We Were So Innocent Then

Dean didn't know any better. He was happily chatting on the phone, a blue drink awaiting him. He was young then. He didn't know.

(Long) Quote Of The Day

From TheSuperficial.com:

"Naomi Campbell is being sued again by a third former assistant who claims she was subjected to "verbal, physical and emotional attacks." The assistant was 19 at the time and is seeking unspecified damages for "assault, battery, intentional infliction of emotional distress, reckless infliction of emotional distress and false imprisonment." The suit claims Campbell struck her in the face with her Blackberry, slammed her against a wall, and slapped her repeatedly across the face because a piece of her luggage got left behind during a trip to Brazil. Additionally, Campbell threw a cell phone at her face during a subsequent outburst at the model's New York apartment. Another charge claims Campbell got pissed during an April 2005 photoshoot in Morocco over some forgotten clothing and left her assistant stranded in Morocco without money, tore up her passport and threw it into the swimming pool, and left her to pay the hotel bill. Lastly, at Campbell's Park Avenue home she ripped a sweater her assistant was wearing "off her neck" and accused her of stealing it.

Any diva can throw a phone at their assistant, but it takes a maniacal genius like Naomi Campbell to tear up their passport and leave them stranded in another country. How are people still agreeing to work for her? I hear one time she dangled an assistant above a tank of sharks until they were crying and admitted they stole a pair of jeans, and then she pretended to let them down but instead punched a hole through their face and threw them away in the garbage. True story."

Aaron is a Real Pilot!

So, here is a picture of Aaron. He is a real pilot. If you want, he can fly you someplace.

Maybe an exotic island where the only currency is pleasure.

Or maybe Sacramento.

I am proud to say that I have been Aaron's friend for almost 20 years.

A Great Travel Moment

Years ago I was in Mexico City with David House and Aaron Zweigle. We were strolling through the old colonial part of the city. We decided to go and see the recently uncovered pyramids of Tenochtitlan, the ancient Aztec capital that Cortez had conquered.

As we walked out of the Zocalo, the main plaza of Mexico City, we passed by the Catedral Nacional into a smaller plaza that fronted the Aztec Ruins.

It was then that we heard a famliar melody above the urban noise. We paused a moment, in the plaza between the huge Cathedral and the Aztec Pyramids, and tried to figure out where the music was coming from.

It was an organ grinder, and a little monkey with a cup. The organ grinder was playing "La Vie En Rose", and the little monkey was dancing with his cup.

It was so perfect: the Cathedral, the Pyramid, and Edith Piaf, all bound together in one unforgettable moment.

Happy Bastille Day!

I love France. I love French music. I love the 80's. And so I present my favorite French 80's music video. It's Rita Mitsouko!

Dansez, dansez, vous etes mes chiennes!

Singing Horses

Four horses that sing! Click HERE

Exceptionally Annoying Counter Help

Today I went to Wendy's, and decided to try one of those new Frescata Sandwiches they have been pushing so hard. As I waited in line, I noticed a very large sign behind the girl that was going to wait on me. It was about 5'x5', and prominently placed so that it was impossible to miss. It said "Ask for a Frescata, Dasani and Baked Lays!". That sounded pretty good to me, so when the girl said "May I take your order?" I replied exactly as on the sign "I'd like a Frescata Club, Dasani, and Baked Lays, please." She looked at me and said "A Frescata and what ?''. I repeated again, "Frescata Club, Dasani, and Baked Lays", then I added "Like on the sign". And I pointed.

She didn't even turn around to see what I was talking about, and said "So do you want the combo?" I replied that I wanted the combo if by combo she meant "with a Dasani and a Baked Lays". No response.

She banged awhile on the register and asked "What would you like to drink with that?" At this point I was beginning to think I was going insane. I wanted the combo EXACTLY LIKE THE ONE ON THE SIGN!!! But I kept calm and I said "A Dasani". She just stood there staring with a blank look on her face. "It's bottled water", I added helpfully. She finished up, I paid. And waited.

Of course, I doubt you will be surprised to find out that when they brought me my order, it was a Frescata, Dasani and fries. I said "I didn't order fries." The girl handing out the food froze with the bag in mid-air, looked at me, looked at the food and seemed very puzzled. "Well, what DID you order?"

