80s Era MJ Macros

Today's Michael Jackson memes all feature Michael back in the day, um, my day, The 80's. I made the first one, but the other two I found online.  They did make me L-O-L. For reals. ;)  So naturally I wanted to share them with yous. [And no, there's no particular reason why I'm making random words plural today. That's just how I rolls sometimes.]

And you know, nothing says the 80's like Mr T. Am I right?

MJ was good friends with another 80's star, Emmanuel Lewis.

And it wouldn't be 80's MJ without a sparkly jacket, now would it?

No doubt about it, folks. Michael Jackson ruled the 80's! Gawd I miss those days. You know, when Moonwalking had nothing to do with NASA;  when glittery socks and a fedora meant MJ was getting his Billie Jean on; and when Thriller was the number one selling album of all time. Oh, shamone...wait a  daggone minute...

IT STILL IS! (Take that, Justin Bieber!)

Have a great Monday, everyone!

Holiday Inn Heckler

Something happened over the weekend that I just have to share with you. I've been lazy busy so couldn't blog about it until now, but figured I'd better do it before my tired old brain forgets all about it.

I had planned a surprise overnight stay for the Hubs and me at a Holiday Inn about an hour away; it's called the Holiday Inn French Quarter, not because it's in New Orleans (far from it, it's near Toledo, OH), but because it has a French Quarter theme and decor inside. It's a really nice place and affordable for cheapskates frugal wives like myself. And let's face it: that's as close to the actual French Quarter as I'm ever gonna get.

Anyhoots, our reservation was for Saturday night. The Hubs had an all day class in Toledo anyway, so I figured I'd surprise him and tell him to meet me at the French Quarter for a little Valentines getaway. Of course I needed to get to the hotel early and get unpacked and settled in. I figured the Hubs would be hungry after a full day of plumbing-learning (his class was for his license renewal) and wanted to be ready to take him to dinner when he got in.

I got there at 4:30pm and naturally I couldn't remember what time his class would be over. It was either 5pm or 6pm, so that meant I was either gonna have a very short wait for him or a kind of long one. So to be sure I had a way to keep myself busy, I brought along my laptop. I'll begrudgingly admit, I'm practically joined at the hip to both of my computers since much of my life is spent online or computing in some form or another. [There are worse things I could be doing!] I was looking forward to a break from them actually, but was glad to have the laptop to surf the web a bit instead of having to watch TV.

But no sooner than I sat down to start surfing I started to hear a voice...a man's voice...a loud man's voice...coming from the room next door. Seriously. The dude was L-O-U-D, and that was WTF moment number one for that evening. The guy was talking on the phone about various things, and my first thought was, damn, I hope that guy is not gonna be that loud all night long. It wasn't exactly going to be conducive to the romantic ambiance I was trying to create for the night. And it was annoying!

As his voice grew increasingly louder, I could hear, word-for-freaking-word, what he was going all megavolume-rantic about. He had a brr up his butt about the Super Bowl. More specifically, about Christina Aguilera singing the National Anthem at the Super Bowl...and more specifically still, about how she flubbed the lyrics of the National Anthem at the Super Bowl.  He made several obnoxious statements about this, basically heckling Ms. Aguilera after the fact.

1. He said that Christina Aguilera was a hack.


2. He said that she didn't deserve ANY of her grammy awards because she has no talent.


3. He said that it's the "stupid American public's" fault that she has any grammys in the first place, so basically it's our fault she F'd up the National Anthem Lyrics. And yes folks, he was also an American, the irony of which was in no way lost on me at that moment.

He was going on and on and on about this. Apparently, it was a serious problem for him. Probably not as serious as the ear damage he was inflicting on the person on the receiving end of the phone call, and on those of us unfortunate enough to be stuck in a hotel room right next to him with very thin walls, but still, a problem. I was on Facebook at that time and all I could think was "WTF, Dude?! Shut up already, you loud-mouthed, judgmental, holier-than-though-heckling-A-hole!" And geez, give the girl a break. At least she wasn't lip syncing. Or grabbing her crotch. Or having a wardrobe malfunction. She flubbed some words.  It happens. Ever make a mistake, you big fat jerk?!

So yeah, that was WTF moment number two for the night. As I was griping on Facebook about this idiot, he finally got off the phone. I choose to believe that the person to whom he was speaking finally wised up and told him to find something a little more important to bitch about and then hung up on him. One can only hope. But then all was quiet...for a moment or two anyway. Until...

SLAM!

And then the guy next door yelling, "THAT'S IT, SLAM IT!"

And that was WTF moment number three for the evening.

But no one had slammed a door, not intentionally anyway. There were doors at each end of the hallway on our floor, the Concierge Floor. Those doors were very heavy and they pulled closed automatically when someone walked through them. And of course, they didn't exactly close quietly. Annoying? Yes. But as obnoxious as the guy next door yelling, "SLAM IT?" Um, no.

