world is a cruel and unforgiving place devoid of meaning or hope.

Also, Lego ukuleles? That's genius. I wish I had thought of that.

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Halloween Costume Ideas

Posted on October 6, 2010

costumes

I’ve spent all year hand-crafting my intricate Halloween costume, but I understand that some of you wait until the last minute/month. Listen, it’s not my place to judge. I leave that to the costume contest judges. But, if you are going to half-ass Halloween, at least make sure the ass is half full.

What do I mean by that? I don’t know. I just woke up groggy from an all-nighter at my sewing machine. The important thing is that my costume is going to be amazing. Yours should be, too.

Here are a few ideas for your Halloween costumes:

A Centaur Lady Gaga. Obvious, right? Well, here’s the twist: The front half is a horse, and only the butt and legs are Lady Gaga. It’ll be totally Lady Gaga of you to flip things around like that.

Vanpire. It’s a sexy minivan that sucks blood. Ooh, it’s so brooding.

Evil Smothers Brothers. In this version, Tom has the moustache and Dick doesn’t. That’s how you know they come from an alternate, evil Smothers Brothers dimension.

Pre-viz Avatar. Glue ping pong balls to a unitard and walk around giving constant exposition.

KGB Agents. Dress like a normal suburban couple, except clenching microfilm somewhere secret.

Snooooooki Crisps. The breakfast cereal version of the Jersey Shore cast member. I’m not sure how  you’d pull off the cereal part. That’s not my problem. I’m not the one who waited until the last minute. Goddammit, show some initiative!

Vehement, Speech-Giving Charlie Chaplin. Careful with this one.

Iron Man. This is where you show up in a white t-shirt holding a steam iron. That way, everyone has to ask you what your costume is, and you get to remain ironically aloof while still receiving  the attention you so desperately crave.

The Madhatter. I didn’t see this remake, but I’m betting you can just recycle your old Willy Wonka costume.

Steampunk/Lonely Dude. This is just a steampunk costume, but the subtext is that you’ve got too much time on your hands from a complete lack of social obligations.

Blood-Drenched Clown. Go ahead, be that guy at the party.

Flight Attendant Who Stays at His Job Because He Has a Solid Work Ethic. Won’t get as many laughs as the alternative, but at least it’s not super gross.

Slutty Bumblebee. It’s a classic.

That’s it. I hope those were helpful suggestions. I’d love to give you more, but I have to get back to carefully crafting my steampunk costume.

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My Handsomeness

Posted on October 5, 2010

Wait, am I going to keep getting handsomer and handsomer? Really? That doesn't seem right. Yet, every morning in the mirror, there's the proof staring back at my handsome face.

My laugh lines are getting laughier. And, my chiseled jawline has become more chiseled. I swear my smile twinkles with even more rakish charm than just last week. It has to level out at some point. Right? I mean … right?

Yet, I can't see any signs of my handsomeness slowing down. Here, look at this chart:

Handsomeness Index

See? There's a definite upturn in the last few years.

What happens if I never stop getting handsomer? At some point, my handsomeness might reach dangerous levels. Will these piercing blue eyes become too piercing? My lips too kissable? Will my nose become too noble, too regal? I worry … But, darn it, even these worried wrinkles make me look more pensively attractive!

Damn you, Fate, for making me your culminating masterpiece! DAMN YOU!!! The burden is too much to bear, even on these naturally broad shoulders—shoulders at once both masculine and comforting.

I’ve tried to slow the process of handsome-ifying. I changed my facial moisturizing regimen to every other day. I’ve bought store brand beard conditioner. I’ve allowed people to see me wearing my reading glasses. Nothing seems to work. The only thing that’s happened is that my handsomeness has morphed into rugged handsomeness.

Sigh.

I’m sorry. It seems there’s nothing I can do to stave off the inevitable. If you see me walking down the street, please avert you eyes. I don’t need your pity. Nor your wolf whistles.

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