The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Achewood => Achewood => Topic started by: Choop on May 26, 2004, 02:24:56 am
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Where the hell did Uncle Culpepper come from?
I think I might like this next stretch, as long as it's not too long (trip to hell) or too serious (kidnapped Phillippe).
But, the days of Dennis Quaid memorabilia seem to be finished. Shame.
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It remains to be seen, to my mind.
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This explains why Ray dug on Mark Twains suits so much.
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WHUT, AH SAY, WHUT IN THE BLAZIN' TARNATION*
I like this development a lot. Ray's always been so straight-up solid-gone West Coast**; it'll be fun to see how much of a skeleton in Ye Olden Closette this Uncle turns out to be. Also, check out the palatial fuck*ng panelling there in the entry hall. It's appropriately overblown and ridiculous, but it beats / trumps another "Ray being exposed as an idiot" strip. Those were starting to make me all nervous and shit.
*All my family's from Southeast Texas. I know all the rules of pseudo-swear combinatics.
**Beef's patter, on the other hand, could be from anywhere down here - he hasn't said anything I haven't heard a thousand times, right down to his swear-reluctance melting into the clumsiest and purest obscenity. You dang old low down... fuck sniffers.
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Today, while driving in downtown Louisville, I saw a massive, building-sized poster of Colonel Harlan Sanders, with the words KENTUCKY'S COLONEL written down the side. This just makes me remember that, and smile.
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I rather like this development, actually. It highlights a thread of Ray's character that was neglected just about as soon as it was introduced -- that Ray was a show cat and comes from a good pedigree, implying that he came from a classy background.
I also like the idea of contrasting Ray's relationship with Uncle Culpepper to that of his relationship with Little Nephew. Is Ray making amends to his uncle for being as much of a holy terror as LN is now? Time may tell.
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Any confederacy of additional vegetables! Oh, I love it.
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And Ray appears to be on his best behavior around Uncle Culpepper.
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Colonel Harlan Sanders
It's Harland.
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This will all end in matchsticks and doody. You mark my words.
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This board always seem to come back to the topic of fried chicken. I've been away for a little over a month, and was feeling a little lost, but now I know it's all finger-lickin' good.
I'm back for real this time. After much carrier turmoil I have escaped the world of the call centre!!
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I'm back for real this time. After much carrier turmoil I have escaped the world of the call centre!!
Always good to keep clear of them call centres for sure! Welcome back though. Hope the escape was onto the upwards slope. Worse than call centres is a bad place...
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To stay on a Kentucky Fried chicken theme, which is only slightly off topic: Even my job at KFC when I was 16 was better than the call centre in the end, especially when it came to a point when I was working til 1am. I'm working as a Journalist for a local Aboriginal news paper now, and I'm going to be interviewing all sorts of really amazing people.
Also, re: the alt text here- the pronunciation "eye-talyun" has been a subject of great contention in my family. I remember my mom seeing an Olive Garden as I was driving her around and saying " I haven't had eye-talyun food in so long." I have previously mentioned to her on several occasions that there is no country called "Eye-taly," but this has never effected her. Also, I live in the Little Italy section of my city, and nothing is more embarassing when my mom comes to visit as her loudly referring to people we pass on the street as Eye-talyuns.
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Smells is back! Smells is back! Yay!
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Colonel Harlan Sanders
It's Harland.
Ha, Harlan Sanders will fix you chicken and then BLOW YOUR EFFIN' MIND WITH HIS SHORT STORIES!
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Yeah, I like that one he wrote, I Have No Beak Yet I Must Squawk.
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I especially like that seminal collection: Dead Bird Stories.
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Also, re: the alt text here- the pronunciation "eye-talyun" has been a subject of great contention in my family. I remember my mom seeing an Olive Garden as I was driving her around and saying " I haven't had eye-talyun food in so long." I have previously mentioned to her on several occasions that there is no country called "Eye-taly," but this has never effected her.
I am distinctly reminded of one of the primary hurdles that's come up in our upcoming move to Louisiana: convincing my mother of the correct pronunciation of "bayou." She pronounced it as "bio" for about a week, and only repeated corrections ("it rhymes with tofu") helped at all.
(Yes, we're Yankees.)
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Hi side_show, nice to have you back and congratulations on the eminently rad-sounding new job.
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I've heard people in Texas say "Buy-yo" instead of "Bah-yoo" also. However you say it, it's a mangrove swamp with a high potential for anal rape by toothless inbreds after sunset.