"A Baked Lays, please." I wanted to add, "Like on the sign..."

But I knew it would do no good.

Welcome to Zombo.com

Everything is possible HERE

Hint: Click on the purple letters

One Of My Paintings

I painted this and I really like it: it is acrylic on cardboard.

Celine Dion - Papa Don't Preach Live

This is just so bizarre that I don't really know what to say. It's like a negative of Madonna: great vocals and horrible dancing.

Joe, I am Very Disappointed In You

I don't really know what this is all about. Joe is holding a blue drink. He knows that it is wrong to drink a blue drink. And yet, he gives us all the "thumbs up". This saddens me. At least it is not on fire.

Rhys, Then and Now

Those of you who know my son might enjoy this little photo collage I made. Especially if you knew him THEN. If you click on the picture it will get bigger. I know I have to explain that for some of you.

Another Bad 80's Video

OK, I just couldn't resist.

Nothing Is Wrong With It Now

After awhile I figured out what was wrong, and I knew just how to fix it!

What's Wrong With This Picture?

This picture was in the paper today. It reminded me of something, and it just looked wrong.

Bad Bad Bad

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Worst 80s Video

A bunch of blogs are having a contest to see who can post the worst 80s video. I want to play too, even if only 10 people know about my blog.

Late On A Sunday Night

So, it is late on a Sunday night. The weather is beautiful here in Louisville. It would be a perfect night, except for the fact that Indiana is across the river. That pretty much ruins the evening. I mean, think about it. How can you be truly happy knowing that Indiana is alwways lurking a bridge away?

No Blue Drinks! No Blue Drinks!

Apparently, Kathleen was not listening. What part of "No Blue Drinks" is hard to understand?

Carissa Does Not Listen

What is the name of this blog? Is it "No Blue Drinks"?. Yes, it is. Does Carissa listen? No, she does not.

I Am Not Caring So Much

Please, Bulgarian teen-agers, do not be bothering me with. I am being much tired. I will not be featuring myself in this blog. Please go back to viewing badly singing acts from Varna, or wherever you are being from.

A Team America Moment

I was exiting the train at Chicago Midway airport on a Friday afternoon. The woman ahead of me had one of those rolling carry on bags. She walked up to the waist high turnstile and tried to go through. Clunk. Uh-oh. The bag was too wide to fit! Now what was she going to do? After a puzzled second, she hit on the obvious solution. She stepped back a few paces, and strode briskly forward with great determination. CLUNK! Well, my goodness. How could this be? The bag was still too wide! But how? Hadn’t she walked forward briskly and with great determination? Hadn’t she always been told that you can accomplish anything as long as you were determined enough? Well, she wasn’t going to be deterred! She had the American can-do spirit. Never give up. Persevere! Where there’s a will there’s a way! Remember the Alamo! If at first you don’t succeed.....Clunk......Clunk....CLUNK!....CLUNK! CLUNK!......CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK!....CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK! Whew! This was a tough one! Even after all of her never-say-die effort, the bag was still too wide.

At this point her brave front crumpled, and I watched as she humiliated herself by knocking the bag sideways and dragging it through the opening, hunched over like a crab and shoving the metal turnstile out of the way with her shoulder. This whole event was made all the more pathetic as it had apparently never occurred to her to LIFT THE BAG OVER!

A sad ( and true) story indeed. Am I the only one who sees political and social parallels here?

A Real Quote

"The show was interrupted when one

of the female dancers fell and

broke her leg on stage. It was

very sad, and disturbing, to hear

her screams persist for 10 minutes

or more from back stage. We felt

bad for her."

- epinion.com, review by a

Carnival Cruise passenger

Death vs Meg Ryan

From the AP:

"Researchers asked 45 women to write about death or a control topic of dental pain and then indicate their preference among a variety of sunscreens with varying levels of sun protection factor (SPF)... Researchers found that when women were consciously thinking about death, they were much more likely to report a preference for sunscreens with a higher SPF...When they were distracted and thoughts were driven away from the concept of death, they were more interested in the lower SPF sunscreens.".

