The Yuckraker

Congratulations, Louise Parker. You truly are the Cal Ripken of butchering well-known phrases.

With innumerable misuses of “ironic” still fresh in everyone’s memory, the 54-year-old secretary at General Controls, 34 E. Main St., is riding an incredible hot streak.

Thursday in the GC breakroom, she extended her run of misusing the term “which begs the question” to 67 weeks in a row.

“I remember this week’s edition clearly,” said Cliff Shultz, a co-worker, “We were sitting there, and Lou says, ‘This microwave pizza sure is tasty, which begs the question: What am I going to have for dinner.’

“I had an over-under bet with Hal from sales. I gave him Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I had Thursday and Friday. Pay the man, Hal.”

When asked about her foibles, Parker responded: “It’s a slippery slope to point out people’s errors, especially when they’re not really errors.”

COMMENTARY | Rona Purnell

I can’t go anywhere anymore without seeing “green” this or hearing “green” that. Well, a short while ago, I decided to see what all the fuss was about, and guess what! You really can make a difference for the environment by doing the little things.

In one month, I was able to cut my utility bills from $850 to $160. How?

By doing the simple things. Sure, life may not be as comfortable as you’re used to it being at time, but you’ll soothe yourself just thinking about all that money you’ll save.

The first thing I did was turn the air conditioning up from 59 degrees to 70 degrees. I miss having the comforting feel of a blanket with me as I walked around, but you don’t even notice after a while.

It pained me, but I also quit running a hot shower with the bathroom door closed overnight to take out any lingering wrinkles out of the next day’s work clothes. Little did I know that just a few spritzes of water from an old Febreeze bottle works just as well.

Speaking of water savings, I’ve joined the growing chorus of Americans who now go without their daily rainbow. This past month, I sure have missed turning on the hose for an hour when I get home from work and seeing the full spectrum of colors that results when the setting sun hits the spray at just the right angle. I guess I should’ve taken a picture anyways — it’ll last longer (LOL).

And I’d like to take this opportunity to apologize to my beloved kitty-cats — no more setting the oven to 200 so you can lay on it all cozy all day. And, unfortunately, I’ve had to turn off the TVs downstairs, in my bedroom and in the guest bedroom, too. Guess Mr. Imagination will have to talk you through the day.

The final step I took to save money and energy on my bills is an easy one to take, if you think about it: Stop getting your garages specially wired to go up and down all night because the sound makes you sleep better. One of those noise machines you buy at Sharper Image will be far cheaper in the long run.

So, whether it means you disappoint the birdies by pointing your window AC unit back inside, or you just stop running hot water for an hour down your kitchen sink to clean the garbage disposal, there are hundreds of non-obvious ways to save money … and Mother Earth!

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step!

Or grandkids’ grandkids will thank us for it.

Purnell, 52, lives with her three cats in Washington County.

COMMENTARY | Butch Birmingham

Look at this truck. It’s awesome. Now picture it without the 20-foot antenna I just bought. Not nearly as awesome, is it?

The antenna completes my F150, or as I call it, my F1Awesome. It runs the entire length of the truck, hangs over the end of the bed, nicks the ground and kicks up sparks, but who gives a damn? It’s long and it picks up every station in the county, crystal clear. If it gets sparks on your car, your car’s probably queer.

People ask me, “Couldn’t you get all the stations in clear before?” Course I could. That ain’t the damn point. The point is to get the stations in even more clear and make this truck look even more awesome.

Now that I’ve had this baby installed, the truck has everything: the long, awesome antenna, the Steelers logo sticker, the sticker that says “I’m not speedin’, I’m qualifyin’”, the American flag thermal sticker that covers my awesome truck’s back window, and the totally awesome sticker of a little blond kid pissing all over the number 24.

That little guy is awesome. He should be in the funnies.

Man, do I hate Jeff Gordon!

COMMENTARY | Uterus of the woman who just had her 17th kid

Alright, this was cute the first 16 times, but after holding your 17th kid for nine months, and now not having him in there, I’ve got to tell you: Just fucking stop already.

Do you know how I feel in there? Just picture Tony Conigliaro’s face and you’ll get an idea.

For most normal women, the non-pregnant uterus is about the size of a plum. I’m the size of Tony Gwynn. I mean, that last baby shot out of you like Brian Urlacher bowled him down a Slip ‘n’ Slide.

You know those tubes that are connected to me? Feel free to get them tied. Seriously, how much more joy would another kid provide at this point? When do the diminishing returns kick in?

Shit, get his tube tied, for all I care. Just get something tied, for fuck’s sake.

Has this become some sort of game now? Are you just waiting for Oprah or Ellen to call you up and say you’re getting a new house and a new bus?

Come on. I hurt.

COMMENTARY | Jacob Thompson

All I hear, every damn day, is “Don’t play with the oven. Fire burns the baby.” Why, then, am I sitting here watching people all happy and sing-songy handing me a cake with a lighted candle in the middle of it?

I normally eat food so bland it would make a prisoner give himself the shiv. Now I have this little mound of sweetness in front of me, but I have to extinguish the Olympic torch to eat it? You cruel fucking people.

Enough already with that dopey song. I get it, I’m awesome.

And many mooorrrrre.
Your pants are tooorrrrn.

HAHAHAHAHAHA! Holy shit, is that funny, Uncle Al! You drunk.

Blow out your candle? Blow out your candle? I can barely breath with my mouth closed. I’m a toddler, not Jesus.

Now where the hell are those presents?