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I'm sorry, is it just me or did Onstad completely steal Uncle Culpepper from Tom Hanks in The Ladykillers?
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Dammit Andy, you beat me to it. He's definitely a cross-species corollary.
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Also, re: the alt text here- the pronunciation "eye-talyun" has been a subject of great contention in my family. I remember my mom seeing an Olive Garden as I was driving her around and saying " I haven't had eye-talyun food in so long." I have previously mentioned to her on several occasions that there is no country called "Eye-taly," but this has never effected her.
I am distinctly reminded of one of the primary hurdles that's come up in our upcoming move to Louisiana: convincing my mother of the correct pronunciation of "bayou." She pronounced it as "bio" for about a week, and only repeated corrections ("it rhymes with tofu") helped at all.
(Yes, we're Yankees.)
I actually had a Yankee-based pronunciation problem at the sculpture garden where I used to work. I had a tourist come in and say "Can you tell me about the sculptor?" So I started in on info about the sculptor, Leo Mol, telling her about his life, etc. While I was talking I could see she was getting more and more annoyed, then she shouted "I don't want to know about Leo Mol, I want to know about the sculptor!" I patiently explained that Leo Mol is the sculptor, and that he made every piece of art in the garden. At this point she threw a post card from a near by shelf at me and said "No, I want to know about this sculptor!" It was a picture of a sculpture called "The Log Drivers," and I realized then that she wanted to know about this sculpture, not the sculptor, but that she had no concept that these were two different words meaning different things. "Oh, you want to know about this sculpture?" I sad. "Yes, I want to know about the sculptor."
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I actually had a Yankee-based pronunciation problem at the sculpture garden where I used to work. I had a tourist come in and say "Can you tell me about the sculptor?" So I started in on info about the sculptor, Leo Mol, telling her about his life, etc. While I was talking I could see she was getting more and more annoyed, then she shouted "I don't want to know about Leo Mol, I want to know about the sculptor!" I patiently explained that Leo Mol is the sculptor, and that he made every piece of art in the garden. At this point she threw a post card from a near by shelf at me and said "No, I want to know about this sculptor!" It was a picture of a sculpture called "The Log Drivers," and I realized then that she wanted to know about this sculpture, not the sculptor, but that she had no concept that these were two different words meaning different things. "Oh, you want to know about this sculpture?" I sad. "Yes, I want to know about the sculptor."
Oh, yea, I loooove difficult customers. BTW, I used to work at a call center myself trouble shooting "problems" for Time Warner Cable customers in New York. They always seemed pissed or incredulous when I told them the call center was in Wyoming. Sometimes they also got pissed when I couldn't turn their cable back on because they hadn't paid their bill in three months or when I couldn't send a technician out within half an hour. Call centers are teh suq.
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Oh, yea, I loooove difficult customers. BTW, I used to work at a call center myself trouble shooting "problems" for Time Warner Cable customers in New York. They always seemed pissed or incredulous when I told them the call center was in Wyoming. Sometimes they also got pissed when I couldn't turn their cable back on because they hadn't paid their bill in three months or when I couldn't send a technician out within half an hour. Call centers are teh suq.
I worked in a call center for MasterCard here in Canada. From this job I have learnt a great deal about the human predilection for blaming mistakes that are your fault and your fault alone on others.
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It used to just drive me nuts when people got their ass kicked by their native tongue. Now I'm normally just amused.
I just heard an advertisement on the radio that, in part, sounded like this:
"Like all Mercedes, I am impressed by the smooth handling . . . "
If someone had said that to me face to face, I would have laughed until a little pee came out. But hearing it on the radio? It's be amused or be depressed - I choose amused.
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It used to just drive me nuts when people got their ass kicked by their native tongue. Now I'm normally just amused.
This makes me happy.
I was working in an STD clinic counseling a middle aged AA woman about her recent positive blood test for syphilis. As part of the usual questions, I asked her why she was in the hospital getting blood tests in the first place.
She told me
"They told me I have Fireballs of the Eucharist"
What?
"Fireballs of the Eucharist".
I went on, internally laughing til a little pee came out but also perplexed by what she was trying to say. Finally it occurred to me and I had to stop her talking to verify:
"Oh, you meant Fibroids of the Uterus!"
At the end of the interview she told me her son was in the hospital now.
For "Roaches of the Liver". That one I got right away.
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Dammit, can't we just pretend that Fireballs of the Eucharist is a really, really great new euphemism for syphilis?