The ULTRA Secret Diary of Crackers Daiquiri

When I grow up...

2009-07-13T21:14:00.002-04:00

I've finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. A movie quote whore.

Here's my movie quote for Die Hard 4: This movie takes payment in explosions and it only gives out change in machine gun fire.

That's right, movie company -- you're free to use that on the back of your packaging. Just make sure you get my name right. It's Anne Cope, Panda Massage Press.

Transformers 2 -- It's the most transforminating movie ever. I makes me want to shoot rockets out my nipples just like that one robot that looked like all the other robots. -- Anne Cope, The Experimental Bingoer Monthly.

Bruno -- It didn't make me vomit out my eyeballs, but it did make me wish I was a lamprey eel. -- Anne Cope, The Avuncular Examiner

The Proposal -- If Sandra Bullock was anymore adorable, I'd stab myself in the neck with a garden trowel. -- Anne Cope, Daily Egret Liberator Monthly.

Imagine That -- This movie reminds me of when Eddie Murphy was funny, and then it makes me remember that he hasn't been for years. And then I weep a little. -- Anne Cope, Ferrets, Ferrets Ferrets: A Magazine About Ferrets.

Land of the Lost -- It's just about stupid enough to fool my cat into thinking it's funny. That's right. Tama gave this movie four paws and zero balls UP! -- Anne Cope, The Eurotastic Journal of Creams and Unguents.

I seriously think I have a shot at this!

Secrets

2009-06-14T14:57:00.003-04:00

When I was younger, I totally had a crush on Young Sherlock Holmes.

For those of you who don't know... Holmes is the tall one, not the short, bespectacled one. That's Watson. Nobody likes Watson.

Seriously... you guys... I love you. No, really. I love you.

2009-05-28T22:30:00.001-04:00

You guys... I'm feeling it today.

Seriously.

I'm gonna take it down a notch. Someone, can you get the spotlight?

*cue cheesy piano*

You know, there comes a time in our lives when we realize how lucky we are. We've lived our lives. Eaten jell-o. Made a sculpture from mashed potatoes and then you realize that... it means something. It's important...

Yeah... just like that.

And when you get to sculpting mashed potatoes and you have your carb filled epiphany... you gotta reach out. Reach out and touch other people. They may be really short with weird heads (that sort of look like potatoes... don't tell them about your sculpture, FYI) and strange and into lighting panels of lights up and Casio keyboard noodling. It's okay. Share with them. You may or may not want to go up on their UFO. Ask Chris Hansen before you do. He can go in ahead of you and check for people who might need to have a seat right over there.

My point is... whether it's weird looking aliens or anthropomorphic dog people or a monster made of living rock or Teletubbies or Raptor Jesus... we're all just people. And people deserved to be loved -- so, I have to say this... I love you. All of you. From the bottom of my heart, with 100% sincerity, without even a TRACE of irony... I love you all. No matter where you read this. No matter who reads this. I love you.

You can be real life friends, family, the hubs. You can be dear internets friends I've known forever. New internets friends. People who just randomly friended me for Facebook games or on LJ because we both like Sailor Moon. Even strangers who just wandered in because they were looking for porn and accidentally found this blog instead. Sorry about that, btw.

I love you. Too often on the internets and in real life, we focus on the wrong things. So, I'm giving everyone, everywhere a little e-hugg and a little e-love. Because I love you -- all of you.

Don't look so mad, Christopher Walken. I love you too.

That's better.

A Critical Re-thinking of the 19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY

2008-06-04T21:53:00.003-04:00

So, I got one of those stupid email chain thingies in my work email that seem to proliferate like cybernetic bunnies. It was the "19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY" and because I yam what I yam, I feel as if I must explore this idea until it reaches its ultimate stupidity. Here goes.

Okay, first way to maintain a healthy level of insanity...

1. At lunchtime, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on while pointing a hair dryer at passing vehicles. See if they slow down.

This is actually pretty funny when you think about. So funny that I almost want to try it out sometime. So far so good, list of "19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY".

2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

Also hilarious, and highly recommended. (A co-worker did this once when I worked at Frank's. The reaction it got was EXCELLENT.)

3. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.

Hilarious... this one has the potential to be REALLY irritating, which makes it at least 10% better (and therefore funnier) than the first two on the list.

