Yes, folks, just like ordering anybody or anything from Craig's and Angie's Lists, you can pay a website to connect you with a male, female or gay person to cuddle and caress. BUT NO KISSING! And certainly no sex, God forbid. This website doesn't have hermaphrodites either. For shame.
In this day and age of instant gratification (one touch on the computer will reveal 234,000,000 possibles in .05 seconds), we are all overwhelmed by the enormity of digital electronics and fiber optics. Then there are the "menus" when you call a company. After wearing you down with extension numbers to reach, there is a beep for leaving a message. The robot signs off by saying, "Have a nice day. Call back again during our business hours. Thank you."
Frustration sets in. You want to talk to a human being. Maybe open the window and shout out to strangers below, I'M MAD AS HELL AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANY LONGER! Where is Paddy Whatshisname when we need him? More than ever now. Just pass the Prozac. Smoke a weed and have a drink. We're all trapped into this web of gobbledygook. And there's no escape!
Here are some of the questions asked of people seeking someone to cuddle:
1. What is your real name?
2. Where do you live?
3 How do you live?
4. Why do you live?
5. Describe your last meal if you are to be executed in the morning.
6. Your favorite puppy is dangling from a very high cliff in your right hand; your BFF in the left. Which one would you save from dropping?
7. Have you ever been arrested? Why?
8. What is the dumbest thing you ever did?
9. If you had your life to live over again, whom would you be?
10. Name your favorite drink.
ll. What sort of job do you have?
12. Have you ever been fired? Why?
13. If your boss called you an idiot, what would you say?
14. How do you like these questions so far?
15. What is your present salary?
16. How little do you declare on your Income Tax Return?
17. Do you stutter, whimper or belch easily?
18. True or False. Castration is a form of government in Cuba.
NOTE: YOU HAVE PROBABLY FAILED THIS TEST. TRY AGAIN IN SIX MONTHS.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Saturday, May 23, 2015
What's wrong with French, Italian or German?
Why do we only hear Spanish when calling a company office? I mean, English is obviously more wide spread. BTW I'm sick and tired hearing a voice say "Hi, I'm Chester, can I help you?" But Chester sounds Spanish and is probably an outsourcer in Manila. You're right. He is! And I soon learn his real name is Pedro. But he went to school for a week and learned some English and received a new name. Thanks a lot A.T.& T., IBM and a few other thousand companies!
I am not a racist (I once closed down a restaurant in Columbus,OH when they refused to serve an African American customer because he had a black skin and, as the manager said, "our other white customers would be offended." Four days of picketing and they went out of business). Then I began receiving hate calls and threats on my life. All cowards and scumbags. They wouldn't know how to strangle a snake as it wound around and around their necks.
But back to this language thing. Why don't USA companies trying to save money by hiring foreigners to stay in their own country and pretend to be American citizens utilize Italy, France and Germany? As our population continues to explode, they will call on those folks overseas in a hundred countries willing to work for $6 an hour. Disney does not have a monopoly on this strategy!
Another bummer on the phone is trying to attract a human being. Every company has a robot to answer the phone, and you have a choice of only two languages: English or Spanish. What about adding German, Italian, French, Greek, Farsi, Creole, Dutch, Swedish, Danish and even Polish?
I'm not too keen about Dutch. The last time I was in Amsterdam with my good friend, Paul Hiatt, everyone seemed to be riding bicycles. In fact, I almost got toppled by one that rushed by me at 30 mpr. When I sat on one, only one of my cheeks would fit on the seat (no pun intended) and after an hour I had a sore butt. Obviously, the manufacturers of bicycle seats must be in collusion with the makers of Preparation H.
One final beef. FedEx is over extended with their robots. They answer telephones only in English or Spanish (shame on them!). They must have someone who speaks Hebrew. And when the idiot robot asks you a question, you have to give one of his answers that are repeated as though you are a four-year-old kid. If you change one word of your own, the robot whips you over to an insipid menu. More frustration. FedEx can take a long walk on a short pier. I'm sticking with USPS!
