Showing posts with label Vince and Andrew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vince and Andrew. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 25, 2025
Wednesday, April 2, 2025
Doppelgänger Time!
A first: a Melinda doppelgänger, complete with jean jacket!
Vince found "Hawaiian John Reid"
On an in-flight magazine I found giggly chef Andrew.
Here's Mike B's twin brother
Vince found "Italian John Reid" and captured him in both photo and in motion:
Friday, March 24, 2023
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Vince's DVD Drawer Was Thrilled
Vince's DVD Drawer was thrilled (submitted by Andrew).
Two toasters were pretty psyched, too.
Cardboard Backing was not as enthused.
Park Bench and Two Light Spots On The Pavement gritted his teeth and tried to muster up some enthusiasm about it.
Stress Sweat Graphic couldn't snap out of his funk, however.
Parking Meter knew everything was gonna work out okay.
Dangling Public Trashcan Lid was not as optimistic.
Sink Scrubber Holder grumbled that it didn't matter.
Two Razors laughed their asses off.
Theatre Holiday Lights smiled creepily from the back of the room.
Dozens of Apartment Vents sat in neutral silence.
Elevator Railing and Venting also held his tongue.
Weird Receipt Clip felt depressed, quite frankly.
Bus Tail Light was scared out of his mind.
Hallway Dumpster Hatch didn't feel a thing.
Ceiling Insulation and Piping also felt nothing.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Friday, December 16, 2011
BEANSNAPPERS
Andrew's been sending me shots of ads for this Wisconsin strip joint that he keeps seeing in Chicago. BEANSNAPPERS.
Beansnappers?! What the shit name is that? That either sounds like a farmer's market for kids or a painful procedure that you perform on a woman's clitoris in college.
No word on whether Andrew or Vince have actually been to Beansnappers yet. But it's only a matter of time, right?
Possible explanations for the name "Beansnappers:"
• The club originally started as a processing barn for a nearby farm which grew jumping beans. The jumping beans were often too active and "jumpy" for harvesters to handle and ship, so they had to let the beans "nap" in a quiet, dark barn. When the farm was foreclosed years later, this "beans napper" barn was eventually sold to a sleazy businessman who wanted to start a strip club.
• The original owner of the strip club was a woman named Gidelle Hargrove. She was keenly interested in reptiles and amphibians, particularly her snapping turtle. The club was named "Beantown," after Hargrove's native Boston. One day during the renovation of the club, some lumber fell and crushed her pet turtle to death. Distraught, Hargrove immediately ordered the sign be changed as a tribute to her pet, and "Beansnappers" was born.
• Back in the 70's, when drugs were given crazy names, pills in the Wisconsin area were commonly known as "beans." The strip club was run by the mafia, and strippers there had to pull double duty as both dancers and drug dealers. In their arrogance and hubris, the mafia brazenly named the club "Beansnappers," thinking the local police wouldn't catch on with the name. They did. The club was officially shut down for decades until it was resurrected by three local Mormon missionaries in 2003, who now run the club as a way to pay for bicycle maintenance.
Whatever the origin of that club's stupid name, it seems like they're doing fine with it. I did, however, find a more suitable name for them from a different business the other day:
Visit Beansnappers' website here, you cur.
Beansnappers?! What the shit name is that? That either sounds like a farmer's market for kids or a painful procedure that you perform on a woman's clitoris in college.
No word on whether Andrew or Vince have actually been to Beansnappers yet. But it's only a matter of time, right?
Possible explanations for the name "Beansnappers:"
• The club originally started as a processing barn for a nearby farm which grew jumping beans. The jumping beans were often too active and "jumpy" for harvesters to handle and ship, so they had to let the beans "nap" in a quiet, dark barn. When the farm was foreclosed years later, this "beans napper" barn was eventually sold to a sleazy businessman who wanted to start a strip club.
• The original owner of the strip club was a woman named Gidelle Hargrove. She was keenly interested in reptiles and amphibians, particularly her snapping turtle. The club was named "Beantown," after Hargrove's native Boston. One day during the renovation of the club, some lumber fell and crushed her pet turtle to death. Distraught, Hargrove immediately ordered the sign be changed as a tribute to her pet, and "Beansnappers" was born.
• Back in the 70's, when drugs were given crazy names, pills in the Wisconsin area were commonly known as "beans." The strip club was run by the mafia, and strippers there had to pull double duty as both dancers and drug dealers. In their arrogance and hubris, the mafia brazenly named the club "Beansnappers," thinking the local police wouldn't catch on with the name. They did. The club was officially shut down for decades until it was resurrected by three local Mormon missionaries in 2003, who now run the club as a way to pay for bicycle maintenance.
Whatever the origin of that club's stupid name, it seems like they're doing fine with it. I did, however, find a more suitable name for them from a different business the other day:
Visit Beansnappers' website here, you cur.
Friday, September 16, 2011
The Dove Body Language Messenger
Last night I downloaded the Dove Body Language Messenger, a free app on the iPhone App Store. What I thought would be some advanced technology that can read your friends' body language to read their emotions turned out to be a gimmicky "women making letters of the alphabet" branded sharable digital doodad.
Here's how it works: you type a message, and the ladies do fancy yoga poses that eventually spell out what you typed. Wow! Cool neato, right? I can't believe this app is free!!!!!!
The catch is, you can't type "FUCK" or "SHIT" or "COCK" or anything fun, because otherwise you get gently scolded by the app:
Alright, then. Challenge accepted. Type something offensive or funny to my friends without using the standard four-letter expletives. I spent the next hour last night typing up messages and emailing them to Andrew, Vince, and Brad Harvey. Here is a sampling:
You can download this unintentionally hilarious app here.
Here's how it works: you type a message, and the ladies do fancy yoga poses that eventually spell out what you typed. Wow! Cool neato, right? I can't believe this app is free!!!!!!
The catch is, you can't type "FUCK" or "SHIT" or "COCK" or anything fun, because otherwise you get gently scolded by the app:
Alright, then. Challenge accepted. Type something offensive or funny to my friends without using the standard four-letter expletives. I spent the next hour last night typing up messages and emailing them to Andrew, Vince, and Brad Harvey. Here is a sampling:
You can download this unintentionally hilarious app here.
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