This actually happened 2 more times...each time that idiot thinking someone was slamming the door to their room, and each time he's over in his room yelling, "SLAM IT!" A to the H to the OLE! And just as I was about to  lose my passive-aggressive cool and go over there and give him a piece of my mind which never would have happened, the Hubs arrived. Thank God.

I went down to meet the Hubs, since I had both of our room "keys." And by the time we got back, as I was talking his ear off the whole time about the jerk wad heckler next door, all was quiet on the hotel room front. Until the Hubs used the bathroom, of course, at which point that hallway door slammed once again and he made sure we were aware of it. I was kind of laughing when the Hubs came out and told him about it. I decided it was better just to laugh it off than to let it ruin our weekend. After all, if it got really bad, we could always ask for another room. And I told the Hubs I had an alternate solution, if push came to shove. I simply suggested that we make love, AS LOUDLY AS POSSIBLE, as a means of protest and justified noise retaliation.

His reply? "Happy Valentines Day to Me!"

Looking at MJ Memes

Since I haven't posted any MJ Memes for a bit, thought it'd be a fun and Oh-so-Tinalicious-way to end this Monday. All 3 memes have a looking at Michael sort of theme.  Now if I was clever enough, all these memes would have a Valentines Day theme. But hey, what can I say?  That's the way the broken Valentine cookie crumbles! Hope you get a giggle or two anyway.

My Friday Confessions February 11

Time for the weekly Friday purge.

[Beware the wanton F-Bomb. Just sayin.]

I confess...I like paper clips. Multi-colored ones. Shiny metallic ones. Funky patterned ones. I think I have a sort of OPCD (Obsessive Paper Clip Disorder). Picking out paper clips at the local O-Max is like a kid-in-the-candy-store-moment for me. [I'm not weird. Really.] I mean, sure, they're great for the office, but they are such mutli-functional little buggers. If you think about it, as long as you have paper clips,  (OK, and duct tape) , you can do almost anything. Seriously.  It's like the only tool you almost ever need. Just ask MacGyver.

I confess...I only shave my legs once a week in the winter. Besides the fact that My Razor is Evil, I just plain hate shaving. And what's the point? My legs are  completely covered 99.9% of every single winter's day. And really, it's not like I'm turning into Mrs. Sasquatch or something. So what's the big deal? The way I look at it, unless I'm grating the Hubs' skin raw when we're in the midst of spousal spooning at night, a little bit of leg hair is far from being the female hygiene crime of the century.

And I just want to add here that as I was looking for some funny or clever little image to put here, using "no shaving" as my Google search query, some of the results I got were quite...disturbing. Let's just say that I finally had a good enough reason to utter the words, "my eyes....my eyes!" Yuck. Ew. And yuck some more. And I know there is some small part of you that is wanting to Google that right this very minute to see what all my fuss is about. I'd advise against it...unless you are really ready for the knowledge that there's  a website dedicated to "furry male scrotums." Ahem.

I confess...that funny photos that include the "F Word" really  make me laugh. I don't use the F Word. Much. But man, when it's part of a photo, for some reason it just cracks me up.  Might be the word iteslf. Maybe it's just a well-placed middle digit. But either way, I have some of my best LMAO moments from this kind of humor. Admit it...it's funny.

(I can hear you laughing.)

I confess...I don't read the newspaper or watch the news. Some people think this makes me a bad American. Some people think this means I'm stupid (but  I'm a  Summa Cum Laude, 4.0 college graduate, baby). And some people think they're better than me because of it. But guess what?

Fergie Channels Her Inner Michael Jackson

OK, so I was reading the Never Growing Old blog the other day and saw a photo of the Black Eyed Peas, when it kind of hit me. Fergie is  seriously channeling her inner Michael Jackson. And it was definitely enough to make me say WTF on this ever so average Wednesday. So I thought I'd share with you the visual proof of Fergie's King of Pop-like persona and see what you think.

Exhibit A: Jamming on Stage with Slash

Fergie

Michael

Exhibit B: Wearing Shiny Costumes on Stage

Fergie

Michael

Exhibit C: Rockin a Fedora on the Street

Fergie

Michael

Exhibit D: The Aviators & The Hair in the Face Look

Fergie

Michael

And last, but certainly not least,
Exhibit E: The Crotch Grab

Fergie

And Michael

And on a side note, I just have to add that, in my opinion and since it's my blog that's really the only opinion that counts the only person who doesn't look incredibly stupid grabbing their crotch is Michael Jackson.

Do you hear me, Biebermeister?

Are you listening, Justin Timberlake?

Got that, Usher?

You too, Lady Gag Me Ga Ga. Eww. Just Eww.