Let me start by saying that this may be the most worthless study ever done. Who cares about the results? What exactly is any organization going to do with this information? Can you imagine the advertising department at some skin-care company being given this task: "Women who are forced to write an essay about Death are more likely to choose a higher SPF. Work up a print campaign around that and get back to me tomorrow."

And how about the poor participants, who probably thought they were going to be involved in some sort of Coke vs Pepsi thing?

"Good morning ladies. In a few moments you will be asked to evaluate a variety of products. But first we would like you each to write a 500 word essay. The topic is Death. Are there any questions? Yes? You in the fuchsia."

"Ummm, I hate to be a bother, but I really don't want to write an essay about Death."

"I completely understand. Those of you who do not wish to write about Death may write about Dental Pain instead. Please begin, you have 30 minutes."

Boy, those gals certainly earned their 50 bucks, or whatever they got paid. Once I did a survey and got a coupon. I hope they got more than a coupon. It would be really horrible to have to go home with that. "What did I do with my day? Well, I wrote a 500 word essay on Dental Pain. Yeah. Dental Pain. But I got this great coupon for a free Starbucks latte."

I do have to wonder, however, if this is some new trend in doing product evaluations. What if you were to use the same process to evaluate hair-care products, or orange juice? Would people be more or less likely to want pulp-free orange juice while thinking about Death? Does writing about Dental Pain tip the scales in favor of mousse?

And the possibilities for rating entertainment are endless. We could have people write about Dental Pain, and then watch a movie. Does having your mind fixated on Dental Pain affect your response to a formulaic romantic comedy starring perky Meg Ryan? Or participants could be asked if they found it more enjoyable to spend 30 minutes writing about death, or 90 minutes watching Meg Ryan. Or how about a variation where people are asked to view a Meg Ryan movie then asked to write an essay on any topic of their choice? How many will spontaneously choose Death as their topic? We could also go back to our Coke vs Pepsi concept, where volunteers undergo a painful dental procedure, then watch a Meg Ryan movie, then choose which they prefer.

As I said, the possibilities are endless.

Greg

Why I Am Scared To Visit Ryan In Dallas

I have a bad history with Dallas. The first time I went there, it was, like, 1982. So Dallas was very popular. The show, not the city. Well, both the show and the city. But the city was popular because of the show. Anyway, that's not important right now. What is important is that I went to Dallas. I flew into DFW from Salt Lake City. I had a big expense account. I was travelling on business.

I stayed at a hotel in the North part of Dallas. I thought Texas was very flat. I remember that all I could find on my rental car radio was Christian Music or Country. Not my favorites.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was later that night. I went back to my hotel, and I tried to go to sleep when I heard a horrible noise. There was a cricket in my room!

Yes, it was what I feared most! A gigantic cricket! And it was chirping and hopping, and hopping and chirping in my room!

I hated that cricket.

Now, some of you might have gotten up out of bed and smashed the cricket. But I couldn't do that. What if the cricket jumped on me? What if while I was trying to smash it, it retaliated by leaping on me, or worse? Too horrible to contemplate.

So I did what any rational human being would do. I went into the bathroom and got a wastebasket, and then I cleverly stalked the cricket until I could capture it underneath the wastebasket.

So now it was like, what?, one a.m., and I had a cricket under a wastebasket in a hotel room in Dallas, Texas. And I went to bed. But I couldn't sleep. Why?

Oh, because, that's why! That cricket kept jumping up and down under that wastebasket all night long! Chirp! Thunk! Chirp! Thunk! Chirp! Thunk! Chirp! Thunk!

In the morning, I wearily and bleary-eyed packed up my belongings and checked out.

To this day I wonder about poor Maria Concepcion, who had to clean my room, and was baffled by the upside down waste basket in the middle of the room.

Oh! Dios Mios!, she said, as she went to retrieve the wastebasket, all upside down in the middle of the room.

She probably screamed and screamed when that cricket jumped out at her.

Next: My Further Unlucky Experiences in Dallas, which culminate in Ryan's parents having to come get us like wayward teenagers.

WELCOME TO ZOMBO.COM

This is the new Greg Garner blog. I have decided to post all of my random stuff here. Rather than send out email updates. Because I am lazy. And it is much easier to update one blog than to send out a mass email.

So sue me.