I am not a racist (I once closed down a restaurant in Columbus,OH when they refused to serve an African American customer because he had a black skin and, as the manager said, "our other white customers would be offended." Four days of picketing and they went out of business). Then I began receiving hate calls and threats on my life. All cowards and scumbags. They wouldn't know how to strangle a snake as it wound around and around their necks.
But back to this language thing. Why don't USA companies trying to save money by hiring foreigners to stay in their own country and pretend to be American citizens utilize Italy, France and Germany? As our population continues to explode, they will call on those folks overseas in a hundred countries willing to work for $6 an hour. Disney does not have a monopoly on this strategy!
Another bummer on the phone is trying to attract a human being. Every company has a robot to answer the phone, and you have a choice of only two languages: English or Spanish. What about adding German, Italian, French, Greek, Farsi, Creole, Dutch, Swedish, Danish and even Polish?
I'm not too keen about Dutch. The last time I was in Amsterdam with my good friend, Paul Hiatt, everyone seemed to be riding bicycles. In fact, I almost got toppled by one that rushed by me at 30 mpr. When I sat on one, only one of my cheeks would fit on the seat (no pun intended) and after an hour I had a sore butt. Obviously, the manufacturers of bicycle seats must be in collusion with the makers of Preparation H.
One final beef. FedEx is over extended with their robots. They answer telephones only in English or Spanish (shame on them!). They must have someone who speaks Hebrew. And when the idiot robot asks you a question, you have to give one of his answers that are repeated as though you are a four-year-old kid. If you change one word of your own, the robot whips you over to an insipid menu. More frustration. FedEx can take a long walk on a short pier. I'm sticking with USPS!
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Did Walter Cronkite ever broadcast fiction as fact?
Oh yes he did during the early 60's on his nightly network CBS-TV news show. The subject matter was "clothing naked animals for the sake of decency, namely all horses, cows, dogs, cats and any animal standing taller than 4 inches or longer than 6 inches." And that was my mantra 1955-63!
Walter Cronkite sat stoically silent along side G. Clifford Prout, President of SINA, the Society for Indecency to Naked Animals (a/k/a Buck Henry "The Graduate") spewed out the material I had written: "......those cows and bulls are not grazing. They are hanging their heads in shame because they are naked. That's why SINA has declared the New Jersey Turnpike a moral disaster area!"
Prout/Buck then reached down and picked up his ukelele, playing and singing the SINA Marching Song: "Wings of Decency"
High on the wings of SINA
We fight for the future now
Let's clothe every pet and animal
Whether dog, cat, horse or cow.
G. Cliford Prout our President
He works for you and me
So clothe all your pets and
Join the march for world wide decency.
S-I-N-A that's our call
All for one and one for all
Hoist our flag for all to see
Waving for morality.
Onward we stride together
Stronger in everyway
All mankind and his animal friends
For SINA, S-I-N-A.
When Prout completed this seven minutes of satire, the switchboard lit up like a Christmas tree. All the callers recognized Buck Henry immediately from "Saturday Night Live" and knew he was playing a superb prank on the venerable Walter Kronkite. At that time, Buck was actually a writer for the popular CBS-TV daytime Garry Moore Show. But Kronkite didn't have a clue about that!
However, thereafter he occasionally kicked the furniture around in his office, disgusted at being so taken in by an employee of his very own network. And to his dying day, Walter Cronkite told friends he remained angry. He wasn't mad at Hitler, Mussolini, Khadafy, Castro or Hussain. Only two clowns named Buck Henry and Alan Abel.
Walter Cronkite sat stoically silent along side G. Clifford Prout, President of SINA, the Society for Indecency to Naked Animals (a/k/a Buck Henry "The Graduate") spewed out the material I had written: "......those cows and bulls are not grazing. They are hanging their heads in shame because they are naked. That's why SINA has declared the New Jersey Turnpike a moral disaster area!"
Prout/Buck then reached down and picked up his ukelele, playing and singing the SINA Marching Song: "Wings of Decency"
High on the wings of SINA
We fight for the future now
Let's clothe every pet and animal
Whether dog, cat, horse or cow.