4. Put your garbage can on your desk and label it 'IN'.

Not funny, list of "19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY". Not funny at all. People who regularly read "Ziggy" or perhaps "Blondie" might find this funny, but those of us who have souls emphatically do not.

5. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over his or her caffeine addictions, switch to expresso.

This one is downright impractical. First of all, real espresso is made with an espresso machine, not on a regular coffee machine. Plus, there are just far too many uncontrollable factors to make this practical. Not to mention espresso is spelled wrong. Bad list of "19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY"! BAD! Next.

6. In the memo field of all your checks write: "For smuggling diamonds".

Funny, but potentially dangerous if an over-zealous member of a bank's proof department were to take it seriously and hand it over to bank protection. And take it from someone who knows, you DO NOT want to rouse their suspicions, for they are almighty and merciless -- like Wagnerian Valkyries... without the anti-Semitism.

7. Finish all your sentences with: "...in accordance with prophecy."

Pretty funny... though I guarantee it'd be at least 20% funnier, if not more, were you to say: "...in accordance with biblical prophecy." It's far more ominous, and, as we all know, ominous = funny.

8. Don't use any punctuation.

This may or may not be funny depending on circumstance.

Funny: Not using any punctuation while you speak -- this would mean that there would be no pauses for thought, no indication where one idea ends and the other begins. No customary interrogative lilt at the end of a question. No exclamations. No pauses in your speech. You'd just speak in long, never-ending sentences. The results would be kinda funny, though you'd really have to practice to get it right.

Not funny: At all. Not punctuating your writing properly. Too much of this goes on already and it drives me fucking nuts. I love the English language dearly, and though I'm far from perfect, I respect the language I speak enough to try my damnedest to give it my best effort. Lazy, L33t speaking, fucking text messaging bastards have raped the mighty eloquence of the written word for long enough -- DO NOT ENCOURAGE THEM.

9. As often as possible skip rather than walk.

Eh. I guess it's funny, plus you'll get a bit of a workout as well. Good on you, list of "19 WAYS TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY"!

10. Order diet water whenever you go out to eat -- with a serious face.

Oh, this is a good one, especially if you can keep a straight face. I'd totally choke -- I've got a terrible poker face.

11. Specify that your drive-through order is "to go".

Not really funny so much as annoying. It feels like something the folks at "Jackass" would do while leering into a fish-eye camera and giggling. No thank you.

12. Sing along at the opera.

Also annoying. Not funny at all. Plus, it has the potential for real world consequences. Like getting kicked out of the opera house, and considering the cost of opera tickets... not a good idea. Unless, of course, you're a billionaire playboy douche bag.

13. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all day during working hours.

This would be pretty hilarious... but only if you have a fairly understanding boss who got the joke. Also, I'd add a cornucopia of tropical plants, a stuffed parrot (as in a formerly alive parrot that would be pushing up the daisies were it not nailed to its perch) and a small black cat -- and should anyone ask about the cat, insist that it's a panther and its name is Bagheera, making sure to be really insulted at the very notion of your lithe and dangerous jungle predator being mistaken for a small, harmless house-cat.

14. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.

First of all, there is no such thing as a poetry recital. I know because my father IS a poet and I've been to poetry READINGS. Recitals are for children's dance troupes and those involved in any kind of classical music training. Secondly, while poetry readings, at times, can be a bit boring, you insult the poets and yourself by asking such a patently ignorant question. You might as well tattoo: "I am an uneducated moron. Please, do the world a favor and kill me before I reproduce" on your forehead before trying this one.

And if you don't understand why this isn't funny, do me just one favor. Stand up. Walk to the nearest wall. Make sure it's nice and hard, and then pound your fucking head into it until it isn't funny anymore -- that is if you don't pass out from blood loss or the inevitable brain damage first.

15. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you're not in the mood.

Dude, this is a total dick move. If a friend of mine did this, I'd drive to their house, punch them in the nuts and never call them again. Not funny at all. Just plain douche bag-ry.

16. Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name: Rock Bottom.

This has the potential for real hilarity if you could get your co-workers to go along with it. It'd be 50% funnier if you used something a bit more off-the-wall, like: Huge McBiglarge or Beefington Steel or Slab Hamfist.

17. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream: "I WON! I WON!"

Pretty fucking funny. Especially if you manage to do it in a really crowded area.

18. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot yelling: "RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THEY'RE LOOSE!"

Funny, but inadvisable. For one, you could cause a panic, and considering how litigious people are nowadays... well, it's just not a good idea.

19. Tell your children over dinner: "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go".

This only works if you have children, of course. But it is pretty funny.

Scarring-your-child-for-the-rest-of-their-natural-lives-funny, but funny none the less. And really, what's a few scars here and there? I mean, sure, I've never been able to go to the dentist without having a mild panic attack ever since my dad told me they'd pull out all my teeth with a rusty pair of pliers when I was five... but it was all in good fun. Really, it was. Incidentally, my father actually did tell me that... and I do get a bit nervous whenever I go to the dentist to this day. Good times. Good times.

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure... REDUX!

2008-03-28T21:16:00.000-04:00

So, last weekend we watched Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. It's been a good ten years since I last saw it. There's a funny kind of anxiety one has when given the opportunity to re-watch a favorite movie from your childhood.

Okay, okay, technically, Bill and Ted was a favorite of mine from when I was a teenager. Still, I was awful young. And sometimes movies you thought funnier than hell when you were sixteen turn out to be BEYOND dreadful when revisited. I found this out with Weekend at Bernie's. At the time, I thought this was the funniest damn movie EVER. Then again, I was fifteen/sixteen, so what the hell did I know? I mean, I was a huge Debbie Gibson fan back then. DEBBIE FUCKING GIBSON!! (If you saw my hair from that period, you'd understand.)

Anyway, I was nervous about watching Bill and Ted, because I was afraid it'd be another Weekend at Bernie's -- where I'd rewatch it and find, to my horror, that the movie that had such a warm, sentimental place in my heart was fucking awful. (Like I should be THAT surprised that Weekend at Bernie's sucked... I mean, COME ON ME!! It's Weekend at Bernie's.)

Well, I rewatched it and was pleasantly surprised. While it IS a pretty dumb movie, you can't help but love it for being just so damn quirky and weird that anything vaguely dumb about it can be excused and loved all over again.

Aw! I love you, Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure!!!

If I ever have kids and they ask what the late '80s/early '90s were like, I'll show them this movie.

Of course, thinking about Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure brings back memories of the NES promotional tie-in video game by the same name. Well, mostly the same name. It was called Bill and Ted's Excellent VIDEO GAME Adventure. Whatevs.

The fact remains, that like ALL movie tie-in games, it sucked ass.

In the game, you were tasked by Rufus to go out and find a list of Historical Figures.

Here's the wiki-article explaining the point of the game. Go ahead, I'll wait. EXPLAIN THIS BILL AND TED OF WHICH YOU SPEAK!!

Now, reading that little explanation might get you to thinking that the game was kind of cool. It wasn't. It sucked. You spent most your time wandering around a screen that pretty much had NO landmarks. So, you have no idea where you're going and you spend an awful lot of time going in circles because one screen looks so damn much like the other. If you were lucky, you might stumble upon the occasional "helpful" NPC. They were supposed to give you hints that'd help you.

They didn't.

You just spent more time wandering around aimlessly, your eyes bleeding from hours of staring at your television screen. The afterimage of the game's monotonous scenery forever burned into your retinas.

Sometimes, when the stars and the moon aligned, you'd actually stumble into an area with a historical figure in it. But historical figures are rare and wily animals. They won't just walk around in the open like normal people, going about their daily business as historical figures. NO! They hide like little bunny rabbits. So you have to lure them out with, get this, HISTORICAL FIGURE BAIT!!

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah. Historical figure bait. Like they're fish.

"Hey, there, Earl. I hooked me William Howard Taft! Git the big net!"

Taft was fat...

Original image found here: U.S. President's Page

So, you'd come into an area with a historical figure. I forget how those areas were different from others. Most of my memory of this game has been repressed for my own good. Anyway, there'd be a music blip or some kind of screen note, and you were supposed to drop your bait and lie in wait, preparing for possible historical figure capture-age.

Never happened.