So I think it's clear that Fergie is indeed channeling her inner Michael Jackson. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Lots of stars do it. Even if they won't admit it. But it's all good. You know what they say...imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Some people even make whole careers out of it.

Need I say more?

Things I've Learned from An Idiot Abroad

Up until a few weeks ago, I never really watched The Science Channel. I mean, you know, it's The Science Channel.  Science + Tina has never really been a good combination. It's kind of like The Hubs + Lifetime TV...it just doesn't go together. Kind of a square peg and a round hole situation, if you know what I mean.

But then we started watching An Idiot Abroad, which just happens to be on TSC, and apparently I'm a only slightly changed woman. So yes, my name is Tina, and I watch The Science Channel. I still haven't figured out exactly why An Idiot Abroad is on TSC, but that's OK because I'm learning so much from the show, and laughing so hard in the process, that I don't really care why it's on TSC.

Sure there are the obvious lessons: experiencing different cultures, learning about world wonders,  and discovering global geography through the immediacy of an HD-flat-screen-visual-medium...yadda, yadda, yadda. Ahem. Those are all a given when you watch Karl Pilkington travel all around the world with cameras in tow.

But what about the not-so-obvious lessons? The hidden gems, as it were. The itty bitty nitty gritty, so to speak. What exactly am I talking about, you ask? I'm talking about the British Slang! I freaking love it. Sometimes I get so caught up in the words Karl uses to describe things--many of which I've not heard before, or if I have, I didn't know what they meant. Just Karl's manner of speaking makes almost any of his wise-cracking comments just this side of hysterical. But I've been having fun looking up some of those words online too, so I thought I'd share them here with you. Kind of my way of paying it forward in bloggyworld...because really, who can't benefit from some British Slang education, compliments of Karl Pilkington, a.k.a. An Idiot Abroad, a la The Science Channel?!

So here are a few of my favorite British Slang words that I have learned from An Idiot Abroad so far.

Bollocks: Testicles. Rubbish, nonsense, drivel.

In Karl Speak: "Me bollocks are squashed."

Knob: Penis. An idiot; objectionable person.

In Karl Speak:  "Another fella with his knob an' bollocks on a stick....WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Knackered: Tired, worn out, exhausted.

In Karl Speak: "Oh he's knackered." (Describing an exhausted camel, whom he also described as the 'ship of the desert,' and in this case, the Titanic.)

Goz: Phlegm, mucous, snot.

In Karl Speak: "Is that someone's goz?" (Referring to a glob of something--probably dried salt--that parked itself in his belly button while he was floating in the Dead Sea.")

Nappy: Diaper.

In Karl Speak: "Shitty nappy whizzing through the air, you don’t see that in the brochures."

You gotta love Karl Pilkington. Not only is he taking us along on his journey around the world and providing us with his unique views of the cultural and visual history he beholds, he's also teaching us the important stuff: British Slang. ;) And hey, he's actually getting me to watch The Science Channel. And liking it. Something the Hubs himself has never been able to do.

Some people thing Karl is stupid. And strange. But I think he's very insightful, even if unintentionally so at times. And his quips and comments and delivery are so funny...and who doesn't like to laugh? So basically it's some kind of science thing (still trying to figure out what) with a side of wit and a wee bit of "idiot" wisdom thrown in for good measure.

I'll just end this with a quote from Karl himself, just because it's so very...Karl, from his trip to China.

"I mean, it's weird because whenever you buy something, toilet rolls and stuff like that, it says "Made in China" ... well how come they're not using them then?"

My Deep Purple Dreams

OK, so when I woke up this morning, there was a song in my head. Does that ever happen to you? It happens to me every once in awhile, and the song is usually very...random. I don't think I'll ever understand how my brain works, or why some song I haven't heard--or even thought about--for YEARS would just suddenly be inside my Tinaliciously twisted cranium, but whatevs.

On the one hand, I gotta love that my subconscious self clearly enjoys a good ole blast from my 1970's-bell-bottomed past now and again. A little trip down memory lane, as it were. Otherwise, why would the words to Donny and Marie's Deep Purple, circa 1975, be playing in my head? At 6:23am no less! WTH?!

On the other hand, this isn't a sign of insanity or anything, is it? I mean, Donny and  Marie? Before my feet have even hit the bedroom floor? Before I'm even conscious of what day it is? And before my brain is even capable of rendering a coherent thought?

I hope I'm not starting to lose it. Nothing against my favorite little-bit-country-and-little-bit-rock-n-roll-duo, but if my brain is going to get set on rewind I'd prefer to be in another decade. A little Bad-Era-Michael-Jackson is always welcome up there in the old noggin. [Guess I can scratch off "use the word 'noggin' in a blog post" from my Bucket List now?]

Anyhoots, it was definitely an interesting way to start my day. And who knows what tonight will bring...

Here in my deep purple dreams.