G. Cliford Prout our President
He works for you and me
So clothe all your pets and
Join the march for world wide decency.
S-I-N-A that's our call
All for one and one for all
Hoist our flag for all to see
Waving for morality.
Onward we stride together
Stronger in everyway
All mankind and his animal friends
For SINA, S-I-N-A.
When Prout completed this seven minutes of satire, the switchboard lit up like a Christmas tree. All the callers recognized Buck Henry immediately from "Saturday Night Live" and knew he was playing a superb prank on the venerable Walter Kronkite. At that time, Buck was actually a writer for the popular CBS-TV daytime Garry Moore Show. But Kronkite didn't have a clue about that!
However, thereafter he occasionally kicked the furniture around in his office, disgusted at being so taken in by an employee of his very own network. And to his dying day, Walter Cronkite told friends he remained angry. He wasn't mad at Hitler, Mussolini, Khadafy, Castro or Hussain. Only two clowns named Buck Henry and Alan Abel.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Is David Letterman a Schmuck?
Well, it all depends. I've been on an elevator with him and, although he knew me, Letterman refused to talk. In fact he just plain ignored me. That's a schmuck! I remember the time Buck Henry was with his close buddy, George Manos, and Buck met Michael Fuchs at a TV function. Fuchs, then the CEO of HBO, refused to accept Manos' extended hand, ignored him, had a brief conversation with Buck and departed. Fuchs is also a schmuck!
A few years ago, when I had two tickets to Letterman's TV show at the Ed Sullivan Theater, I sent two actor friends, Shel and Sara. Letterman's guest for the entire program was tennis pro Andre Agassi. Shel and Sara sat in the front row very close to the stage. He was a very talented guy who spoke Farsi, Greek and English of course. Sara would just oh and ah, because they were going to pretend to have sex!
As David and Andre conversed, my amorous couple assumed the 69 position. She was on top of him in his seat groaning with pleasure. Suddenly, people in the audience were standing to watch in disbelief. Letterman got up, walked to the edge of the stage, shaded his eyes from the overhead lights and wondered what was happening. He couldn't quite make it out, but continued his conversation going back to his throne.
Meantime, as the audience members whispered and talked about the action in the first row, ushers and security guards were in a huddle. Four of them rushed down to Shel and Sara. She had her dress up around her breasts and revealed pink panties. They were steaming and I mean steaming! The staff tried to grab Sara but she held on tight to her lover and they continued simulating intercourse. The theater was experiencing total mayhem.
Shel spoke in Farsi: "please leave us alone. We're having sex." One of the ushers from Israel understood Farsi and replied, "sir, you must stop this immediately! You two are disrupting the show!"
As Sara became more aggressive in her movements, Shel spoke next in Greek: "I can't stop. I am about to have an orgasm!" None of the staff understood what he said. That didn't matter. Letterman was beginning to fumble with his questions to Agassi. The taping went to a commercial. And the audience cheered, laughed, applauded and stomped their feet. What a happening for them!
More staff members appeared down front and physically carried both Shel and Sara up the aisle to the Exit Doors. Then the two lovers were deposited outside the theater on the sidewalk. I greeted them at my suite in the Milford-Plaza Hotel where dinner was waiting for the three of us. They were so hyped and excited over their successful prank they couldn't stop laughing. Tears flowed as I joined in this celebration of sorts.
When the show aired that night there was some editing, but not much. Letterman still wore his white socks and pretended that nothing unusual had happened during his show. Hmmmm. I still think he is a schmuck.
A few years ago, when I had two tickets to Letterman's TV show at the Ed Sullivan Theater, I sent two actor friends, Shel and Sara. Letterman's guest for the entire program was tennis pro Andre Agassi. Shel and Sara sat in the front row very close to the stage. He was a very talented guy who spoke Farsi, Greek and English of course. Sara would just oh and ah, because they were going to pretend to have sex!
As David and Andre conversed, my amorous couple assumed the 69 position. She was on top of him in his seat groaning with pleasure. Suddenly, people in the audience were standing to watch in disbelief. Letterman got up, walked to the edge of the stage, shaded his eyes from the overhead lights and wondered what was happening. He couldn't quite make it out, but continued his conversation going back to his throne.