You'd put the damn bait down and pretty much nothing happened. If you didn't move away fast enough you'd scare them away or they'd steal your 'effing bait and you were screwed. Then an in-game message would pop up and taunt you. HA! HA! YOU WEREN'T FAST ENOUGH, LOSER! YOU SUCK!

And then you'd cry: "YEAH, FUCK YOU GAME!" And then maybe you'd weep a little.

I think I only got close to capturing one historical figure before I got frustrated and gave up.

Now, usually, my video game frustrations can be blamed on my own impatience. I had an unfortunate temper tantrum the first time I played Chrono Trigger, because I sped through without leveling up and tried to beat the final boss with less than half of my spells and abilities learned. I was setting myself up for failure.

But this time, it was SO not my fault. My best friend (at the time) and I tried for four fruitless hours trying desperately to pull some fun out of this joyless little game. All I got out of it was a vicious migraine and the desire to monkey punch whatever idiot programmed the damn thing.

Such is life, I suppose.

What was I saying...

2008-01-25T22:57:00.000-05:00

Normally, I have something to say when I come to this blog, but right now, not so much. I got nothing, George.

I suppose I could go on and on about the state of the world today. It really is f-ed up. But I'm too tired and full of crackers and 7-up. I haven't eaten anything that isn't crackers since yesterday. (This is total hyperbole. I ate some Chinese tonight and it hasn't come up yet. I'm considering this a win for me and my stomach.)

I'd write more, but I'm figuring I'm the only one who gives a damn about my health. (Even though I completely enjoy bitching about it... it's like I'm eighty or something. In fact, think about that. If I'm that interested now, at 33, how bad will it be when I'm actually eighty? Hmmm, scary.)

Wugga.

As an old standby, I think I'll post the following picture to horrify and amuse you:

This picture is pretty much my standard when I have nothing else to talk about. I drew this a few years ago -- when I was really tired. Like, sleep deprived kind of tired. It made sense at the time.

Does it do anything for you? No?? Okay... what about this?

I drew this on the sketch thing at Facebook. Frankly, I think it's pretty hilarious. No one else agreed. The fools.

This I made for a post at Nutang -- another blog *snicker* community I belong to. The post and this picture were made in response to a car I saw driving next to me on the way home from work one day. The guy was driving, I kid you not, a Ford Lincoln circa 1970 -- all "pimped" -- with extra big wheels. And I'm serious when I say this, no hyperbole at all, that this is EXACTLY what it looked like. It was the stupidest fucking thing I'd ever seen. And I've seen a lot of stupid things in my short life. Once again, the post didn't get the laughs I'd hoped.

Oh well. I guess I'm just unappreciated in my time.

I bitch and rant about nothing. IGNORE ME!!

2006-09-15T19:51:00.001-04:00

Well, I changed the look of this journal again, just because I can.

I should be working on other things but I'm not.

I don't even know why I continue to write here... or anywhere else really. How many people really are all that interested in my prattling? I suppose if I posted random stupid stuff, maybe more people would pay attention to me.

Perhaps if I pretended to be an angst ridden teenage girl, who occasionally did stupid shit on a web cam, maybe then the whole world would notice. Alas, I am not stupid, I'm not a teenager -- thank god -- and I don't really give a shit what all you prats think anyway.

Don't like my pseudo-intellectual ramblings.

I hope a bear eats your cheesecake anyway.

So there.

And if I were an annoying, attention seeking jackass, I'd post a picture of my big, hairy bum.

That'd learn ya.

Also, I got an account over at Xanga and some freaky religious nut commented on my post. (I re-posted my yogi bear rant there, evidently the bloke took me serious. What a noob.)

Which leads me to my next point. Religion and the Internet together scare me. Deeply.

In fact, any extremist factions, whether they be religious or just plain political, on the Internet, where they can reach so many more people, SCARY. Because I've found that this world is 90% idiots and they are just waiting -- WAITING -- for some Svengali to feed them a line of bullshit so large they can't see it until they're knee deep in it and by then it's too late anyway.

Also, I am amazed by the crap you can find out via the Internet.

Yesterday, I got bored and went to the Scientology website.

Go there sometime if you're bored and want to be scared/horrified/amused beyond reason.

OH! L. RON HUBBARD, COVER ME IN YOUR GLORIOUS SPACE GOO!!

