dr Dave: Hello?

Unknown Feminine Voice: Hello. May I speak to Mr. X?

drD: May I ask who’s calling and the purpose of your call?

UFC: I am calling for an invitation… Is Mr. X there?

drD: Who is asking?

UFC: … on behalf of Acme Inc. I would like to invite Mr. X to a one-time offer with…

drD: Mr. X is not here. He is currently serving time.

UFC:

UFC:

drD: FOR HUNTING, STALKING, HACKING TO BITS AND CARVING HIS INITIALS IN THE STILL-BEATING HEART OF THE LAST TELEMARKETER WHO CALLED WHILE HE WAS IN THE SHOWER.

UFC:

drD: Did it with a rusty phone antenna too.

drD: So who did you say you worked for again?

Does effervescent codeine taste like crap or what?

Having to stomach the incredibly bitter aftertaste nearly offsets the pleasure of absorbing pharmaceutical-grade mind-numbing painkillers.

What’s with French meds and bubbles? Can’t they just make them into tiny little pills you swallow, as the rest of the world does?

Must be the Champagne factor…

Am I the one with a sick mind, or would you also do a double take if, opening one of France’s leading newspaper, you glanced upon a headline reading something along the line of “Diddle: Little Girl’s Favorite”?

And just in case you thought it might be yet another unfortunate semantic collision between unrelated words in separate dialects, the article promptly informs you that it is to be pronounced in the English fashion (“dideul”, does it read in French).

And you thought Engrish would end with Japan…

My two resolutions for 2006:

  1. Buy 200-page refill for Little Black Notebook of Hate.
  2. Append to said notebook, names of all those who have started the year wittily announcing: “My resolution for this year is not to take any resolution”.