Meantime, as the audience members whispered and talked about the action in the first row, ushers and security guards were in a huddle. Four of them rushed down to Shel and Sara. She had her dress up around her breasts and revealed pink panties. They were steaming and I mean steaming! The staff tried to grab Sara but she held on tight to her lover and they continued simulating intercourse. The theater was experiencing total mayhem.
Shel spoke in Farsi: "please leave us alone. We're having sex." One of the ushers from Israel understood Farsi and replied, "sir, you must stop this immediately! You two are disrupting the show!"
As Sara became more aggressive in her movements, Shel spoke next in Greek: "I can't stop. I am about to have an orgasm!" None of the staff understood what he said. That didn't matter. Letterman was beginning to fumble with his questions to Agassi. The taping went to a commercial. And the audience cheered, laughed, applauded and stomped their feet. What a happening for them!
More staff members appeared down front and physically carried both Shel and Sara up the aisle to the Exit Doors. Then the two lovers were deposited outside the theater on the sidewalk. I greeted them at my suite in the Milford-Plaza Hotel where dinner was waiting for the three of us. They were so hyped and excited over their successful prank they couldn't stop laughing. Tears flowed as I joined in this celebration of sorts.
When the show aired that night there was some editing, but not much. Letterman still wore his white socks and pretended that nothing unusual had happened during his show. Hmmmm. I still think he is a schmuck.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
How could David Goldberg die so young at 49?
I was stunned to read that this entrepreneur worth two billion had fallen on a treadmill and lay unconscious while bleeding to certain death at a five star resort hotel in the South Pacific. It was only 4 pm in the afternoon when he began treading. Where were other treaders? Nobody else around to revive him? Where were hotel or his personal security guards? NOBODY WAS AROUND!!!
There has to be an explanation. Goldberg had donated substantial funds to President Obama's campaign and visited the White House with his wife. Even former President Clinton had Secret Service agents within hailing distance when he was testing Monica Lewinsky's body parts with a cigar. I was shockedwhen Mark Zuckerberg said on "60 Minutes" that he walked to his office from his apartment. Every terrorist in the world could track him and arrange for a kidnapping/ransom scenario.
So perhaps David Goldberg had let his guard down and was the victim of a kidnapping-for-ransom plot that failed. He may have fought back and ended up falling on his head off the treadmill. Or worse, the kidnappers banged him around, panicked, left him bleeding and ran off to their hovels. All that sounds plausable. But will we ever know? Was there a medical exam before the speedy burial? No news is bad news to me!
I find it difficult to believe that the sudden death of David Goldberg was the result of him losing his balance on a treadmill in the afternoon at a fancy upscale resort hotel all alone. Even Warren Buffet or Bill Gates would have some sort of electronic device to summon help.
Well, maybe the body will be exhumed and an examination reveal torture bruises and open up a kind of scenario I described. Let's hope so!
There has to be an explanation. Goldberg had donated substantial funds to President Obama's campaign and visited the White House with his wife. Even former President Clinton had Secret Service agents within hailing distance when he was testing Monica Lewinsky's body parts with a cigar. I was shockedwhen Mark Zuckerberg said on "60 Minutes" that he walked to his office from his apartment. Every terrorist in the world could track him and arrange for a kidnapping/ransom scenario.
So perhaps David Goldberg had let his guard down and was the victim of a kidnapping-for-ransom plot that failed. He may have fought back and ended up falling on his head off the treadmill. Or worse, the kidnappers banged him around, panicked, left him bleeding and ran off to their hovels. All that sounds plausable. But will we ever know? Was there a medical exam before the speedy burial? No news is bad news to me!
I find it difficult to believe that the sudden death of David Goldberg was the result of him losing his balance on a treadmill in the afternoon at a fancy upscale resort hotel all alone. Even Warren Buffet or Bill Gates would have some sort of electronic device to summon help.
Well, maybe the body will be exhumed and an examination reveal torture bruises and open up a kind of scenario I described. Let's hope so!
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