Anyway, they had a thing there for a free personality test. So, thinking it was like other tests, I clicked. To my dawning horror, I realized they were asking a lot of personal information.

A LOT... of personal information. Too much, really.

Spooked, I decided to outright lie because I just wanted to take what I thought was an online personality quiz.

Using the Internets, I concocted a phony address in Wisconsin of all places. I managed to find a street address, zip, and area code. I also made up a phone number that would be similar to other phone numbers found in the Little Chute area (this was the city I'd chosen to reside in at my fake address. WHEE!)

Incidentally, I also looked up all the John Smiths in Little Chute. I'd make a comment on this, only I don't want to get sued for posting some one's addy because Internet geeks....are, well, Internet geeks...and they'd probably write John Smiths letters or phone them or something. And that'd just be a terrible hardship and an interruption of the John Smith's lives.

Anyway. So, in doing my crazy, freaky research, I found that Little Chute has its own web page.

Check it out!!

Little Chute, WI

You can also visit the homepage of Little Chute's High School.

LCHS, Home of the MUSTANGS!

(It should be noted that the above link no longer works. Sad Anne. I guess LCHS just didn't need its own website anymore.)

I could go on and on with this. Really.

If you're from Little Chute, you have a very nice looking little town there. I'm sorry I tried to use it for an Internet Scientology scam.

If it helps, it didn't work out. It seems when they say online personality test, they mean, give us your name and address and we'll set you up with an interview with a local Scientology sect so that we may better indoctrinate you.

And that pretty much ended my not very well thought out and clumsily executed Internet scam/prank.

Damn, and it woulda been funny too...

I'm trying very hard to not be paranoid...but it's not working...

2006-09-13T21:07:00.000-04:00

I thought about reposting my Yogi Bear post over at Livejournal...but the amount of work it'd take to reformat everything seriously hurts my head.

I'm liking the new eblogger better than the old one. It was hella hard to figure out how to post the damn thing...now it's slightly easier.

Also...liking the new templates A LOT better.

Though I wish I could change the color of the dots. C'est la vie, no?

The next improvement they need to make is friending...and stuff. Because...just because.

Anyway. Here's another image to sear your soul.

Enjoy!!

That's right...I like herons.

I'm not crazy, I just hate that fucking song

2006-02-22T19:10:00.000-05:00

I've thought that maybe I should be posting stuff here more, but that would require me to care.

Here's a picture of a horrible old woman--

How d'ya like that? Do anything for ya? No?

Well, okay then. I guess you're just a bunch of hard to please bastards.

Screw you and the Jesus you rode in on.

Fuckers.

...Yeah. I hate this journal...

2005-07-12T19:25:00.000-04:00

Hmmm. I hate this place already. Interesting. I was going to try and start the audioblogger thing but several things stopped me. The first being, apparently audioblogger.com is being freaky. The second being, anything that uses the word 'blogger' seems sinister to me. There's something awful and patronizing about being a blogger. It's a stupid word.

Scratch that. It's not even a word. It's fricking slang. Stupid, pointless slang. I feel like every time I say it that a piece of my immortal soul dies. Or maybe someone else's soul dies. I'll get back to you on that when I know for sure. Either way, blogger..blogging...the blogs. It's just ridiculous and goofy.

It's the kind of thing you look back on ten to twenty years later and just cringe. And you ask yourself, whilst weeping quietly: "Did I really call myself and others...bloggers? Did I use that slang? GOD! What was I thinking!!??"

It's like waking up five years later to discover pictures of yourself with bad 80's hair, wearing a fluorescent tube top while downing a bottle of Bartles and James. You look at that picture and think: "MAN! That was me... God damn... God damn..."

And there's nothing you can do to rectify that mistake. No way you can deny the veracity of that one, horrible picture. Sure, you can burn the photo and its negative, but it still existed. It still existed and someone had to take those photos, and THEY'LL REMEMBER! Oh, yes. They will. And they will remind you of your shame every moment they can... and they will laugh.

So, in the end, while I may, indeed, be blogging on this horrible blog site. That doesn't me that I think of myself as a blogger. Nor do I advocate the use of such an irrefutable goofy and just plain stupid piece of slang. And never, never will I say: I'm gonna write in my blog. Or... I'm blogging right now. What's your blog? I won't use that word. I won't.

...Where was I?

Hn.