Talk The Talk Or Walk The Plank

Avast, me salty dogs! In less than a fortnight you, too, can participate in International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

Every year on September 19th crazy people from all over the world spend the day talking, and even dressing, like pirates. And I do mean all over the world. The official website offers pirate expressions in Swedish, German and Chinese. Since I'm about to go on vacation, I didn't want the three of you who read this blog to miss such an important event.

Visit the website and you'll learn how to Captain Hook-up using pirate pick-up lines. My personal favorite is "Yo, Ho! (Ho.)" I guess the second "ho" is implied.

So now I'm wondering what a Jewish pirate, you know, someone like Long John Silverstein, would sound like.

"Arrrrgh! Welcome aboard the Jolly Kvetcher, me heebies. We're expecting a rough crossing, so if your timbers tend to shiver, bring a little sweatah."

The Hissing of Summer Yawns

I know I ranted about that moronic movie "Snakes on a Plane" last month, but the more I read about it, the less I understand the appeal. What's up with all these gross-out movies? I've never had the need to watch a bunch of idiotic teens violate the classic "Don't Go Into the Basement" rule, only to find themselves made into sashimi by a maniac in a hockey mask wielding a set of Ginsu knives.

In "Snakes on a Plane" several characters are offed in grisly detail. Let's see, some are impaled, others lose their heads (literally), and way too many become snack food for the slithery stow-aways. And audiences are, um, eating it up.

Pass the Dramamine.

Personally, I'd rather be forced to watch hours of film strips from my 6th grade science class while stuck on a flight that's endlessly circling O'Hare during a thunderstorm.

Fly the Surly Skies

Okay, this whole new airport security mishegoss is making me very shpilkesy. First of all, I never, ever check luggage. Even when traveling to Europe for two weeks, I pack everything I need in a small roll aboard suitcase and a backpack. Granted, I don't usually take floor-length gownless evening straps or patent leather hip boots when I go abroad (those items are saved for road trips). I figure if I'm running around busy airports or schlepping through Venice on foot with bags in tow searching for my hotel, I don't think a 16-piece set of matching Louis Vuitton luggage, including a steamer trunk, is all that practical.

But now we have to pack gels and liquids in our checked luggage, so my no checking, no hassle travel plans have gone the way of free in-flight meals and extra leg room. And I know it's not all about me, and making my life easier. Trust me, I'd much rather lose my checked luggage on a flight to China and be stranded with just a toothbrush, a clean pair of underwear, and a lame Chinese phrasebook than be blown to bits in midair.

So now I'm thinking, what's next? My fear is that eventually we'll all have to fly barefoot, dressed in nothing but those drafty paper outfits saved for humiliating experiences like a trip to the OB-GYN. And that's gonna suck when I visit family in Buffalo during December.

Shop Till You, Um...Er...

I absolutely abhor shopping. It always reminds me of my mother dragging me to some farkarte department store to shop for school clothes as well as the requisite itchy, uncomfortable outfit to wear to shul during the High Holy Days. I guess I didn't get that recessive gene that allows most women to hear cute shoes calling from afar. About once a year I'll drag myself to the mall if I need something that requires trying on, but if I must shop at all, I prefer doing it online.

Apparently, Danish clothing company, Shaiware understands that it takes a lot more than cute shoes and Euro Trash chic to lure reluctant shoppers like me to their website. They're utilizing the ultimate marketing tool - porn. If you visit the Shaiwear website, you'll find much more than a few bored looking models standing around in trendy outfits. Instead, you can watch them take off each other's clothing, and then perform a well choreographed horizontal hula. (WARNING: Not for the faint of heart or the easily offended.)

Oh yeah, and don't forget to check out the clothes.

Let My People Show

So today we find out from the NBC affiliate in the San Francisco Bay area that there's a guy in El Dorado Hills, CA who saw the image of Jesus on a cooked shrimp tail. Jesus seems to be popping up all over the place.

In the mountains of southern Mexico, locals claim to have seen an image of Jesus on a rock. He's also appeared on a piece of sheet metal at a hardware store, on a fish bone in Oklahoma, on a some guy's plaster wall inside a shower, and two sisters saw his image on wall in the kitchen of their childhood home while they were in the midst of renovations.

So how come we Heebs never see images of Moses on a matzo ball or Abraham on a bagel? And what about Sarah, Leah and Rachael? Shouldn't we see at least one of them on a piece of halvah or in a bowl of stewed prunes?

And I thought we were the Chosen People.

Silent But Deadly

I just bought a Prius. It's the coolest car and has all kinds of George Jetson gadgets that I still don't know how to use. One of the things that fascinates me is the electric motor. Every time I stop the car, and sometimes when I'm moving, it switches from gas to electric mode and goes eerily silent. I can't hear myself driving, and that's really, really weird. It's sort of like I'm running errands under water.

In fact, I'm so stealthy that pedestrians don't hear me either.

So I was thinking that maybe the Prius should come with some sort of warning accessory that's not as rude as a car horn. I don't want to scare the crap out of someone when I'm in stealth mode, but I don't want to flatten them either. I'm considering a few options for my early warning system. There's always the pleasant, bucolic clang of a cow bell, or I could play "Bohemian Rhapsody" on the kazoo, or maybe turn the bass waaaay up on the sound system and blast a little Tupac. Or Carl Kasell.